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Thursday, October 9, 2014

This Too Shall Pass...





I don't know if it's the time of year, the weather, the changing of seasons , or my hormones but a sadness has washed over me the last few days. A loneliness I get from time to time. A loneliness that brings me to a place where I feel like there is something wrong with me, why I feel so different than others I know. I start to question my life, I start to question me as a person and wonder why I am the way I am, I get discouraged and I feel like I am destined to be alone the rest of my life.

 I am a 30 year old women who has a hard time making new friends, keeping friends, having friends my own age. I am an old soul, a mother hen, a 50 year old women in a 30 year old body. I am old fashioned, stubborn, a loner, a homebody, quiet, I get attached easy, and I am more like my mom than I ever wanted to be.

I try to think to myself that maybe it is the little steps that will allow me to grow into that person I envision? Maybe I set to high of standards for myself? Maybe I am just always going to be this way and I just need to accept it? Maybe I am judging myself too much? Things will happen when they are supposed to, be patient. You are lovable, and you are likable....

Then that little voice screams, no one will love you, no one will put up with you, no one will try and get to know you, the real you, who would really like you....all things I know aren't true deep in my heart.

Self love, and self compassion are not a part of my vocabulary when I am discouraged and lonely. Though I do try and allow these emotions to be there and to just be, just sit in, and just trust. I am only human and it is all a part of this life's process. Sometimes it is easier said than done...

This too shall pass....

Sunday, September 28, 2014

The Beginning




As I reflected on my journey yesterday I was brought back to that painful part of my past. Not just with Mckenna’s death, but everything before her death. My marriage falling apart, having to find a place to live, not making enough money to support Mckenna and myself, taking care of my mom after her surgery, packing up the house by myself, doing everything on my own because that life was no longer what he wanted. I lost everything in a matter of 3 months. I felt alone, lost and broken.
Looking back I can see just how broken I was, how out of my body I was, and feeling a little bit more compassion for that 24 year old Ashley.

After Mckenna’s death I felt as if I was drowning, slowly dying inside and trying to pick up the pieces of my life. The one place I felt safe was no longer safe, I distanced myself from my family, I distanced myself from my friends, I was in a dark world where I was slowly being deprived of air and suffocating.  My life seemed to be spiraling out of control and I slowly reach a place where if I did not do something I was going to die.

I was having flashbacks, I couldn’t sleep, I was anxious, scared of my thoughts, I wouldn’t allow myself to cry, I pushed the pain so deep inside that when it tried to escape I felt like I was going to explode so letting it out was not an option. If I let go I would surely die. But it was the not letting go that nearly took my life.

 I know I have written about my journey and why I am where I am today, but I just want to share for those who may be scared to reach out, those who are scared no one would show up and see them, see their pain, for those who need to be seen, heard and upheld while they feel like their world is spiraling out of control after losing their child. I had a voice inside me telling me that I needed to get help, I needed to find someone to help me and I needed to reach out. I went on a trip to Australia and told myself that I would make it my mission to get help when I got home. It took me 3 months to walk into a support group. I was terrified to go, I was so nervous I felt as if I was going to throw up. I was about to open up to strangers that my daughter died and not only died but died from me moving a television. I thought, what would they think? Would they judge me? Would they run from my pain? Would they be able to handle my story? As it got closer to me the more terrified I got. When it was my turn I was shaking, the tears came and I spoke quickly hoping the words would just hurry and fly out of my mouth without causing me too much pain. I looked at the ground as I told a part of the story and I was watching it before my eyes, I was in my own world, I looked up and saw the sadness of the facilitators face but I also saw the compassion, the empathy, the understanding. I knew in that moment that I was where I was meant to be, I knew that that is where I would find the strength to work through this horrific tragedy.

I will never forget that moment because it was the moment that saved my life. I listened to that little voice (which I feel was Mckenna) and followed my heart. I have grown in ways that I truly never thought I would after Mckenna’s death, but I did and here I am carrying the grief, trusting the grief and allowing the pain to come and go without judgment. I allow it to be what it is and trust that I will be ok. It has taken a lot of work to get here and it has not been easy, but it has been worth it. Love is the reason we have so much pain when we lose those we love, but I would never want to not feel love in fear of pain. The pain validates my love.


I am forever thankful for those who have sat with me in those darkest days and never really left me. I may have done the work, but their guidance is also what saved my life. Truly saved my life. 

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Yes Even After 6 Years....Sigh




Mckenna  has been gone 6 years, 6 years. I just don’t know how that happened and yet this year it feels like it hasn’t been that long. I yearn for her, long for her, and when I look at her pictures I cry, yes even 6 years later. Sometimes it is hard for me to fathom that Mckenna died, that she is buried in the ground, and that I held her when she died. Just does not seem possible.

Dead and died were not a part of my vocabulary in the beginning because those words hurt my soul, they didn’t feel “right” (as if saying my daughter is dead would ever really feel “right.”) And still sometimes when I say those words my breath is taken as it is hard to believe that my child died. How she could wake up one morning and 3 hours later be fighting for her life, how 9 hours later she was in my arms as her heart stops beating, how I could go to bed that night without her? I listen to those words coming out of my mouth and they feel as if I am telling someone else’s story, a story from a movie, a story that could not possibly be my life.  

