Missin' my Valentine

Our 5 year anniversary

To my Valentine:

I, in my naivety, never really understood how painful Valentine's Day could be for so many people. I mean, I used to be one of those 'I hate Valentine's Day because I'm single' people long ago, but always looked forward to the day when I could share it with someone.

I realized today that you're the only person I've ever actually celebrated Valentine's Day with.

I was also one of those people who annoyed the rest of the world with my love for the hallmark holiday once I had a reason to celebrate it. Do you remember our first Valentine's Day? I spent a week prior in my dorm room cutting out hundreds of hearts and writing different reasons why I loved you on half of them. You had saved my life, and I couldn't wait for the opportunity to celebrate and share my love and appreciation for you. And you were so sweet, not really knowing how to be overly romantic, locked yourself in your room for the day and wrote a song for me on your guitar and sang it to me that night. You were so nervous to sing it to me, it was the cutest thing. That's the only time I got to hear it, you never did record it. But it's burned into my heart.

Every year since then, I've found a way to use those hearts on Valentines Day. I kept them in an envelope and every year, I'd add new reasons why I love you on the empty hearts. I remember one year, when we lived in the town house, I got up at like 4:30am, drove to Meijer to buy a bunch of balloons and stuff to make you breakfast and new lingerie (the only time I think I've ever purchased any for myself btw), and made a trail from our bed all the way downstairs to the kitchen with the hearts. Other years, I'd have them just spread out all over our room with candles lit to set the mood. Hey, I knew it was cheesy, but it was cheap. And it was all we needed. The last two years or so, we didn't do much to celebrate because we had no money, so we'd inevitably end up snuggled on the couch together watching Friends while the kids slept. And it was just as romantic because that was my favorite place to be.

And now I have to endure my first Valentine's Day with a completely broken heart. I thought I'd had a broken heart before but I would endure that any day of the week over this pain. And it's not the day that matters. I will likely avoid Facebook and all the mushy stuff everywhere, even though I used to contribute - it's just too hard to face still. It bugs me that people still get to celebrate with their loved ones, just as much as it bugs me when people bicker about their loved ones or don't appreciate what they have. I hate that I had to lose you to make other people realize how good they have it.

This year for Valentine's Day, I know that there would be many more reasons I love you to add to my hearts:

I love the way you love me pregnant.

I love how hard you work for our family.

I love watching your passion in music grow.

I love watching you lead worship - it's the sweetest and sexiest thing ever.

I love how you love our children, they couldn't ask for a better daddy.

I love how you take care of me and the kids. Our rock and protector.

I know they're present tense, I can't face the past tense yet - and I know it's what I would say to you this year. Even though we've had ups and downs in our relationships, I'm so thankful that I can't remember a fight we've ever had that lasted through the end of the day. I'm thankful for the marriage we shared, I don't know that I could ever find that again, or would ever want to. I knew when I found you that God had meant you for me, and I feel so broken and hurt that it got ripped out from under me. 

I'm still in so much pain, baby. Now that I have nothing else to focus on surviving, I find myself lost in misery and having to face a reality I never signed up for. I still don't understand why this is happening. Even if I didn't deserve you, I know our precious children did and they just shouldn't have to learn at such a young age how horrible life can really get. 

I don't want a pity party on Valentine's Day. I don't want to ruin everyone else's day. I just want you back. I just want to lay in your arms, feel you breathe, feel comforted for just a moment, I'm starting to forget the feeling. I miss you, I ache for you every day. 

I. Hate. This.

I am now the "I hate Valentine's Day because it's a reminder of everything I've lost and the love I no longer get to have" girl. I don't want to be this girl, she's so very sad and pitiful.

I miss you more than I could ever convey in words. I wish there were more ways to say it so it's strength wasn't lost in how often I say it, but I miss you. With everything I have, I miss you. With everything I know, I miss you. With everything I am, I miss you.

I love you, Valentine.

Whirlwind

I've been writing this post since Tuesday, it's been hard to muddle through it and write it all out:




The last three days have been quite a whirlwind. I don't know how I've maintained this unexplainable calm (which really on the inside, I don't feel calm, more like numb) other than feeling like Jeremy is watching over me and taking care of me, allowing me to get through all this. 


The morning of the 8th, I shot out of bed early and felt panic start to set in all morning. When I got into Triage and the nurse gave me my gown and asked me to undress, I sat in the bathroom for a minute just shaking with tears. I half jokingly asked the nurse if they could put me to sleep for the surgery and she started to explain why they couldn't do that and I wouldn't want to miss it anyway. Then, I felt bad and felt the need to explain myself, and burst into tears. As did she.


