Words of Affirmation

I remember sitting at a restaurant with my best friend back in March. And, can we pause for a moment and address how simply amazing my bestie is. If there was an award to be given out for the most faithful and dedicated friend, she would hands down take the cake (literally and figuratively). She accepts me regardless of my mood, is on speed dial for vent sessions, has a couch that has a collection of my tears, and a deep love for my Addy despite never being able to meet her. My bestie, she loves well.

Okay, back to our dinner date. I was sharing with her the radical idea that I had conjured. I explained that I had figured out what it was going to take for me to heal from the devastating end to my marriage. I can remember thinking it was going to be the solution, the answer, the way to end the hurt that I had been harboring. 

I was going to ask him to write a letter to me.

I learned a long time ago that my love language is words of affirmation. I save every card that I have been given, file the most touching emails, and screen shot messages that encourage me. So, it made perfect sense to me to ask him to write a letter validating me. I wanted a piece of paper that proved that despite his decision to have an affair that I was a good wife, that I was pretty, that I made him happy, that I was worthy. I thought to myself that this said letter, the very words affirming my role, would hang in my home for others to see and be worn as a coat of armor.  I would carry it around and when I began to doubt myself or when I felt I was being judged because I was 'lacking something that resulted in him choosing to have an affair,' I would be able hold up his words for all the world to read. This letter would allow me to say,  "Yes, my husband had an affair. But look, I was a really good wife." or "Yes, my marriage ended in divorce. But see, these are the things I did well."

As I was explaining this brilliant idea to my best friend, I felt so relieved as I just knew that his validating words would heal me. He broke me and I needed him to fix me.

And so, I called him. 

I reminded him of my love language and shared exactly what I needed him to do. 

I gave bullet points of topics that it would be helpful for him to touch on and that he could end by explaining what he misses the most from the life we spent 12 years building.

Yes, I did that.  I really did. 

And, he agreed.

Four days later , I was reflecting on the weekend that I had just had at Hope Spoken and replaying my conversation. I was anxiously anticipating his healing letter. As I got out of the shower, I had a moment of ultimate clarity so real that it stopped me in my tracts. I looked around and it was just me. 

In a split second, loud and clear I heard the words, "But Aly, to me you are worthy and to me you are enough." They flooded my head and penetrated my soul. Standing alone in a little hotel bathroom, I looked around expecting to see someone uttering the words to me. They were so concise, so convicting, and so liberating.  A defining moment of healing for me. 

This letter that I thought would heal me, would simply be words. 

Empty, broken, weightless words. Regardless of how eloquent, they would be from him and he doesn't define or validate who I am. His actions were independent of my role as his wife and he isn't the foundation of my worth. His words could not heal me, they could not free me, nor could they ever liberate my spirit.

I don't need his letter to validate who I am. 

To the King of Kings, I am worthy and I am enough.
Worthy & Enough. Praise Jesus that he can make all things new.  

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And for the record, I hesitated to share. But, I was dinning with yet another friend recently (I recognize I am abundantly blessed by the people in my life) and sharing with her how I struggle with meeting new people. It might seem odd given that I share pretty openly on this little blog or on my IG account. But to me, this is safe because if you don't want to read, you would unfollow me or close the window and I would never know. But in person, that isn't the case. Opening up to strangers is scary because it leaves me vulnerable to how they will respond to my story. My dear friend explained to me that perhaps sharing in person or sharing of the most intimate moments of healing would be just what someone else needed to hear. That maybe, just maybe, God would use my broken and redeemed story to encourage and draw others to Him. It seems crazy to me. I am just being me and sharing my authentically messy self but if my words could possibly help someone else, I will share. You too are worthy and you too are enough. Did you hear that? You are worthy and you are enough.

And also for the record...that letter, it never came.

Shawn's Day That Came

Growing up with six siblings wasn't always peaches and cream.

 

I can distinctly remember sobbing when I found out my mom was pregnant with my youngest sister. I was eight and I was very clear that "we already had enough kids in this family."

I always shared a bedroom, a bathroom, a birthday month, and my super hip clothes (denim overalls are not surprisingly making a comeback!). Although, being the eldest girl meant the hand-me-downs were from me and not to me! 