Not sure why this year has been more intense with grief than last year, and I guess it shouldn’t really matter why, it just is. Tears come easy as I think of Mckenna and sit with the pain. I wish it was easy for me to lay on my bed, curl up into a ball, and cry those deep cries out like I know I need to, like I know I should. Silent tears fall, as I just wish this wasn’t my life.

This past year has brought me to a place of peace that I have not had in many, many years. Though I am more at peace it doesn’t mean I don’t have days of grief, that I don’t miss Mckenna, that I don’t have sad days, because I do, still even after 6 years. Though this peace has been needed for many years, it also reminds me to stay humble because at any given moment it could be taken from me yet again. It is teaching me to not sit around and wait for the ball to drop, but to embrace the moments of joy and pay attention to the moments of sadness and be ok in each and every moment. Self compassion isn’t easy for me as I have many stories I tell myself, but I am being reminded every day that it is ok to feel how I feel without judgment, that if I am sad and miss my daughter I have the right to miss her, and if I am angry (which has been a big emotion lately) that it is deserved that and be ok.
6 years later I can still be back to that day as if it were happening all over again right before my eyes, the difference between now and 6 years ago is that I can sit in that pain and tolerate it better, I can carry it better, I can just be with it and know, trust, that the darkness will fade into light all while knowing the dark will come around again. I have learned that it will go just as quickly as it came, I don’t have to sit in it all the time to feel connected to Mckenna, that joy, tears, laughter can all coexist in the same sentence, and that my love for Mckenna will never end and that means my grief will never end. 

I miss her fiercely, from the depth of my soul, to the tips of my toes.

My dear Mckenna,
I wish I could wrap my arms around you, squeeze you and never let go. I wish I could kiss your face all over and make you laugh, I wish I could hold your hand, I wish I knew what you looked like, I wish, I wish, I wish…..I love you baby girl and miss you so very much. Hope you feel the love today as there are so many who are thinking of you. Sending you big love and big hugs.
Love,

Mommy

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Peace Holds my Heart



The peace that has washed over me is so magical. I feel like a whole new person and it is such a wonderful place to be, and it has been needed for almost 6 years. In the last 6 years I have had nothing but heartache, sadness, pain, hurt, loss, a sense of worthlessness, shame and guilt that controlled my life. I hated my life, I hated me and now I am loving life, I am loving myself, and I am ready for this next chapter in my new book.

 Life happens and it will continue to happen, I will have bad days which I trust will end, I will have good days which I will embrace, I will cry and allow the tears to come, I will feel pain, love, sadness, peace, joy, sorrow and know that each one is just a part of life, my life forever and always.

I have been through a lot in my 30 years of life and this is the first time probably since my dad died that I feel at peace, truly at peace. Possibly my whole life. I love myself enough to become who I am meant. I can carry my grief, I can breathe, and I KNOW I am going to be ok, I trust and for those who have walked this journey with me know what a big deal all of this is.

I have come a long way and seriously curious to see where it all takes me.

Peace is a beautiful feeling that I am fully embracing.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Peace Out PCH...




Now that is has been a couple days since I said goodbye to PCH I figured it was time to express just what it all means to me. I spent three years at PCH. As I look back on the last three years it is hard to believe that I survived it all. When I started at PCH I was terrified. I had some serious doubts in myself and how I was going to walk into the building where Mckenna died every shift, how I was going to be around sick children, broken children, children who are alone, children who are abused, and children Mckenna’s age. I just didn't know how I was going to handle it all and I would be lying if I said it wasn't challenging. It was one of the hardest, most challenging things I have ever done.

 In the beginning I really struggled to work there. I would cry every shift, have flashbacks, I would be distant, closed off, shut down, just to survive the shift, my life, everything. I wanted to quit many times, I would look for jobs and even put in applications but I would never follow through with quitting. I guess it never felt “right”. I wanted it to feel like the right time and no matter how much I complained, something kept me there and I guess I am thankful for that voice that kept me there as long as it did.

After some point, though I can’t pin point when it was, I found a peacefulness working there. I no longer cried going to work, I wouldn’t dread each shift with every ounce of my body, I was more talkative with my coworkers, patients, patients families. At the time I thought this was great, I reached the place I never thought I could or would and it was a great accomplishment. And then my mom died. My mom’s death was devastating to me and I found myself going back to the days from when I first started. The flashbacks started again, I would cry to work every shift, and it would take over half the shift to recover.I recognized that it longer was serving a purpose for me and I was no longer growing and becoming, I was falling and going backwards. I don't use the word hate very often if at all, but I truly began to hate it. Working at PCH, working nights began to take its toll and I knew I needed to quit. It was no longer peaceful, it was torture so I set out on a couple missions which brought me to where I am today.