When Mum and Sarah finally met me in the Triage room, I had composed myself a little. Their presence gave me some strength and they helped ease the tension and lighten the air in the room. They were a good distraction for awhile. I just wish they didn't have a reason to be there in the first place.


When I got on that operating table, I did not expect the wave of emotions that overcame me. I wanted to be strong, but instead I started freaking out, and I was literally using every once of energy I had in me to not shake and sob uncontrollably. Tears fell quickly out of panic. I was so scared, and I wanted to scream out so badly. I was trying not to sob so violently that I would shake my body and they wouldn't be able to do anything. All the nurses and doctors were trying to calm me down, rubbing my back and shoulders, assuring me I was going to do great. And all I wanted to do was scream "I need my husband here!"

They laid me down on my back immediately after the spinal anesthetic was given. One of the nurses came around to my head, and grabbed my hand and that's when I started to go numb....my body AND my emotions. She let me hold the teddy bear Jer gave me in one hand and I squeezed him so tight. I could sense Jer calming me and heard his voice in my head telling me it was going to be okay. I don't know how to explain it - it was calming and nervewrecking all at the same time. I still wanted to scream out, but somehow I was able to keep it inside even though my head was spinning. Finally, they called for my mother-in-law to come in and she grabbed my hand, wiped away some tears, and I closed my eyes.

I kept my eyes closed. The next few minutes are really unexplainable to me, because I really just went numb everywhere. I remember almost falling asleep, because I just wanted to wake up and have a baby so I didn't have to deal with it all.

Then something amazing happened. At 9:17am, they pulled Carter out, pulled the curtain down, and laid him on me - right smack against my cheek - goop and all. I never got to even touch our other two children when they were born since I was laying down, so it was a neat experience to get to feel him slimy, warm, and brand new. Jeremy's mom got to cut the cord, and tears came again. 

While I waited for surgery to be done, so many things were swirling around in my head: 


The sounds of Carter's beautiful cry, 
watching the nurses take pictures for us and put his footprints on all my baby books, 
Mum telling me she was sorry and kissing my forehead, 
the doctors calling out stats and medical terms, 
nurses telling me what to expect next,
me internally calling out Jer's name, asking God why he had to miss it.


So much was happening. And yet, it was just an undertow below the numbness I was feeling, not really thinking anything and thinking everything at once. 

------


Fast forward, and I'm still hanging on even better than I expected. I think I'm just trying not to think about it all, cause it's a little overwhelming to face the reality of all this. I have found that I'm not able to really talk to Carter about his Daddy without crying, but I guess I didn't really expect to. And whenever I can't get through it, I just end like a broken record, telling him how much I loved his Daddy and I know he would too.

One thing that does make me very happy to say is that I'm head over heels for my new little man. The resentment I feared might creep in just simply has not. Praise God. I've found that I just don't ever want to put him down once I have a hold of him. Like I'm holding on to the last little traces that Jeremy left behind. It helps that he is the sweetest little thing and thus far has been a dream baby. I think I deserve that. I'm so thankful for the help I have here from my sweet Sarah, who has been doing so much with my older two and allowing me the time I've been craving with Carter. Along with help from many others. I'm just trying to soak up the first glimpses of pure joy I've felt in my heart in 3 months. They come and go so quickly.


Right now, I'm just trying to live today, because tomorrow seems like too much to ask for. And today, for the first time in awhile, is okay.

We survived...Carter is here!

Carter Jackson King is here!

Born Tuesday, February 8th @ 9:17 am

Weighing 8lbs. 15oz.

20.5 inches long

His brother and sister are completely smitten

And I survived.

Thank you all for the overwhelming number of prayers that went up on our behalf. They were answered and Jeremy blessed me with his presence and a calming numbness that took over me today (or is that the drugs?) Either way, I'm thankful.  I've never been so exhausted in my entire life, so I will update soon. 

This is it

This is really gonna happen.

I'm gonna have a baby alone, without the one who helped me make him. Without my rock, without my support. I know other people will be around to support me, and I'm thankful, but it's not the same.

It will never be the same.

I feel like if I can just get through tomorrow, it'll be ok. Everything is painful anyway, and I know watching Carter grow and reach milestones without his Daddy there to witness will be hard, but this hurdle seems like the biggest to survive: bringing a life we created into the world alone. That's not how it's meant to be.

