Halloween memories

So I'm shamelessly entering to win a Canon Rebel camera from SITS. For those of you that haven't heard of SITS, it's a blogging community and great way to find other blogs.  Just to get that out of the way. :) This post is an entry. To win, I have to write about my best Halloween memory.

Cora is all that's on my mind these days, as you might imagine, so it's hard to reach back to past memories. I had one Halloween with Cora. I was pregnant with her last year. And, really pregnant! Entering my final month. I remembered dreaming of this year and the pumpkin patch.  

But, a particular memory stands out. For some reason, we decided to go somewhere in the middle of Trick or Treat. Ben said to sit the bowl of candy out on the porch. We gave away whole Hershey's bars that year because we knew we wouldn't have that many trick or treaters, and we'd bought a whole box from Sam's Club for my baby shower.

I was so shocked to come back and see some were gone, but not all of them. Ah. Life in a small town. Looks pretty nice especially compared to living here, where UPS packages are stolen off your front porch moments after their delivered. 

The Healer

This is one of those stories that if someone was telling me, I’d raise eyebrows in suspicion, or lower my head and listen carefully, but thinking that they were mistaken, or being dramatic.

But, have to share this moment. Have to write about it.

For weeks, and well, really, most of the past few years, I’ve lamented over what to do now. What next?

I majored in journalism, worked in newspaper, which I liked, but had a bad experience with a witch of an editor, and after that worked from home as a freelancer/contractor.

Just a few weeks after I found out I was pregnant, I found myself on unemployment, laid off.

I knew that I’d be a mommy. I might freelance or work a bit, but mainly, I was looking forward to being at home and a mommy.

Cora died.

I was a stay-at-home-mom without a living child.

It’s been odd. Newspaper is a dying field. So, going back to that isn’t a huge option. And, I love the stay at home flexibility. I think I’d be great working, doing something on my own as my own boss.

But, it bothers me a lot. I feel like I’ve failed at making a living for myself because well, I have.

We’re building to something, I promise.

I was driving the other day, don’t even remember for sure where I was going, but distinctly remember the spot on the road that it came to me. Almost as someone else. A word popped up in my mind and was so clear. So different. It just came to me, like from somewhere else.

“Healer.”

What does that mean?

I had no clue. I instantly connected it to what I was thinking about on the fringes, what I’m meant to do. All my life, I’ve searched not just for a career or a job but a role.

That’s what this was. My role.

Who?

Why?

When?

Where?

How?

I don’t know yet. But, somehow, it came to me, my role.

I don’t know what a healer does. This isn't Harry Potter or some novel. We don't have "healers" in or society, or do we?  I’ve never been one to think I could go into medicine, so I don’t know about that type of healing. I really honestly, don’t know. What other types of healers are there? Are there other types of healers?

But, thought I’d share the moment.

Something I struggle capturing on paper.

Something that’s never happened to me before.

My scientific mind wants to find an explanation, or explains it away by saying this was just my brains way of answering.

I can’t make you believe because you aren’t me and weren’t inside of my head in that moment.

A healer.

Huh.

(Keeping comments open, but I can see where they might go, please respect that I've got a different set of religious beliefs than many of you)

Are you afraid of me? How to approach a grieving mom.

I get a lot of notes from people wondering if they should do or say x or y for their grieving friend. They tell me they're so afraid of hurting their friend's feelings. That they just don't know what is right.

Especially in communities like the congenital heart defect community where sadly so many of us lost a child, others feel so scared to say something.

And for good reason, they see my rants about so and so saying such and such. Or they read other rants, which are different than mine. Or they read that something they thought could never offend someone offended a mother.

I've never in my life been so sensitive to words. Not nearly this sensitive.

I can understand the fear in approaching someone that lost a child, the fear of saying the wrong thing.

I think it's important to remember this, there is no right thing to say, so stop searching for it.

You will never find the words to take away the pain. I'm comforted and honored that you reached out, but there is no right or wrong thing to say. Because, nothing is right. Nothing someone can say to me can make this better. So, remember that and don't try to say those magical words to make it all better.

It's also hard because we're all different. Everyone that lost a child feels differently. And how I feel changes.

I know it's not easy to deal with grieving mothers. I can understand why you might just think it's better to avoid them altogether, but I will tell you this, if you approach me with love and compassion and an open heart? I'm never really offended.

Going through this, I can tell the compassionate people. The people that truly care in an instant. And, I can tell people that are more self centered as well. The second bunch usually isn't that big of a deal for me, but it's from those people the real hurt is caused.

So, if you're afraid of approaching a grieving mom?

Just approach her with an open heart and caring soul and lots of love.

And, please do reach out to her even if you fear hurting her. As long as you're thinking about her compassionately, you'll help so much.

Don't be afraid. I'm stronger than I was before this, you can't break me.

We don't have to live in fear of each other.

Rock Bottom

I feel like I've hit rock bottom of the hole I fell in sometime earlier this month. I wrote about it, feeling like I was a tunnel. Today has been the worst. Everything is such an effort. Honestly, don't even know how I'm even writing this blog post, except it's all I can do.

Poor Ben, I just took two hours to give him an answer about what to eat. I can't leave the house, it's too much.

I feel so behind in all my responsibilities, but oh so tired. My muscles ache.

