Emotional Intelligence.

It’s a real thing beautiful people. And sadly, so many people lack the basic skills and understanding of what it is. Case in point, someone I’ve known since I was 17 just recently found out my son passed away. When he was trying to give me what I guess you might call words of encouragement, he attempted to make a connection that would me feel like he understood what I’ve been through. And what I’m continuing to go through every day since losing Kam. He failed, obviously.

He’s a father of two, but only gets to see one. That’s the comparison he chose.

Melissa 6 months ago would’ve went bat shit crazy. Don’t you ever compare the fact that the child you had as a very young adult is not easily accessible due to the person you chose to have him with. At the end of the day, he is still living, breathing, etc. My son isn’t. End of story.

The Melissa today, politely told him that there is no comparison. Though I know it must be awful to have your child kept away from you for no good reason, at the end of the day, you have the options to go through the court systems and whatever else to gain access back to him. I do not have that same luxury. So I explained this.

I will never get to hug my son again. Or watch him grow up. I’ll never see him hit a baseball, or fall in love, or graduate from med school and become an amazing man. Ever. I do not have that luxury. So although you may not see your child right now, physically it is not impossible for you to accomplish that. Or for him to do any of the above things that my son will never get the chance at.

I definitely am not holding it against him. He’s a good guy, and I know it goes back to the fact that people just don’t understand and they want to say something. Say anything. So I appreciate the need for people to feel that, and show me they care. And even though it may not always be the right thing said, but let’s be honest, there is not a right thing to say, it is promising that people are willing to talk about it.

I’m a huge supporter of the #breakthesilence movement regarding infertility, miscarriage, and infant loss. It literally happens to 1 in 4 pregnancies. That’s 1 in 4 people. So why are we so focused on the fact that Kylie Jenner received a $260K car for her 18th birthday from her rapper boyfriend, and not this? I certainly don’t know 3 other people that even have the slightest chance of that happening for them. Guess how many people that I do know that cannot conceive, even though they’ve been trying for years? Or the ones that try and try, and then lose their baby either during the pregnancy or shortly there after? You guessed it. About 100. Or more.

Let’s talk about it. We need to talk about it.

I’m here when you’re ready.

I remember when the Timehop application first came out for Facebook, Twitter, Intagram, etc. I was super excited initially, because let’s be honest, how could it not be fun to see what you were doing 1, 2, 5 years ago. I actually do still laugh at my posts from 6 six years ago when I was a young, wild college student without a legitimate responsibility. Those were some good days. With even better social media updates. I had way too much boy drama, and disposable cash. Both reflected in the amount of posts regarding wine and shopping trips with my lovely girlfriends.

Oh, how those times have changed.

I knew coming into this year that Timehop would be an emotional landmine, and it is. Or it can be. I don’t want to say everyday, because my posting has significantly slowed down over the past two years. Even when I was pregnant with Kam I didn’t make any announcements about it until after I already knew his gender. So some days I am still just getting to enjoy those ridiculous posts from 2009.

Which brings me to today.

And let me just preface this with saying, I’ve been anticipating this for about a week now, because I knew I was coming up on the time when I really began to post about him socially.

One year ago today, I had the ultrasound that confirmed that Kam was a Kam, and not an Alaia or a Vivianne. Although those girl names were never 100% confirmed. I just loved them both at the time. I actually think Kam’s dad might have shot down both of those at some point, but you don’t even want to know how many names got shot down before we landed on Kamren.

I didn’t make the announcement about Kam until the next day I believe, but I did post a selfie that I still remember every detail about taking. Even the caption read, ‘sometimes life gives you the most amazing blessings, and you don’t even need a filter to capture it. :)’ 

Honestly, I probably won’t even open my Timehop tomorrow, only because I don’t know that I’m emotionally ready to see any of those initial posts right now. Maybe when they roll around next year I will. We’ll see how I feel tomorrow.

But, I also write this today because today is a day of so many strange coincidences that I’ve been seeing all over social media. Then again, I know there are no such things as coincidences. Only signs.

There’s another mother in one of my support groups that lost her gorgeous little girl Bella one day before my Kam. Bella was mixed like Kam, had the sweetest face possible & a head full of jet black hair like my boy, so I’ve always felt connected to her. And today, Bella should be turning one. But she isn’t. The same day that I found out the little human I was growing was a boy, which was everything I was praying for, is the same day that sweet Bella was born.

Today is also the day that a childhood friend of mine announced that the baby the she is carrying is also little boy. She found out yesterday I believe, but finally made the announcement today. A year ago, I was her. I pray that next year she is not me.