Contrary to what you might expect, it was never cool in middle school to be picked up in a conversion van and every time I had a friend over you could count on a sibling to two who insisted on being the center of attention. There were constant fights over the hot water, the front seat, the last of the milk, and the old school desktop computer so we could instant message with friends. 

I didn't appreciate what it meant to grow up in a big family as a child.

 But, the older we get, the closer my siblings and I have become. 

Sure we still bicker, and over share our unsolicited opinions, and poke fun a little too deep at times. But, we defend and protect. Celebrate and mourn. And we we share a fierce love and loyalty. 

So, when our eldest brother wed, #teameagle was in fully force to ensure their vision....the one where every detail was maliciously planned...was brought to fruition. There was pie baking, veggie chopping, flower snipping, and moss gluing. There was U-Haul driving, tent propping, ribbon tying, light stringing, and chandelier hanging. There was cake icing, centerpiece spritzing, card alphabetizing, and groom reassuring. 

But, that is when I am most proud to have so many siblings. 
We rally at the needs of another, I can attest as the repeated recipient.

And, that big brother of mine, he made certain that my beloved daughter was remembered on their day. She was the honorary flower girl.

 Their day was one of my most favorite family events to date. 
The ceremony, the speeches, the 'I won't be able to feel my feet the next day' nonstop dancing, and the celebration of their love. 

All because this day came for them.
 Welcome to the family. 

Being Aunt Aly

When divorce becomes your reality, you think about the splitting of the obvious...the house, the bills, the finances, the "stuff." The task of dissecting it all was deeply painful but I think what has proven harder is the splitting of relationships. 

There was an unspoken understanding of 'these being my people,' of you taking these friends, and of each of us retaining our families. That is hard. I don't care so much about the stuff (unless you are talking about Addy's things and in that case, MommaBear won't part). But, it was hard for me to accept that those whom have become my family wouldn't maintain their role in my life.

Those very people that stood in the room with us on the day my beloved was born, those whom held her, and had the opportunity to take in her presence...those people were no longer our people but mine or his. 

Blessed am I because what I have found is that those very people love and care about me just the same as before that little divorce decree changed their title.

This was so abundantly clear to me one Sunday when I had the opportunity to spend the day with his niece and nephews...the kids whom I met the day they were each born, whom I have watched grow up, have celebrated their milestones, and love deeply. As we jumped in and out of the pool, hearing "Aunt Aly look" or "Aunt Aly race me" or "Aunt Aly catch" was such an incredible blessing. To them, I am still Aunt Aly. And, that role is not something I take for granted.

So in being a good aunt,  I treated them to ice cream after our swim with only one rule...the bowl was the limit. I let them each fill it as full as they could with ice cream, candy, and every topping their little taste buds fancied. And then I watched as they joyfully indulged. It only felt appropriate to fill them full as they were unknowingly filling me.


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Also, I want to share the sermon from Sunday. 
It was Matthew 5:4. "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted."

As I sat in the pew, I cried, I nodded in agreement, and I felt like I needed to shout "amen." So, I wanted to share. Friends, life is hard. Maybe you haven't lost a child or a marriage, but we all mourn something. A parent, our health, a dream, a job. Whatever it is for you, Jesus wants to meet you in the middle of your grief. Listen and be encouraged. I was.

Veggetti and Meatballs

If you asked Abby, I think she would tell you that her favorite Whole30 meal was meatloaf and cauliflower "mashed potatoes." But for me, hands down it was veggetti and meatballs.

The Veggetti was a purchase in the midst of our Whole30 journey and it was well worth the $14.99 price tag! Run and get it because it can turn veggies into pasta or lo-mein noodles!

Simply twisted and like magic, the zucchini and carrots were noodles!

 To cook the veggetti, just toss them into boiling water for three minutes and then drain.

As for the meatballs, I could not find a Whole30 recipe that I totally jived with (mainly because a lot of them had mushrooms, bison, or pork which I wasn't so sure about) so I combined and came up with my own.

Ingredients:

1lb Beef (I use the leanest ground available)

1 Handful of Fresh Spinach (Shredded)

1 Small Sweet Potato (Peeled and Grated)

1/2 Tbsp Dried Parsley

1/2 tsp of Paprika

1 Egg

Salt and Pepper

Combine and roll into golf ball sized balls.