I've not shared this story with many people as to not misconstrue my love and desire for Carter, but it makes a lot of this make sense (not that any of this really makes any sense):

I was done having kids after two. But Jeremy was never quite sure he wanted to be done yet. After we found out my sister-in-law was pregnant with her fourth, and me thinking she was crazy, it really sunk in how selfish I was. On the drive home from Canada one night, I lost it. I felt this heavy weight on my heart knowing that I didn't want any more kids because it would be inconvenient for my life. Jeremy and I spent the entire 4 hour trip talking about it, crying about it, praying about it. We decided we'd see how things went, and leave it in God's hand.

We tried once.

The next morning, I decided that if I wasn't pregnant, I didn't want to keep trying to get pregnant. If I was, great, but I was really content with our sweet little family of 4. But, deep down I knew I was pregnant (we discovered it was my most fertile day of the month). And even just the possibility of it scared me a little, but knowing Jer was by my side made it worth it, and made me excited to have another child with him. We made a pretty great team.

I waited on pins and needles to take a pregnancy test. I took it a few days early, in fact. I picked one up on my way out to see Jeremy one morning at work. Our tradition was always that I'd take the test, he'd read the results. I stopped at the college, peed on a stick in the gymnasium bathroom, and brought it out for him to read...while my heart was pounding out of my chest.

I wish I could describe the look on his face when he read it. I haven't been able to get it out of my head. His eyes wide, his smile crooked and growing wider, he said "We're gonna have a another baby."

I instantly burst into tears.

Jer lovingly reassured me that everything was gonna be ok. But they weren't tears of sadness. I was never sad, just overwhelmed. I cried because of Jeremy's excitement. I cried because of my own excitement. I cried because I was scared but so looking forward to walking this journey again with him. He was pretty good about treating me like a princess, but it was so magnified when I was carrying his child, and I was selfishly looking forward to him doting on me again. He loved me pregnant.

Jer used to tell me I was crazy for saying that labor was my favorite part of pregnancy. But, it was. It's intimidating, and extremely painful, but it was the most incredible experience we'd ever shared together, and nothing has ever brought us closer. Bonding with him in that way is one of my most cherished memories.

Jeremy was a man's man. Rough and tough hunter and fisher, smelly, inappropriate, and very stubborn....but inside he was just a big teddy bear. And that never showed more than when I was bearing his children. He was always so nervous about labor because he worried so much about me (I had some close calls with both deliveries), but I never worried. It's hard to explain, but I waited 9 months to share that day with him.

And now, looking back, it just infuriates me. That one night of uncharacteristic vulnerability where I decided to give up all control to God now almost feels like a slap in the face. I trusted you, and this is what happens? You allow me to conceive knowing I would have to raise this child alone? Why do I have to trade one life for another?


Don't misunderstand, I love Carter unconditionally already. I can't wait to hold him in my arms and I know that my greatest responsibility in life is to care for innocent lives that Jeremy created with me. And I am honored to be the mother of his children. However, in hindsight, knowing I'd have to do this alone, I wouldn't have even considered it. I did it because of Jeremy, even for him. And I can share this because I think it's safe to say that no one would voluntarily choose to raise three kids alone.

And now, thinking about labor has the complete opposite effect on me. I already feel so lonely, and I'm terrified to get through this. I'm angry that I won't be able to see Jeremy's face when Carter arrives. I'm heartbroken that I can't hold his hand and feel his excitement, to watch that look of awe in his eyes when he lays them on his son. I feel resentful that Carter will never get to share that bond with his Daddy, never have even the smallest memory of him. On my own, I am such a bad representation of what we were together. And I feel like my kids are getting cheated out of that, especially Carter. My heart hurts for him already.

My body is so ready to be done with this. And I'm ready to see my little man. I've never been so ready and yet so unprepared for anything in my life.

Please continue to pray that redemption will be found tomorrow, even in the slightest way, for this bittersweet day. That love will be in abundance, and strength will be provided.

And pray, please pray, that Jeremy will meet us there.

I finally did it...

...I finally updated my blog.

For the last almost 3 months (actually, 88 days, if anyone else is counting), I've been staring at the side bars on my blog page reading and re-reading the little snippets of my family. Especially the snippet about Jeremy. I knew I would eventually have to change it, but the thought of it made me ill - I wasn't ready to admit that my love was really gone and that my perfect little family had fallen apart. And changing things made me feel like I was moving on.