I also found out today that another mama that was pregnant the same time as me, initially with triplets due to IVF, and who ended up losing two during the pregnancy and also her little girl shortly after birth, is undergoing IVF again thanks to the generosity of her doctors taking it upon themselves to pay for it this time around. This is amazing to me since I know how expensive that is, so the fact that her medical group is doing that  for her and her husband gives me hope. I love when good people show themselves to the world, for completely selfless reasons. I hope to be in her situation next year. Not the IVF, but maybe prepping for another child at some point. Or even just being in a solid relationship with someone who i can eventually build to that point with. Hopefully there will be good news from her family soon.

What a crazy difference a year makes. Some blessings and other tragedies. Either way it goes, there’s no escaping the 365 days, or 525,600 minutes that occur from one to the next. I’m just hoping the majority of my next 525,600 bring more smiles than the previous months have seen. Timehop or not.

Things I’ve learned in the past week

1) Summer colds are the absolute worst. Seriously, horrible.

2) I’m not a big fan of medicine that’s not absolutely necessary, therefore I don’t typically take any and just let my body ride it out. I’m rarely ever sick and when I do get sick it seems to go away pretty quickly. This time I caved, probably due to jet lag and just general sadness, took nighttime cold medicine, and am now the proud owner of another Kate Spade handbag. I will not be taking anymore tonight, because there’s no telling what order confirmation I’ll see when I check my email tomorrow morning.

3) Coming home from vacation is a lot harder than leaving for one, and the weight of my son’s absence seemed absolutely unbearable once I was back home.

4) I really only miss my son’s father on the days when the internal ache for my Kam won’t subside. Obviously the correlation between the two is not a coincidence, but it does help me realize that I no longer miss him as a person. This is a good sign I think, since he’s not the person I fell in love with two and a half years ago.

5) The Shark Steam & Mop has significantly changed my life. Especially with Florida summers, constant rain, and a dog who insists on finding every single puddle of water possible.

6) There are absolutely no ‘at leasts‘ in child loss. This was hard for me to understand for a while. I’d see people who had their rainbow babies, or older siblings, and think, well at least you have your other children. It doesn’t matter. There’s not a difference, nor do the other kids make it easier. They’ve still lost their child. And it sucks.

7) I should apologize to Kam’s dad for thinking he had it easier since he still had Kam’s older brother. I’ll do that later I’m sure.

8) I feel a thousand times better after being back in the gym. Two weeks out is entirely too long and my body definitely felt the effects.

9) The little things, the little moments that you experience with someone – they aren’t little. Remember that.

10) Antidepressants are absolutely necessary and probably something I’ll need for the rest of my life. That doesn’t make me feel bad, or feel like a failure. They help. I need them. I’m not ashamed of that.

Seven months.

Seven months ago I met the love of my life for the very first time. Physically that is. We had a long standing relationship for 38 weeks and two days prior to that. Ironically, I’ve been living this day for longer than the standard 24 hours too, since I started it 14 hours earlier in Australia.

On my first flight here I watched, perched comfortably in my first class seat as everyone shuffled to the back of the plane. Two babies. Around the age my Kam would have been, being worn by their exhausted mothers, who ironically looked at me like I was the lucky one. Little do they know, I would have given up my seat to them in a second. I would’ve given anything if it meant that I could be wearing my Kam and settling in for 15 hours in an all too small coach seat.

Even now, while I’m waiting in the United Red Carpet Lounge for my final flight home to Tampa, catching up on all the celebrity gossip via TMZ Live, I wish I was sitting in the family room on the other side of this TV lounge. I wish I still had a reason too. I hope that sometime in the next few years I will again.

Hope. That’s what I have now. In place of my 7 month old, and in addition to my anti-deppressants. Hope is good though. It keeps me pushing towards the next day.

Hope is also what I’m relying on right now.

Hope that they’ll stop delaying my final flight so I can get home to my bed and my Lola.

So is life.

Especially mine.

I managed to find myself waking up over Australia this morning. Literally, 36,000 feet in the air, and waking up to a seriously magnificent sunrise. The colors seemed brighter that high up. The orange a little deeper, and the pink more of a bright burgundy. I wish I would’ve gotten a picture of it, but I found myself so lost in the moment mentally soaking it in. That’s the thing about experiences like  that. It seems infinitely better to really experience them, instead of simply trying to document the moment.

I will say that if you are ever going to take an extremely long, in my case 15 hour flight, I highly suggest investing in a first class experience. It really makes all the difference. I literally got a good 9+ hours of sleep, plus more food than I could actually keep up with. I also flew overnight, so by the time I landed at 7am Australian time, I was ready for the day. What is this whole jet lag thing that people speak of? It is now almost 5pm, and I’m just starting to get tired. Mind you, thats after a couple of hours of wandering around the city, soaking in the raw beauty of this place. And it is seriously beautiful.