 To save time on the weekdays, I made the meatballs on Sunday and left them rolled in the fridge until I was ready to bake them. 

Coat the pan with coconut oil, spread the meatballs, and then cover with foil.

Bake at 375 degrees for 40 minutes.

Toss them over the cooked veggetti and top with sauce (if you are eating Paleo or Whole30, I highly recommend Costco's Kirkland brand of Marinara).

I told you the Whole30 meals were delicious! 

You can do it!

Day31 of The Whole30

So what did we eat on Day31 following the Whole30?

We indulged! Self-serve frozen yogurt with all the toppings for the win!

It was as if it was meant to be when a little email landed in my inbox on the morning of Day31. We were already planning (one of us may have taken the planning part very serious!) to treat ourselves but getting such an email made it feel all the more needed.

And it was good. Like really good.

And, my colon handled it like a champ {insert fist pump}.

Sorry if that is TMI but I say the word 'poop' or some variation at least 100 times a day for a living. 

But since we actually really enjoyed the Whole30, we plan to stick with the meal planning, prepping, and eating of real foods when we are at home. We stuck to every rule over the 30 days but now we will be a little more lacked if we are out and about (as in my purse won't double as a lunch box).

Whole30

It was about a year ago that I began to get serious about getting healthy. I had been a grieving momma for 18 weeks and yet still had no idea that a little message would pull the rug out from under my feet. Nonetheless, last July I started to get serious about refueling my weary body because the last thing I needed was to near the end of Year28 and look in the mirror only to realize that I didn't help myself. Certainly, I could go for mashed potatoes and 'so good you can eat it with a spoon gravy' from Stroud's, or Cinnamon Roll French Toast from Kate's (maybe even with a side of biscuits and gravy), or the biggest bowl of chip and salsa from Margaritas, or some de-light-ful BBQ from OK Joe's...oh BBQ, how I love thee. But, I knew that eating my feelings would only be a temporary fix and I would be left still doubting me. 

You see, after I learned of the affair, my self esteem was depleted. If only I was _____. Fill in a word and chances are, I thought it...funnier, smarter, prettier, skinner, more free spirited, or more outgoing. With an empty tank on my self esteem and a world that felt completely chaotic, how I cared for my body felt like the only thing I could control (well that and my eyebrows so they were well tended to). So, I got serious. You can read more about the start of my journey here.

Over the course of the last year, with the help of the little goldmine that is Pinterest, Instagram, and the new magical library card I acquired (sidenote: when I redid my bedroom, I opted to ditch the TV and it was the best decision as I have come to enjoy reading!), I was set. I searched for recipes and books about clean eating and landed upon the Paleo approach. It is a life style geared toward eating real foods. I spent a year doing my approach to Paleo and since clearly cavemen drank diet coke and ate the occasional Mexican dinner, I did too. When I was at home and cooking for myself, I ate Paleo. When I was eating out, I didn't fret about the indulgences. 

Coupled with my diet change, I got back into boxing. An hour of wailing on a bag honestly became a form of anger therapy for me. There may or may not have been a few times when I was jabbing with all might as tears streamed down my face. The instructors looked at me unsure how to respond and then just let me do my thing. Therapeutic I tell ya. 

Shortly after moving in, Abby encouraged me to sign up for a 5K with her. I am in no way a runner but slowly we worked our way up to three miles and completed our first race in May. What I discovered was running became tranquility for me and somewhat spiritual too. No worries, I have not lost all my marbles. I assure you, my former self would have rolled her eyes at my current self but running has become a time for me to clear my head, to focus, and to listen. Trust me, I don't rise with the sun because I love to exercise, I have just really come to appreciate the serenity that the open run has provided. 

This summer I picked up a copy of It Starts With Food and after reading, Abby was gung-ho to start the Whole30. So while she was on a mission trip in Guatemala, I cleaned out the pantry, fridge, and freezer of all non-compliant foods. I made a calendar and a binder of meal ideas. And then, I restocked with lots of fresh veggies, fruits, and meats. And for 30 days, there was no cheating! Although I will confess...our budget didn't allow for strictly grass fed, free range, or completely organic foods, we just made the best choices based off our budget.

And we did it! 30 days of nothing by clean, nutrient rich, real foods! 