 My last night was a great night with great people, great nurses, and lots of conversations, laughter and peace with my decision. It was time. I clocked out, said my goodbyes, walked through the old PICU where Mckenna died, down the hall one last time and out the doors feeling free. It was almost euphoric, I was happy, excited and in that moment I knew that I fulfilled my goal and I don’t regret ever working there and I don’t regret waiting to leave and I most definitely don’t regret quitting.

I lost a lot while working at PCH, but I also gained so much. Leaving PCH wasn’t a hard decision. I have seen things that are heartbreaking, sad, amazing, humbling, and unforgettable, but I no longer feel the need to be there and to put myself through what I have when I first started. I want to live life and for Mckenna to be proud of me for challenging myself yet knowing when it was no longer benefiting me. I lost a piece of me the day Mckenna died in that hospital and even though it did not bring her back, it did put together a small piece of my heart with a scar. I will never forget my time at PCH, I will never forget how it forced me to grow, I will never forget the last three years and what they brought me. 


Peace out PCH….

*The* Room Mckenna died in.
 (No patients were on the floor when I took this picture,
the unit was empty)

Friday, June 20, 2014

She wasn't supposed to be with me.....



While I was with a beautiful friend this week I was taken to a place deep within my soul that I have not visited in a long time. It is not easy to visit places that I have not visited in a long time because they are so painful, yet it needs to happen from time to time. Mckenna’s story was the place, the details I don’t share often, the injuries, the images that swirl in my head but are hardly spoken came out as I sat with my beautiful friend. The injuries were discussed in detail and this brought me back to that day as if it was yesterday. The tears started and did not stop for some time as I retold parts of the story, the parts that take my breath away, the parts that should not be a part of my life, the parts that bring me to my knees. My friend asked me as I am sharing a painful part of the story, “did anyone ever say I’m sorry to you,” and this has stayed with me all week. For years I have placed the blame solely on myself. From the moment of the accident I was saying I’m sorry to everyone. I’m sorry I took your daughter, granddaughter, niece, cousin away from you, I’m sorry I moved the tv, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…..But not once did I hear I’m sorry from the people that were a part of that day. The people who chose to not watch her because they were going Christmas shopping, the person who wanted to “sleep in,” the people who were supposed to have her any way….

I have replayed that day over and over in my head for almost 6 years now and each time I share those details it always ends with, yeah well I’m the one who moved the tv so none of that really matters. Well in reality it does matter. I do not place blame on them and that is not what this is about, it is about being angry. I have never been angry towards the other people involved that dreadful day, but it seems to be creeping up at times. Angry for how I was treated, angry for being lead on by my ex, angry for never hearing the words I’m sorry from them and the role they played that day.

What I keep hearing is, she wasn’t supposed to be with me that day, she WASN’T supposed to be with ME…..I will always blame myself, I will never forgive myself, I will always take responsibility, but sometimes I get angry at the other people involved that day. I think I have the right every now and then….


I am thankful for those in my life willing to sit with that story and allow me to tell it from time to time. Lots of tears were shed as I remembered that time in my life, tears that deserve to be shed because Mckenna is worth every tear, every sob, and every heartache.

Friday, May 9, 2014

Tough Mother's Day...



Mothers day has been a tough holiday for many years. Even before I lost my daughter and my mom it was always hard.

Mothers day can be difficult when you grow up with an alcoholic. I often stood in the card section with tears in my eyes because none of the cards fit our relationship. “You’re an amazing mother”, “you have always been there for me,” “you’re the best mom in the world” didn't exactly speak to our relationship. At the time I held so much anger towards my mother for choosing alcohol over her children, over herself. For years that anger made me distant and eventually making the decision to take a step back and love her from afar. I still called her, checked on her, but was cold and distant in order to protect myself. I could no longer stand there and watch her “kill” herself with alcohol. Doing this came with a price, it meant I closed off my heart, my love for her because I couldn’t think about losing her and thought that in doing this losing her would not be so hard. Then…

 A few short months later I found her lifeless in her bed and all those feelings were gone. The alcohol didn't matter, the anger went away as if it never existed, all I wanted in that moment was for her to be alive. My fear became a reality and I sat there one last time with her telling her just how sorry I was for failing her, for not being the daughter she wished I could have been.

In the time since my mothers death I have discovered the pain, the heartache, the hurt, the loneliness, and the sadness that she carried with her. The beautiful person and human being she was, and what I would give to have her back. I hate that death made me see my mom, truly see her and that I will never get the chance to make things right.

I knew my mom and I loved her so deeply that her death has really affected me the shoulda, coulda woulda’s haunt me. I couldn’t save her and I live with guilt every day.

This mothers day is double hard as I will not get showered with gifts, homemade cards, hugs and kisses from my should be 6 year old daughter, and I will not get to show my mom the love I have for her, give her a homemade card and give her hugs and kisses. Being a daughterless mother and a motherless daughter I hurt deep in my soul.


 I miss my Mckenna and I miss my mom. Mother's day is hard when you're a bereaved mom and a motherless daughter.