I'm okay though. Stable. I know all of you worry.

Something tells me today is the worst of it. The darkest. I can't even think straight. The fog is heavy.

I'm giving in to today. I'm not pushing myself.

Tomorrow, I have plans. Waking up at a decent time, getting out of the house. But, I'm giving myself today. Sometimes you just have to.

I know it's depression. Rather it's postpartum from birthing a child, or depression because of her death, or a mixture of all.

I feel almost lucky that I've had depressive episodes before. It's a bit less scary at least knowing what I'm going through. I feel really, really, really lucky to feel hope despite of all this. I know beautiful things will come. I held and cuddled and kissed true beauty. It gets me through this.

Monday, I'll make phone calls and drag myself to doctor's offices. Today, I give in.

08.02.09 The day I married my best friend

Tomorrow is my anniversary, so you're getting bombarded in sappy-ness today since I rarely schedule posts and don't plan on being online tomorrow.

Once I remember talking to another newlywed friend, telling her how great it was to marry your best friend. I expected her to nod in agreement, instead she looked at me oddly and then said "that's great."

It's then I realized not everyone marries their best friend.

I did.

On 08.02.09.

A year ago tomorrow.

In our first year of marriage...

Ben put up with my crazy couponing nesting and comforted me after I started crying at cashiers that wouldn't take my coupons.

He went along with the idea when I insisted we buy 25 cans of green beans because they were on mega sale when nesting. We still have some of them nine months later.

Ben tied my shoes in the last few months of my pregnancy.

He hid my flip flops from me because he didn't want me to trip while pregnant. Sweet now, but I was not happy.

He bought me a record player for a birthday surprise just a few weeks before Cora was born because I'd talked about one since he knew me and said repeatedly how I wanted music in her life.

Ben picked me up off the floor once when I was very pregnant and very upset and after falling to the floor in a hissy fit found I couldn't get back up.

He listened to me read Cora books when I was pregnant with her.

Ben gave out pink bubble gum cigars to everyone he saw after Cora was born.

He stayed up with her while I slept so little Cora in her five days wasn't ever alone.

Ben drove to the hospital to try to save her with his head out the window because the windshield was frosted over.

He was the reason I came back after giving up and collapsing on the hospital floor. I saw his face.

I checked on him constantly the days after Cora was gone and made him eat and made sure he was safe.

We delivered her eulogy together.

I made a video of her pictures he sometimes watched late at night.

He took me away after we got her autopsy report.

I listened to him and made sure he knew it was okay to cry.

He went everywhere I wanted to go and stopped so I could take pretty pictures during the trip.

I fought for him when he got stuck in an awful hospital after falling from a treehouse and shattering his ankle.

I pulled him out of the hospital MIA when they didn't give him proper treatment and drove from Atlanta to Indiana straight through.

He still did the dishes for me a few times when he was in a wheelchair.

Ben supported all my ideas and gave me space and time to build Cora's non-profit.

...

Everyone says going through a tragedy, such as losing a child, either rips a couple apart or brings them closer together.

Ben and I are closer than ever.

Yes, Cora was at my wedding. That's my baby bump. If you're curious about why I'm not in white, go over to Cora's Story to read about our wedding day.

Help me stay focused, oh, and win!!! Another giveaway....

I touched upon this a bit on Cora's blog, but am coming here for a real discussion and advice. You all helped so much with my office organization. Well, you helped at least. The office still has packed boxes, but it's getting better! Promise.

I'm crazy busy, have barely left the house in a week trying to get ready for New York in a week, and Wear Pink for Cora tomorrow. And, trying to log in some hours at a new part-time job.

On Monday, I tweeted about how the entire day seemed a waste, I was distracted by this and that and worked most of the entire day on things I didn't plan.

I thought for sure the rest of the week would get better, I'd be able to dig in and get some work done, but each day brought a new distraction that drained not only my time but my energy.

My friend Karyn gave me some awesome advice about just focusing on what I needed to. I really do feel like I'm going to just be able to buckle down and get some work down.

But, wanted to come to you again to hear how you focus on what's important. Of course, I'm going to bribe you.

Leave a comment of support or advice, and get an "I Wear Pink for Cora" bracelet. And, yes, Bobbie-Jo I know I still owe you your prize. I promise it's coming. I've been unfocused here!!

Update: I'm so scatterbrained, I forgot to put in a closing date. The contest closes Sunday.

We have a winner...

Contest is closed!!!

My story.

Hi. I'm Kristine. Cora's mom.

Nope. I'm absolutely not giving up on her blog. It's started a whole movement. She's amazing. She's changed and helped and saved and loved and done so much despite only living five days.

Cora's story and my story weave together, yes, it's true. But, sometimes I have things to share about just me. About trying to live without her. About rediscovering old hobbies and interests.

I talk openly on Cora's blog. It's true. But, I also try to remember Cora has a lot of younger friends. Sometimes I need to be free to drop a few swear words, talk about grown-up stuff.

I've come to know and like so many of Cora's friends. My friends. Her readers. My readers. I wanted to share my story, too.

Show you the beautiful, wonderful ways Cora changed me forever. And, share with you the low moments in the middle of the night when I weep for her.

P.S. So my new blog was designed by CupcakeMag. Gorgeous, no?