I don’t know why this little spot has become so hard for me to write in lately. I sit and stare at this screen, thoughts racing of, “You’ve already said/written that. No one wants to hear it again. Move on. It’s been a year.” I am only able to write one day of the hospital story because the others are still overwhelming to process.

And yet…

One week from today is the day my water broke with the twins. The day my life changed forever, and yet there was still more of that to come.

I saw my therapist this past Friday and as we chatted about how I was doing and our little boy (now 22 weeks!), I struggled with this feeling that seems to underly all my emotions lately.

“I’m so tired of grieving.”

Instantly the guilt poured down on me. I explained (although she knew) that it wasn’t that I was tired of my sons or their story, but I was tired of the rest. The constant struggle to get past these thoughts and memories that still bring a lot of heartache. I wish somehow the grief process could be sped up – and I’ve wished that since I lost them. Like you just wake up one day and can think about what you lost without it smacking you in the face or causing you to have to re-process it all again.

There are days like that. More and more. It’s just soooooo slow and in the meantime there is a part of me that would like for this to be over.

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Today is a therapy day.

I look forward to these. And I know that might sound strange, because apparently there is a stigma to seeing a therapist among some people?

I wouldn’t know. My dad is a counselor/therapist and we grew up talking to each other like we were in therapy sessions – deep, serious, life altering conversations that challenged us to look at what both others and ourselves are doing and why. I mean, not all the time. But more than a “normal” family might – whatever normal is.

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::collapses on blog::

Y’all. I have had a BUSY week. Fun, but busy. Let me tell you – the thought of getting a puppy so Bella had a playmate?

BWAHAHAHAHAHA

::gasps for air::

Lord have mercy, that thought was ridiculous. More like we just got a second kid – not quite but close. Don’t get me wrong, I love that little thing. So much. But Charlie is a lot of work. A LOT. We started puppy training classes with him last week. They are working – he is nearly potty trained. We’re trying to get him to stop biting but Bella has perfectly sized hands and toes for him, plus her height allows him to pull food out of her hands quite easily.

On Tuesday I took Bella to her first play therapy session. It went really well. I’m going to choose to keep that a bit quieter than I do with most things on here. Because it’s about her and while I don’t mind sharing all my problems and deals, I do mind sharing hers.
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Today Sam and I went to our first session with a counselor at our church. I’m a big “let’s work through our feelings by talking” kind of person (isn’t that a shocker) and so in an odd way I was looking forward to it. And to sharing about our sons. I never mind doing that, even if it still hurts.

At first I wasn’t sure what to think of the session. A lot of, “God’s plan, there will be a blessing, trust in the Lord” – all things I know and believe but I sat there still struggling with what was wrong. I mean, if this was counseling I needed to go somewhere else because for me, I was in need of a different kind of session.

So after sitting there for about 45 minutes trying to think of what was really wrong (while we all talked in the meantime), she asked how I was feeling. And I opened up to something I’ve really dreaded talking about on here or in my life. (more…)