tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55820152651145136942024-02-13T13:04:42.770-08:00Ladybug LandingLife as it HappensAshleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.comBlogger93125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-54091127150792504252024-01-03T09:35:00.000-08:002024-01-03T15:30:47.879-08:0012 Things I've Learned (so far) Since Becoming a Mama Again<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWKiCXfOHuMHE5bmzUM5CkUIAWoKxftr_klpQauBuTHv8x-9nMHGRdlnVIpVJNayNsZl2y4_icadYFnE5WdCZSIp71M-xtl1E_k5diXHVh67Z5YbZ5L7UX5OGpoPTgT9BmNLua4aO4OvCMot0oRcL6KNhHKdByH2QO0h8A9HL94iKdGgy0YfJj8bQ-ngf/s736/Inspiring%20Quotes%20for%20Motherhood%20%E2%80%94%20Well-Rooted%20Motherhood.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="736" data-original-width="736" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWKiCXfOHuMHE5bmzUM5CkUIAWoKxftr_klpQauBuTHv8x-9nMHGRdlnVIpVJNayNsZl2y4_icadYFnE5WdCZSIp71M-xtl1E_k5diXHVh67Z5YbZ5L7UX5OGpoPTgT9BmNLua4aO4OvCMot0oRcL6KNhHKdByH2QO0h8A9HL94iKdGgy0YfJj8bQ-ngf/s320/Inspiring%20Quotes%20for%20Motherhood%20%E2%80%94%20Well-Rooted%20Motherhood.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>It's been one year since becoming a mother again. A mother to a living child and what a year it's been. I never thought I would get the chance to be a mom again. I honestly thought we would be childless and look at Emerson almost daily and think, I can't believe we have a child. Emerson has been such a gift. He brings so much light into my world. I have grown and learned so much since he was born. It's been a year of a lot of growth, trial and error, figuring out what works for me as a mom and how I want to mother. Thought I would share 12 things I have learned this year with my sweet boy. In no particular order....</p><p>1. You can plan and have all the ideas of how you want things to go but those plans don't always go the way you had hoped and you sometimes have to pivot from the plan and learn what works and that's OK. </p><p>2. No two babies are the same so no two ways work the same for one child as it did for another. </p><p>3. Society "norms" can shove it where the sun don't shine. Why I listened to those and not go with my mama gut and heart when I had Mckenna breaks my heart. I didn't want to "spoil" so I would do things that went against what felt right. You can't spoil a baby. They need comfort, reassurance, responsiveness. Sometimes that means you have to figure out what works for you safely because it's not a one size fits all mentality. </p><p>4. Mindset was a game changer. I was so focused on the voice in my head that said I am supposed to be doing things this way because that's what "they" say. When I finally focused on Emerson will figure things out and I will support him in his time it changed everything. I am privileged to rock him to sleep at night and during his naps. He feeds to sleep, I sometimes will lay in his crib with him until he falls asleep because that is what he needs. What he needs may be different than my plan and that's ok. Sometimes it takes a long time to get him to bed at night but I get to lay with him until he falls asleep and what a gift that is. I know he will always be changing and needing new things in different ways but no matter what I will support him in the ways he needs. </p><p>5. The house work will get done eventually. I don't want his naps to always be filled with the things I "need" to get done while he is asleep because I need down time too. I have created a cleaning schedule that works for me and if something doesn't get done that week it will the following week and I don't stress about it. Time with Emerson is more important. Some days he is more needy and doesn't want to be far from me or wants me to hold him and I am not the master of doing everything one handed. I have become much more slack about the house as it's not the most important thing. </p><p>6. I am blessed with an amazing partner. What a difference it makes when you have a partner who is supportive, hands on, does his part to help the household. I feel so lucky to have a wonderful husband this time around. </p><p>7. I am more sensitive to children dying. Might sound weird since it's not like I wasn't sensitive before, it's just harder for me emotionally when I hear about it or see it. My mama heart was broken open again and my empathy is stronger. I can feel it deeply when I see a child who died. It's hard to articulate. </p><p>8. I care less about what people think because in the end it doesn't matter. My family may do something differently and that's ok. The way we parent is what works for us and we don't have room in our lives for judgmental people. </p><p>9. I want to protect Emerson from social media. I don't want to post information about him or share his picture because it is becoming a scary world out there and his digital footprint is important. I don't want him to look back one day and see all this information I posted about him that he did not give permission to share. </p><p>10. Grief can change when you welcome a new baby. Emerson has brought so much healing to my heart. My world is not consumed with grief, loss and sadness. It comes when it needs to and I of course still feel it and have moments but it's not all consuming. I share Mckenna with Emerson and his face lights up when he looks at her picture. What a different world it is to not be consumed with grief. </p><p>11. It has opened my eyes to who I am as a human and how I want to show up in the world. Emerson is my world and I had 38 years of life before him, so my time with him now is more important. I don't feel like I have lost myself but more I have found myself because being his mama is everything to me. </p><p>12. One of the biggest things I have learned and I am grateful for is to not wish things away. To honestly cherish the moment. I have enjoyed all the stages and I don't say "I can't wait for him to XYZ". He is growing so fast and all the things of babyhood and toddlerhood are such a blip in time. I take him in. Of course there are tough times but even in those moments I remind myself that this too will pass and won't be like this forever. That is a gift Mckenna gave me. </p><p>Motherhood is amazing for me. When he only wants mama and puts his little head on my shoulder all is right in the world. I am lucky to have this chance and lucky I get to tuck him safely in bed. He's healthy and full of life. I also know it is ever changing, he is ever changing but I hope he continues to have his sweet disposition. My time and energy is spent at home with my family where it should be. </p>Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-774931277810214922023-06-18T17:27:00.003-07:002023-10-24T15:19:42.492-07:0010 Years Without You Mom....