That is an entire 30 days without Diet Coke for me! At first it felt like a crime against humanity to pass a QuikTrip, see the sign for 79 cent fountain drinks, and keep driving. But rest assured, I made it. 

Surprisingly, it was much easier than we anticipated. And honestly my biggest surprise was how many foods I actually like that I thought I didn't! Things like sweet potatoes, nectarines, salmon, blueberries, cashews, and watermelon. 

We made our weekly grocery store run on Sunday and then food prepped for the entire week. With the dinner calendar on hand, weeknight meals became relatively easy as everything had been prepped on Sunday. And we were really surprised by how many of the meals we absolutely loved!

I won't pretend to be a expert on anything Paleo or the Whole30, but here are some pictures of the foods we have been enjoying. And let me tell you, there were some really, really good meals! 

........

I did have to set my alarm to get up about 15 minutes earlier to prepare breakfast but it was worth it to me. Usually I made eggs (either scrambled or fried in coconut oil), a side of a veggie (either a pile of raw spinach, stir fried peppers & zucchini, or a grated sweet potato), and a Whole30 compliant chicken sausage (which I found at Costco).

 When I was craving pancakes, I found a recipe for a sweet-and-savory blueberry tortilla and it was delish!

I kept lunch pretty simple and typically stuck with leftovers or a salad of some sort. Sometimes it was a taco salad with spinach and guacamole and beef, peppers, and onion that I cooked on a prep day. Or a garden salad with Sunday prepped chicken, carrots, macadamia nuts, hard boiled eggs, and  homemade ranch (of which the base is Paleo mayo), or tuna salad (using the same mayo as the base). 

Snacking consisted of carrots or a fruit with handful of pistachios, almonds, cashew butter, or almond butter. My go-to snack was Monkey Salad (it was also good with strawberries, blueberries, or nectarines in place of the bananas). We treated ourselves to caramelized apples with dinner one night.  And then there were sweet potato...lots and lots of sweet potatoes. Microwaved, grated into hash browns, or baked into fries. I am a convert to lover of sweet potatoes.

 

Dinner was my jam though. Probably because I had someone to cook with who was equally as motivated and excited to try new recipes and eat yummy foods. 

We made zucchini lasagna. 

Actually the first time I made it, I made extra of the stuffing and froze it so this time I just had to thaw, slice fresh zucchini, layer it up, and bake!

There was ginger chicken on stir fried lo-mein noodles (made from zucchini and carrots), meatloaf (@whole30recipes on IG) and cauliflower "mashed potatoes," and garden fresh peppers stuffed with beef and veggies. 

Before you go doubting, I am a mashed potato loving girl and was pleasantly surprised by the cauliflower mash...I mean I thought I didn't like cauliflower. 

The key to the mash is coconut milk!

 

And one of my favorites, salmon cakes!

Or my other favorite, veggiti and meatballs! For the love of meatballs, they were delightful (and I couldn't find a recipe that I was totally on par with so I made one up and will share it soon). For now, behold the beauty. 

And for one of our last meals, we decided to go out with a bang.
Grilled steak with veggies and pineapple.

There was only one small causality in the Whole30...

Turns out my chopping skills were sub par and the stuffed peppers resulted in a trip to the urgent care. A couple of quick stitches and all was well.

......

Because I know you will ask, I lost 5 pounds and Abby lost 8.

I didn't do the Whole30 to lose weight, I wanted to be more mindful of the foods I was eating and the ways they affected my body. Obviously no one is going to complain about dropping a few lbs or of feeling less 'fluffy' but really what I feel like I gained was a better palate for foods that I didn't even know I would like and a challenge to take the time to better fuel me. 

Dating {Part II}

Let's just call this Part II of my rambling series on dating, of which I know nothing about. Thanks for coming along!

Before I went on my a fore mentioned first ever first date...you know the blind date of all types...I spent a lot of time rediscovering who I am. I thought I had me figured out but my vision came crashing down not once but twice. Where I thought my life was headed, what I dreamed to be my future, and my image of being a wife and raising my daughter were stripped from my core. 

Who was I when suddenly my last name was a remnant of a former life, when my in-laws were no longer legally such, and when my home was occupied by only me? What did I believe? What were my passions and my dreams? What was my reality? 