I’m also a huge fan of the fact that there is literally an espresso bar every 50 feet around here. And the one that I stopped in put Starbucks to shame. Although there was a Starbucks two blocks up. These people are serious about their caffeine fix. I respect that.

I’ve yet to see any kangaroos, I know, disappointing. But, I’ve also only been in the city center area around the Marriott where I’m staying. I do plan on going to a Koala sanctuary in the next day or so. Apparently I can hold one, and in my case, snuggle one. I’m so incredibly excited about that. Who doesn’t want to snuggle a koala bear?

I also found it to be quite ironic that the license plates for Brisbane have it listed as the ‘sunshine state.’ Seeing as I live in Florida, it just seemed comical to me. I left the sunshine state, only to come to another one a million miles away. It is sunny here though. Not more than Tampa, but still. It’s also winter here! I’m legitimately wearing my Ugg boots as I type this. How’s that for ironic? Wearing my Ugg boots while wandering around Australia? I wonder if all of the natives absolutely know I’m a tourist? I’m quite certain that they do. I mean, really, do Australians even wear Ugg boots? I sometimes think it’s a pretentious American thing. Either way, I love all of my Uggs. For both comfort and style reasons.

I’ve also fallen in love with everyone I’ve spoken to, both male and female. These damn accents are just everything! Everyone sounds so incredibly pleasant. I seriously cannot take it. I can’t even imagine any of them sounding angry. I’m not sure it’s possible with an accent like that. Even the boring safety information given on my flight from Melbourne to Brisbane sounded incredible! I for sure wish my voice sounded like that. Maybe they’ll think the same of me when I speak. Probably not. They’re probably thinking, damn American. Ha!

I just want to soak in every amazing detail from this trip, since it is definitely a bucket list vacation for me. Hopefully I see some kangaroos or maybe a platypus soon. I’ll be sure to capture that moment when it happens. That’s probably something worth documenting.

I find it odd, and almost comical that people seem to have this expectation that I am going to have negative things to say about my son’s father. Almost.

Because I’m not. I never have, and even more than that, I never will.

It’s not about me feeling this need to defend him, because he’s a very grown man that can absolutely do that by and for himself. But it really boils down to the fact that I just don’t have too many negative things to say about him. And the less than desirable feelings that I do have in relation to him, stem from the disappointment created out of my own expectations. Never expectations that he gave me himself.

He’s always been very upfront about who he was, and definitely about who he wasn’t. I saw both of those sides very clearly. And yet and still, I made the choice to love him. I didn’t ‘fall’ in love with him. I didn’t trip over something magical, bump my head, and come out of a fog with the image of this knight in shining armor. But what I did do, is see a good man, that did little things like bring me a gallon of OJ when I called him sick, or made sure that my ever mounting pile of laundry was washed, dried, and hung in the appropriate place in my closet.

And now, past those little daily things, I love him even more for being the father to my Kamren Grey. Because no matter how much the people around me may not like him, without him, there is no Kamren. And let’s just be honest for a minute, Kam is the spitting image of his daddy. So to see a picture of my boy and not see his dad is all but impossible anyways. And seeing his father is now one of the only ways left for me to see a living, breathing, version of my son. And as a mother in my position, you take every little moment that you can get.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve certainly had more frustrations with this man than I’d like to count. Or that I even can count. I definitely don’t have enough fingers or toes to cover it at this point. But those are my frustrations. And they truly only get voiced completely to one other person. And even she knows where to stop when giving her advice/opinion on the whole shebang. So when anyone else comments on him, friend or otherwise, it just creates a very negative energy for me with said person. Especially lately.

I don’t think it matters so much that we weren’t successful in a romantic relationship, because no matter what happens or doesn’t, we created a family together. It may not have been intentional, and it may not have been under ideal circumstances, but it was and will always be perfect for who we were and are as human beings. I can absolutely attribute him to a major increase in my own self-awareness, and becoming the love I want to see in another person. So really, if you know me or are close to me now, the Melissa post war, and you like or even love me, then really you have him to thank.

Don’t worry, I’ll wait.