Let's be clear, I'm not ready to move on.

But what I did come to realize is that over the last 88 days, I've gained almost 300 new followers. And I know so many people come to this space to find out what happened and offer their support. When I started seeking out other 'widow blogs,' the very first thing I looked for was information about the widow and her family, how her husband died, and their story. So, I thought it only fair that since most people are here because of my story, I'd make it easy for people to find out. Click on the tabs above to read my story and meet my family.

On top of that, people have been supporting me with the help of some friend's blogs, who were donating their ad revenues to my family from the month of January. (to see how much money was raised from Pennies on a Platter, click here - and thank you from the bottom of my heart).

Now, you can continue to support me and my family by visiting MY blog, which is now making a very small profit from ad revenues (every little bit counts, right?) Jeremy always told me I should look into making money from my blog, but I never seriously considered it because it was just a silly little blog about our family - who would read that? But he's making it happen, because they approached me...so I thought it was time to give it a new feel and a new focus: Learning to live without him.

It was hard to finally change everything, but it was needed. And knowing Jer is still front and center in our family and now in the overtones of my blog, it feels good to see his presence here. It goes along with the theme of my life right now and feels a little more relevant.

Thank you for following this journey of mine. Right now the road is very dark and bumpy, but it's good to know I have a place to write it all out, and that I'm not walking it alone.

Snow Day

Two nights ago, I was watching Facebook blow up over the snow storm we were about to get. Everyone was freaking out.

Really? This is Michigan people.

I've never known Michigan to be so whiney about snow before. If anything, people should be rejoicing at the possibility of a snow day. It's a hot commodity around here. I was blaming it on the fact that so many southern states have been whiney about snow lately on Facebook, and were starting to rub off on us. Either way, it was humorous.

Now, I am not snow's biggest fan. And, I've been known to whine myself about the sheer inconvenience and mess that snow creates. But I don't rush to grocery store for the last gallon of milk.

And I love a good play in the snow.

I haven't been able to take the kids out all winter, so yesterday we geared up and headed to the backyard - one giant clean slate of fresh snow calling our names. I also found humor in the fact that even though I've lived in Michigan my entire life, I don't have much for real snow gear. Thankfully, I married a Canadian. I went out in his snow pants, his hat, his gloves, and almost his coat (I opted for my nice coat cause it had a hood).

We had fun. I needed the fresh air. It's tough to realize that no matter how much fun we try to create, it still  feels so prosthetic. There is a giant void we will never be able to fill, or get away from. The kids said multiple times in the snow that they had wished Daddy was there to play with them.

Oh Goodness, me too.

Every smile comes with an instant reaction: "I wish you were here." And then the fight to stop tears. I tried to just enjoy the time with the kids, but there just isn't a moment that goes by where my subconscious isn't thinking about Jeremy. We decided to trail a giant heart in the backyard with Daddy's name on it (so he could see it from Heaven):

We made snow slushies and snow ice cream. We had a pretty low-key day at home. And at the end of the day, when we were saying goodnight, I gave the kids their kisses from me and Daddy and told them how much I wish he could have played with us, because he would have had so much fun. Caleb got very quiet and sad and said "I really want Daddy to play with me, but he died. I want him to play Cars with me. He shouldn't have died."

He's right. He shouldn't have died.

Carter's Belly Shots

I don't mean to depress everyone every time they click to read a new post of mine.

This is my life. Right now, it doesn't feel good. And the good that is happening doesn't seem to matter much to me. But I'm not trying to make everyone feel sorry for me either.

So, to bring a lighter tone today and to keep in tune with pregnancy, since I posted a letter to Carter yesterday, I thought I'd share some belly shots with you that my dear friend Vicki took while we were in Panama City Beach together. Besides, you've only got one week to enjoy them before Carter arrives. Yikes.

I've never had belly shots done before, and I always regretted it. I'm not a 'bare all' belly person myself, but they're sweet memories and I honestly don't have any real pregnancy photos from either of my first two kids. I was determine to keep a better account of this pregnancy, and I was looking forward to taking some photos with Jeremy, since I have only one of him with my pregnant belly.

I can't describe how it pains me that he couldn't be present for these photos. But we made him a part of it, and I will cherish these photos forever. They turned out beautifully. Here are some of my favorites:

You can check out the rest of them on Facebook. Hope you enjoyed. Thanks, Vicki.