Suddenly, I had no idea who I was anymore. 

So, Year 28 became my year to rediscover who I am. To reconnect with friends, explore hobbies, to soul search, to refuel my spirit, to prove to myself that I could still stand, and to began to mend the pieces from the shattering of my world.

Before ever bringing someone in, I want to be certain of who I am. So, when "dating' went from being 'in the future' to 'Thursday night,' {after nearly having a panic attack}, I got out a piece of paper and a pen and wrote out my standards. Pillars of sorts that when pondering a future husband were nonnegotiable. They stem from who I have become and perhaps things that looking back just didn't work in my marriage. 

Maybe they are obvious but friends, this dating thing is seriously foreign to me so it made perfect sense to my Type A self to have a list to help guide my heart. They are things like ambition and dreams and a desire to raise and be surrounded by family. There are shared interest and shared core values. But of those, at very top is a shared passion for a shared faith.

When I was 16, we shared a fervor for Jesus but over the course of the 12 years, our beliefs in creation diverged. I never stopped believing but having different beliefs, I didn't pursue Jesus. I prayed and went to church on holidays or when visiting family but I had no church to call home and no community in which I was fostered. I never stopped believing, I simply stopped growing. I had become complacent with life as I knew it and quite content waking up on Sunday mornings with the only thing on the agenda being the sous-chef in the construction of breakfast.

When I began working in my current job, I quickly befriended the only nurse that was around my age. If I can be totally honest, sometimes I rolled my eyes at her passionate pursuit to live a Godly life. While I had become content, she was anything but. When my perfectly planned pregnancy began to be filled with hard choices and uncertainty, she began praying with all her heart. There were cards and notes left on my desk, in my work bag, and in my drawer. There were texts and emails with scripture, encouraging words, and reminders that she and her people were praying for me and my Addy daily. She sent me sermons, songs, and books that she thought might encourage me. When I returned to work after my leave of absence, she had a way of reading my mood as I walked through the door, could anticipate triggers before I had to face them, and has a memory that includes the date of every one of my milestones. And there were Reece's, lot and lots of Reece's. She exemplified the love of Jesus to me consistently for two of the most difficult years in my life. And never out of pride, never being overbearing. She simple lived what she so deeply believed.

She sent me the link to the song "Worn" but Tenth Avenue North and told me to listen when I was ready. I filed it under 'someday' and then forgot about it until I was driving to work one day. It was October and I was consumed with how I was going to overcome the grief of Addy's passing and the devastating end of the marriage. How was I going to pick up the pieces, how was I going to mend my heart, how was I ever going to feel whole? As I listened to the words of the song, I wept. Big, ugly tears streamed down my face. I will never forget that moment.

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn

I know I need to lift my eyes up
But I'm too weak
Life just won’t let up
And I know that you can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

 

 

It was one of the two most defining moments of healing for me. Hearing the words brought this overwhelming sense of relief. I had long tried to understand how I was going to overcome all the hurt, sadness, grief, and devastation. In the course of that very song, relief came as I realized that healing was never going to be through me. So I cried out with all that I had left and asked Jesus to begin to heal me in ways that I couldn't heal myself. I cried for rest and a song risen from the ashes of my broken life. It was in that moment, that for the first time since Addy's passing in March, that knew that I was going to be okay. Someday I would be okay.

Since, I have been pursuing my relationship with our gracious God and there is peace within me that I didn't know could or perhaps would ever come. And though I still have hard days and days of hurt, sadness, or even some of anger, good has come. 

So at the very top of my 'future spouse non-negotiable standards' is a shared passion for a shared faith. A shared love and desire to pursue a God who redeems. 

 

 

Dating {Oh dear Jesus, save me now}

Can we talk about something that makes me sweat, want to crawl under a table, and continuously need to pulse check? What could be that bad? If you guessed 'dating,' those party poppers are for you, so welcome aboard this adventure. Oh dear Jesus, save me now.

When it comes to dating, I am a fish way out of water. Not only did I never envision it to be a part of my world but I don't really count my first ever "first date" as such.  You see, it was my 16th birthday and he joined my ENTIRE family for dinner to celebrate. That was it.  Signed, sealed, and delivered, my heart was done for. He was it. But that thing called life happened. And that little 16 year old girl could never have prepared for how that story would end. But it did. And so here I am. Embarking on a new chapter.