It’s the wanting you, never getting you
Keeps me wanting you, missing you
Just to picture you is what gets me through
Fit for you, I was meant for you
What I was sent to do, meant to do
Wasn’t meant for you
Hope I said that shit right

Cos’ if I never had you
Then I could never lose you
Do you know what might happen,
If I decide to choose you

Then the world may just stop spinning
It may just well be the ending
Talking all about existence
Who knows
But I cannot see tomorrow
If you’re not in my tomorrow

I was able to really vent the other night, for the first time in a long time. To someone completely impartial. He didn’t give me any suggestions, or tell me what my inner circle will. He just listened. Like really listened. And for the first time in a really long time I felt like I was really heard. Like he really, really heard me. He heard my hurt. He saw the pain written across my face when I looked up in time to see my son’s father being completely un-bothered, ironically, as he laughed with a few other guys in the gym, two of which have been pretty consistent in my text messages and effort to see me since finding out about my single status.

He didn’t try to give me any advice, and even made the comment that he just hasn’t known what to say to me since I lost my son. I appreciated that. The fact that he didn’t try to pretend like he knew, or compare it to a loss of his. And he let me just feel my own sadness, up until the point where I think I said, “my life just kind of sucks right now.” This is the point where  he actually corrected me. And I appreciated that. Because he was right, and I was faced with the truth that my life doesn’t suck. Losing my son sucks. And having his father decide to leave sucks too. But outside of that, my life is still actually good.

Work is steadily improving and I’m being given more & more opportunities, just in time for my department reorganization that will lead to multiple promotion options. That’s been such a blessing, and I’m actually happy to be waking up and going to work again. I’m going to Australia next week for a much needed getaway, just to clear my mind and find some peace. I’ve always wanted to go there. Since the 3rd grade when I had to be Australia for our class World Day. Ironically I would have never gotten this opportunity if it hadn’t been for my son. Another blessing that he’s given to remind me of his everlasting presence in my life. Even financially, things are really starting to come together more than they ever have. I just got a raise today at work, I’ve been steadily paying off all of my debt, and my savings is consistently growing without my need to take money back out. So just in general, life in a holistic sense is getting better.

It’s so weird to say that, and to know it’s true. Tomorrow will make 6 months since my son’s been gone, and I would have never imagined that 6 months down the road I’d be feeling okay. No great, but better. And better is truly an accomplishment, especially from where I’ve been.

And not that it makes too much of a difference but I’ve also been hanging out with someone new, who just makes me laugh. And it’s those good laughs, that come from the gut and escape your lips even when you’re not meaning for it to happen. I will say that it’s nice to really feel appreciated again, even if it’s just little things. And knowing that someone really cares if I made it home safely or am having a good day. And makes it clear that they want to see me and spend time with me. Someone who matches the most ridiculous memes sent and distracts me from the mundane activities of my every day life.

I guess what I’m getting at, is it’s nice to be around someone who isn’t so ‘unbothered’ about everything. These are the people that I want to spend my time around. This is the energy that I want to soak in and reflect back out into the world. This is where my rebuilding begins.

Apologies for the way I’ve been
And I couldn’t wash you off my skin, no I
I couldn’t live without you

You’re under my skin
Running in my bloodstream
These scars are the way that you loved me
I guess that you have to leave a tattoo
On my skin

What I know versus what I feel.

This is possibly the biggest crisis I face on a daily basis. Especially when knowing that what I feel wouldn’t and couldn’t make sense to anyone else. Because it’s how I feel.

To compound on that, it’s an entirely different ball game when the person that you want to feel a certain way just doesn’t. And it’s not because they couldn’t. It’s just that they don’t. And it will never matter what you do, or say. Or give. Of yourself. None of it will make even the littlest bit of difference. So you have to accept that, in spite of knowing how you feel. And feel the razor thin cut against the veins of your soul. The one that has the potential to bleed you to death. Even if you control the hand that holds that blade.

So then you realize that everyone has the luxury of looking out for themselves. Their best interests. Their desires. Their feelings. And even if you don’t do such a great job of doing it for yourself, you have to remember and expect that they always will. They always have. You’ve watched them do so firsthand for a very long time.

It’s time to put down the phone. Stop sending the novel length text messages. Stop expecting to see a response that you want. One that matches your feelings. It never will. It never has. You aren’t going to get that. Hoping for it just slices the open wound a little bit deeper.

I know we’re supposed to believe that hope doesn’t fail. But it does. Hope fails us all. Everyday. It failed in my desperation for my son. It’s failed me again in my hopes for his father. For Peter Pan. You aren’t Wendy. You never were.

You can be past a little let down. As long as you remember that you’re not dead. Even if they’ve already ripped out the pages that you were in their story. You won’t do that. You never could. But you can close that chapter and stop rereading it looking for an alternate ending. There isn’t one. There won’t be one.

The rest of your life is unwritten. Maybe you could find the courage to open yourself up to it. I so hope that one day you do.

