good things do happen to good people.. sometimes

After losing Savanna, I have learned a tremendous amount of life lessons.

I've learned that I can do hard things.
I have learned to let things go.
i have learned that with hard work and faith you can do anything you set your mind to.
i have learned that it is not time that heals all wounds, it is what you do in that time to heal.
i have learned when to ask for help.
asking for help is not a sign of weakness, not asking for help when it is needed is.
i have learned to be slower to judge and eager to listen.
listen to all the words and the unspoken words.
i have learned to love with everything and more.
i have learned to take a picture and capture a snapshot of a memory.
i have learned a hidden love of writing i never knew existed.
i have found that communication is a key to any successful marriage.
i have learned to let myself cry.
i have learned it is ok to cry.
it is ok to be angry.
it is ok to feel guilty

i have learned that grief evolves. never goes away. but is always changing.

mostly i have learned, that good things can happen to good people.

i still sometimes feel as if i am being punished, that i must have done something terrible and awful to have lived through the death of my daughter. but i have realized that in that there was something positive to be pulled from that daunting tragedy. maybe that statement seems weird to you. but in her death, everything that surrounds it is completely and utterly negative. it is dark and dreary. to not find anything of positivity of light in it is to say her life meant nothing. at least that's what i have come to believe. i was always a glass half full kinda girl until the day Savanna took her last breath.

my whole outlook on life completely changed and turned around. i became overwhelmingly negative. hateful at times. and then one day.. it all clicked. and that's when i began to learn from it. it being her death. i began to try to find my inner strength. and at that point i started to feel like i could breathe again.

i'm not really sure where i'm going with this post. that seems to be my common denominator as of late. my posts i guess reflect my life right now as it stands. a little crazy and a little all over the place.

i guess i just wanted to document that while everyday is always a struggle, i have made progress. my ground no longer quakes, but i am found crossing over the occasional quiver.

i no longer stare at the dates waiting for the 12th or the 28th to approach. most months they pass without a thought. funny though as i type this and peer over at my phone.. today is the 12th.

1 year and 8 months since she's been gone
20 months
80 weeks
560 days

it's still hard to believe

i still continue to have days of surrealness. i have days of sadness and weakness. days of dark and shadows. but i seem to have more days of happiness. more days of smiles. more days of lightness.

yes, i am different person. perhaps our relationship has suffered the consequence of this change. perhaps our relationship has bloomed because of this transformation. but grief does that to you. it completely and utterly molds you into an entirely different being. it takes what was once there and rips it apart leaving a illion broken pieces. eventually you start to get glued back together, but pieces are missing and shards are misplaced. i am different now.

 so with all of this. all of the realizations i have had within myself i have also realized it is ok to continue living. it doesn't mean i've forgotten and it certainly doesn't mean i've moved on. it just means that i have chosen to live a life again. the life of a mommy with an angel in her heart. with memories to recall upon and pictures to remember her by.

with that being said, i am overjoyed and ecstatic to announce that i have been accepted into the RN program at my school. it has been a 6 years in the making. another milestone that i never thought i would reach. and while i know have a strenuous and tough 2 years ahead of me, i am realizing more about myself each day. my confidence has slowly begun to sprout.

i have to believe that at least some of my strength, my confidence, my need to succeed (sorry for the cliche) dwells from the death of Savanna.. from SURVIVING the death of Savanna. In the beginning I didn't think I would ever get past that first awful night without her heart beating in this world. And yet here I am sitting here, writing, telling the world of an accomplishment. I only wish in 2 years when I walk that stage and receive my diploma I would be grazing my eyes across the audience to see my 4 year old girl bouncing on her daddy's lap.

i feel accomplished
i feel sad
life is going in a great direction
i just wish i could say it was complete.

Honesty Out Loud

I finally said it out loud today.

I finally told J something I had been pondering.

Something I had only really spoken about with Dr. D

At this stage in my grief.

I don't really care to visit Savanna's spot.

seems apalling doesn't it? seems awful. seems hateful almost. seems angry. maybe you're mouth is hanging open wondering how i could feel or think such an awful thing. or maybe..

just maybe..

you kinda get it. you kinda see it. you can understand it.

let me explain.

in the beginning, i wanted to go everyday, heck i NEEDED to go everyday. it's where i felt closest to her. her body is there, her final resting place.

without realizing it though, i always had an underlying unrealistic expectation. i think i've mentioned it before in past posts.

as i drove up the hill and around the bend, i wanted to see her sitting there, i wanted to see her crawling through the grass. sitting atop the stone legs swinging hair blowing in the breeze.

each time we would clean the stone, remove the clunky clay rocks, wipe the dirt from the angels, replace the old flowers with the new. each time, we would parent the only way we knew how. we took care of our girl the only earthly way we were allowed. we tended her spot, we brought her decor for the seasons.


but then something changed.

something happened within me.

it was christmas.

i was angry.

i was realizing i would never see what i wanted to see.

each time j would ask if i was ready to go, i would stall.. hoping, wishing, waiting, willing myself to see her physical body there. never will that happen. and i hated it.

in those moments, the moments of what is supposed to be the holidays of cheer and joy. i was angry hell i was PISSED! this was not OK, and what was the point of standing there?

nothing would come of it.

i didn't feel peace anymore, i didn't feel calmed. most of the time i didn't much feel her presence there anymore.

we didn't go back until March, her 2nd birthday. we brought her a beautiful and bright arrangement of flowers.

again, we cleaned and scrubbed, polished and tidied up her spot. only this time, there was a numbing empty that i felt.

in the past i felt some kind of fulfillment from carrying out these activities. i was honoring her, mothering her the only way i knew how to.

it wouldn't be until just this past june that i had an opportunity to visit her again. when the conversation first started my immediate thought was... i don't really want to.. i really don't care to.

followed by extreme guilt and sadness. how is it that i can think such a thing? how is it that i can NOT want to visit the spot where my daughter lies.

i talked to dr.d about this finally.. through my shame and through  my guilt i told her how i didn't care if she had fresh flowers. it was irrelevant if she had working whirly-gigs or pretty decoration.. at the end of the day, i would never get from that spot what i truly and really want.

so why do it. why put myself in a position to continuously wish for the impossible?

that was the first time i said it out loud... the second time was today. to J. we're going out of town this weekend and will be merely a 45 minute drive from her rather then a 3 hour. we talked about going, i told him i didn't care to. i was so scared so afraid that he would think less of me.

he understood.

maybe you do, maybe you don't. but at that moment of realization last month, i could understand why the little girl buried diagonal from Savanna who died 10 years ago, never has fresh flowers on her grave. only once have we seen new ones.. on the date of her birth 10 years ago.

so many times had i cursed those parents and looked down upon them. so many times i was hateful to these strangers.. but here i am now.. understanding and more compassionate.

i'll never see her in this life, the way that i want to. i have realized i don't have to go to a grave to feel close to my girl. forever since her funeral i have called it her spot because calling it her grave or the cemetery made it too real. made it too gruesome and traumatic. but that is the fact. and that is what it is. it is where we laid her body to rest.. but her memory of her life, her smiles, her spirit.. they're buried in my heart a part of MY soul and spirit forever, they're locked in the layers of my mind.

and that's something i can visit any day of the week.

so maybe now you understand. and maybe still you don't. but i have always promised to be real and true.. and as afraid as i am to hit the publish button.. this part of grief can be so incredibly ostrasizing. please know if you have these feelings you're not alone. you're not a monster.


Sweet Savanna,
I love you sweet girl.
Love, Momma