I was recently sent on my first date...and a blind date at that.
And let me tell you, he was super nice and totally sweet but he knew nothing about me.
I left feeling overwhelmed by feelings that I didn't even know I had yet to deal with. Things like confusion for how to get to know the depth of someone and they of me, a fear of letting my guard down, and a surprising anger for the reality of being 'single' after once vowing forever. It wasn't anything he did or said, it simply is me coming to terms with where I am in my life.

I feel like there should have been a little warning flag waved  a giant billboard alerting him...

Warning:

Aly comes with wounds. There is a segment of the city she avoids like the plague, she has a great fear of being hurt, a very tender heart, and a deceased child whom she will grief forever. Not just for another year or two but for forever. 

That is a lot. 
But I do want to share my life with someone.  And someday, I want to be able to hear someone call me momma.  That's my dream, just as it was at 16, and 23, and 27, and still at 29.

So I've secretly created a fairytale in my head. It's quiet simple. If I could click my ruby red slippers together, my future husband would appear and say, "I know your journey and someday, when you are ready to share, I would love to hear the depth of your heart. But for now, just know that I know and I embrace you."  I would fist pump bigger than any Jersey Shore party you ever did see. Ha. Who am I kidding? I would probably cry. I would cry like a baby at the thought of him already knowing my story and yet hearing him say he embraces all that I am. 

I know when the timing is right, it will be right because He hasn't failed me yet. 

Back to the here and now.

 

{FAQs}

Answering some of my most random but commonly asked questions...here we go...



Did you change your last name?

This is the most popular question that I get asked and it just so happens to be one of my biggest internal battles when in the midst of my divorce. I struggled because at stake was the ultimate question of 'who am I?' It was perplexing and deeply loaded, the summation of ones identity. Sitting in a court room, facing a judge felt like an out of body experience. When she asked what my last name would be all I could hear was 'who am I now?' So, the simple answer to such a difficult question is no, I kept his last name. In some ways it was out of pure exhaustion. The thought of having to add more to my plate in the midst of all the other changes invading my world seemed like it could very well push me over the edge. And more so, his last name is my Addy's last name and in my cycle of grief, I wasn't ready to have that taken from me too. 

 

What is Addy's diagnosis?

I get asked this question quiet often too. When explaining that my child passed away, the question to follow is usually, "from what." And my standard answer is 'multiple fetal anomalies.' With the guidance of a very wonderful genetics counselor, we exhausted every avenue for answers down to an ongoing research study using blood from her umbilical cord as well as samples from him and I. And the results...nothing. I know her major anomalies (a right-sided diaphragmatic hernia and dysplastic kidneys) but the question of why or a diagnosis remain unknown.

Do you still live in your house?

At the present, my home is still my home. I am not sure what my future holds but my status quo world became very unsteady in a very short amount of time so my home was a constant for me. A double edged sword at times, I have a love-hate relationship living in a place that was once ours. But it was also home to me and I wasn't ready to figure out where to go next. I flew the coup solo for the first time in my entire life for the first six months. Believe it or not, prior him moving out, I had shared a bedroom with someone (my sister, a potluck roommate as a freshman, sorority sisters, and then him) for all but my senior year of college! I didn't realize how lonely I had become until by the grace of God, two of my sisters were able to move in with me in January. It is like a never ending slumber party and I welcomed the noise.

Is the grief from the loss of my daughter or the loss of my marriage been more difficult to endure?

Honestly, I am not sure how to answer.

If you followed Addy's story, you know that our pregnancy was a series of ups and downs. Addy's prognosis was not a result of anything I ate or didn't eat, or anything I did or didn't do, nor was it a result of either her daddy's or my family history. No one made a choice that determined Addalyn's prognosis, it simply just was.  And, it wasn't until our fetal health appointment at 28 weeks that we knew her life was going to be limited. My water broke at 35 weeks and 5 days so I had over seven weeks to prepare. And I say the word 'prepare' but there was not really anyway to prepare my inexperienced self to face death.  I simply mean gathering resources...I met with a comfort care doctor to ensure that in her living moments she would never struggle, I selected a funeral home, determined our wishes for her body, and planned a memorial service. I met with other mommas who had lost babies and tried with all the strength I could muster to enjoy my final weeks of being pregnant. I knew, to the best of my comprehension, what was coming and had prepared the best that I knew how. It would be impossible to ever fully ready my heart or my spirit but all plans and arrangements where in place.