This is my fight song
Take back my life song
Prove I’m alright song
My power’s turned on
Starting right now I’ll be strong
I’ll play my fight song
And I don’t really care if nobody else believes
‘Cause I’ve still got a lot of fight left in me

Why someone would want to test my mama bear instincts is beyond me. Like seriously, beyond me. I have and will let a lot of things roll of my back, because really, it means nothing. And more than that, said person that is attempting to poke the bear is so incredibly insignificant to this life as a whole, that it really has always meant nothing. But comma however, the very first second that you try to make any reference or connection to my child, well then, that’s a bad move on your end.

As you’ve recently discovered. Bad move little bear.

Don’t do it again. Next time I’ll be less than nice. Because trust me, I was in fact nice when I had to correct your ass. I’m sorry that you chose me to try to dig at the person that you have a real issue with, and further more, that you tried to make a connection to my child. I’m sorry that your self-esteem and self-worth at that low. But that has nothing to do with me, nor will it ever.

I”m sorry that I am in fact prettier than you, and I’m not meaning in the physical sense. Although I’m not sure that you could negate that one either. But I have a good heart. Good character. You cannot say the same. So not only does that translate past that miserable look plastered on your face all the time, but it shows the disturbingly dark color of your heart and excessively low levels of negative energy that pour out of you on a daily basis. I hope you find some way to love yourself soon. I really do.

One day your love quotient will rise, and hopefully it rises within yourself first. Until that time little bear, it would be well advised for you to keep your distance. From both me and my social media sites. Stalking has never been cute, specifically when you have no reason to be interested in me. If you did, then I would imagined you would have looked me in the eyes and spoken the numerous times we’ve been face to face, instead of hanging your head or looking away. Notice I don’t do that with you. I don’t have to with non-factors. You are a non-factor, or were until you tried to fight your relationship issues with a connection to my child. So continue to make any more references or connections involving my son, and I will in fact have a reason to dislike you. Do yourself a favor and don’t give me that.

Respectfully,

-One Tough Mother

Did you know I always thought you were braver than me? Did you ever guess that that was why I was so afraid? It wasn’t that I only loved some of you. But I wondered if you could ever love more than some of me.

Father’s Day took me by surprise this year. Not because I wasn’t expecting it, anticipating it. But because I didn’t think it would bother me. I’m not a father. This wasn’t my day. My day was in May, and I actually think I felt worse on Father’s Day than I did on Mother’s day.

My heart literally hurt for my son’s father on Sunday. And I knew there was nothing I could do to make it an easy or good day for him. It didn’t much matter since he was noticeably absent again, but he was noticeably absent on Mother’s Day too, so if I said I was surprised I’d be lying. I wasn’t. But this isn’t about that. Or him. None of this is about him. It never has been.

But yesterday was the day that my little boy should have officially been 6 months old. It seems weird to think about that. That I should have a 6 month old. And I get stuck wondering what he would be doing. I never really got any real milestones with him unfortunately, so to think about everything he’d be able to do at this point leaves my mind spinning. I wonder what size clothes he’d be in, although I’m pretty sure he’d be close to 12 months since he came out filling out those 0-3 months pretty good. And just length wise he needed quite a bit of extra space.

It’s weird because I spent last week anticipating yesterday, but yesterday I honestly didn’t even remember until about 4:30. Blame it on an extremely long day at work that was prefaced by only 3 hours of sleep. I was oddly nostalgic yesterday though, mostly about my pregnancy and missing all of those special moments. Like the ones where his daddy would put his phone to my belly and play the most ridiculous songs for him to hear, only for me to tell him he’d never hear that in real life as long as I had my way. Ironically I was right and he never did, but that’s not a good thing.

I did get the most amazing signs all the way from NYC yesterday, from one of the sweetest, bravest mamas I know. It was definitely a gift from Xander and Kamren that was sent to her, to send to me. Maybe they knew I was just too out of it yesterday to notice it for myself. But they let us know that they’re good. Probably even great. And they even left a little message for X’s little rainbow bother S. That was certainly not a coincidence.

I am so glad to have other mamas to send me messages and signs like that. Especially since I don’t truly have anyone else walking this path with me anymore. He politely excused himself, which was his choice. It makes things harder sometimes. To face it alone. But I’m actually pretty good at being alone. I kind of always have been. Maybe I’m fiercely independent. Maybe I’m just an idiot. It’s still a coin toss at this point. But what I do know, is that I’ll never have to answer to Kamren and tell him why I walked away. Because I didn’t, and I won’t. Not ever. I will carry him with me every step of the way.