The betrayal is different. The events that transpired that led to the ending of our marriage were willingly made yet deceptive choices. I was caught off guard, shocked, devastated, and unprepared to face the unraveling of my marriage. Infidelity has a way of doing that. Of making you question everything, doubt everything, and it is a mixed bag of anger, hurt, devastation, sadness, loneliness, self doubt, and brokenness. And still what hurts the most is that the two are woven together.

While the some of the components of the grief cycle are the same, the feeling are different.

Yet, they overlap. His choices overlaps with the pregnancy, Addy's birth, and the days of trying to desperately make sense of a life without my child. It all fell in a matter on months leaving all the feelings intertwined. It is hard to separate the emotions of one trial because for me, they are so woven together. 

You seem to have a unique ability to walk through your grief.

Most days I feel ill equipped to handle what life handed but when you are knee deep in it, to me there wasn't an alternative.  If you have lost a child, you certainly know that there is not a guide for how to cope. Grief hits at every angle and sometimes it is when you least it expect it. It is not easy to take a picture of Addy to Santa, to host a party without her on her first birthday, or even to celebrate the milestones for my friend's babies that will never be for my Addy. But, I don't do these things because they are easy. I do what any other parent desires for their child...to make memories and to ensure they know that they are loved. I have the same desires for my child. I get strange looks sometimes and I have come to terms with them. The tears and sadness that come with doing the hard things in life, to me just mean that my Addy is loved.  

{Powell Garden Butterfly Festival}

 
Do you still see your counselor?

Yes, yes, and yes again. I actually saw her a couple years before my pregnancy when I was working through some hard stuff in life. She was randomly selected based off my rigorous criteria...female, close to my house, and covered by my insurance! After Addy's passing, together we went to a few different counselors that specialize in the loss of a child but I just didn't feel they were right for me. Finding the right counselor is vital and it is ok to try out several before deciding on one. Knowing I had to do something to begin to process through the grief, I forwent the specialized grief counselors and made an appointment back at my original counselor. I just jive with her and her diagram loving, dry erase board using self. I saw her weekly for a good six months, then every other week, then every three weeks, and just recently I went to a 'make an appointment when needed' status. And this week, I found myself on her familiar couch after my bestie encouraged me that maybe I could benefit from her guidance. That my friends, is the best friend a girl could as for. One that gets you on such a level and is brave enough to say that perhaps an appointment is warranted. So that little couch which I have come to find comfort in greeted me. And on that couch have been some of my worst days. I can distinctly remember a session where I said nothing for an entire hour. I simply sobbed with my counselor setting near by reminding me that it was a safe place to let it all out. And the day I learned of the affair, I sat gasping for air on that very couch as I tried to process what seemed impossible. And through every emotion, every high and low, every deep dark pain, my counselor has guided me, supported me, and listened to my pain. If I can recommend one thing, when life gets to be too much, know that there is no shame in seeking help. Whether through your church or using my rigorous criteria, find someone trained to counsel you and do so with your head held high.

How did he meet her, did you know her, were there signs looking back that you missed, how did you find out about the affair, are they still together, do you still talk to him?

Out of respect for him and our memories together, these questions will go unanswered.  I married him because I cared deeply about, because he made me feeling special, because I felt loved, and because I loved him. Our marriage was not perfect, we each made mistakes along the way. For a long time, I thought if I could just know all the details of his affair, at some point I would understand why. That some light bulb would go off and I would think to myself, "well now it all makes complete sense." But the more I learned, the less I understood. So truth be told, some of the questions you have are the very same questions I have and it is probably for the best that I leave it at that.  I still care about him and part of me will always love him so I won't pass judgement nor speak to the details of his choices. 

Where do you see yourself in the future?

When I daydreamed about being a 'grown-up,' life as I know it isn't what came to mind. But probably that is true in some capacity for everyone. So I am trying to stop living for the next big thing and be present.   I am still working to heal my heart and my spirit so that is my focus. The here and the now.