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0EVdXbsqizhaEzHwF_tepoK7Yc0R-ZtkVdVjHq1bHiocYygZwX_R0nuL3yEgjKvp6h5FJUGoD0sLxojvHnCrqaM6OYI1znTDpJK9FRl9m5nc4jzsIKyzSkCzCClC7NkfaIohNXaImItgFvgwT1KAlLGMkz4N93EiEuqKH3G-jLl-20qTitG2QDz0fg/s1135/Scan0093.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="753" data-original-width="1135" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY0EVdXbsqizhaEzHwF_tepoK7Yc0R-ZtkVdVjHq1bHiocYygZwX_R0nuL3yEgjKvp6h5FJUGoD0sLxojvHnCrqaM6OYI1znTDpJK9FRl9m5nc4jzsIKyzSkCzCClC7NkfaIohNXaImItgFvgwT1KAlLGMkz4N93EiEuqKH3G-jLl-20qTitG2QDz0fg/s320/Scan0093.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>10 years ago today, I experienced the second worst day of my life. I found my mother dead in her bed. Even 10 years later, when I say those words it takes my breath away. I know it's not a very delicate way to say it but it's the truth. I don't relive every detail like I did for many years. For years, following her death, I couldn't get those images out of my head. Every detail from the moment I unlocked the door, to the funeral home taking her away. Each moment played out often. What an absolutely awful day it was. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZEz6kFYSldAlM8UBPcAg71pHeoeIpnUWrp0a8-asoXd_5HDF7Rzc4qlcoxlgQ2unbv0gaaKi0L7NaTeP6LW0oFPwi7Yy9VYm1vb9pI_vbCS_lK0NbvBWVS3Oo82LmCE_aki9g1amre6vt46mxWsFu6A74CQZ23SCx2yEOONms_YTgrh2lADXccg9hBQ/s1945/Scan0134.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1945" data-original-width="1533" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZEz6kFYSldAlM8UBPcAg71pHeoeIpnUWrp0a8-asoXd_5HDF7Rzc4qlcoxlgQ2unbv0gaaKi0L7NaTeP6LW0oFPwi7Yy9VYm1vb9pI_vbCS_lK0NbvBWVS3Oo82LmCE_aki9g1amre6vt46mxWsFu6A74CQZ23SCx2yEOONms_YTgrh2lADXccg9hBQ/s320/Scan0134.jpg" width="252" /></a></div><p>The days leading up to her death also haunted me. I always felt I didn't do enough. She died sad and alone in an apt that was horrible. I had reached a point in her alcoholism of distancing myself. I couldn't handle the heartache and the broken promises and the constantly finding her drunk and the drunk phone calls. I distanced myself and she died. The what if's, the shoulda, coulda, woulda's were ruthless. I still hear her voice the last time I saw her alive. "Ashley, will you just hug me, please just hug me." I hugged her and walked away knowing something was wrong but excusing it as she's drunk. I remember seeing how she was laying on the bed in a weird position. A position she had never laid in before. I stood there staring at her confused because she looked different. Even in her drunken state that I was familiar with was different. A few days later, I again stood in the same spot staring at her in the dark, however that time she was not alive. My brain could not compute why she wasn't waking up because she was a light sleeper. Did I think she had died, no. I see it all in slow mode as I moved my eyes up her body and my trauma brain took over knowing something wasn't right. I don't wish finding a loved one dead on anyone. </p><p>As I write this, I am brought back to those moments and feelings and it still breaks my heart. My mom deserved so much more than to die in a shitty apt, alone, sad and lonely. I know now that I really couldn't save her. She had to do that on her own but I still feel that I could have had more compassion for her while she was alive. The compassion that I now have because I see beyond the alcoholism. I see the human that she was. I have often said that I would have given anything to just have her back. I would take the alcoholic back but in reality having a parent or loved who is an addict is one of the most challenging and relentless relationships. Day in and day out you worry, have intrusive thoughts of them dying, feeling guilty for not doing something for them out of fear they will die. Them making you feel like a horrible person for not doing something for them or giving money or paying a bill. I could never walk away completely. I feel deep down I always saw the person she was under all the pain. The human she wanted to be and fought to be but just couldn't get past the negative voice in her head telling her the opposite of who she was. Couldn't get past the people who had harmed her in ways that no one should be harmed. I wish I could sit down with her today and get to know her. Hear her story. She was Mitzi before she was mom. She had hopes and dreams. Hear about her marriage with my dad. Her pregnancies and what it was like to bring us into the world. Did she have the same thoughts and worries about being a new mom as parents these days. What was the newborn stage like for her. I guess I want to more now about her being a new mom since I am a new mom again. But also learn more about the years before children. What made her who she was in her beginning years. Not just the trauma but the joy too. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHT62LSq5ECkl7P3Sbf3F8UAOEZT14C-exPbATZxMmYldjNpybzFXAW5eyg5Vhvm-OIWR-5-EL4L4o4hkSe4VuWochID8W4u7bVoQYs5JbODB-Ng0raoeXJmrkKAwmlQRIa3ljKPf-sAw2P7Lsow7cPpm-TD2XldijhbCIvFVkKTMXIS5k2jBB58W-Q/s1007/Scan0107.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="662" data-original-width="1007" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLHT62LSq5ECkl7P3Sbf3F8UAOEZT14C-exPbATZxMmYldjNpybzFXAW5eyg5Vhvm-OIWR-5-EL4L4o4hkSe4VuWochID8W4u7bVoQYs5JbODB-Ng0raoeXJmrkKAwmlQRIa3ljKPf-sAw2P7Lsow7cPpm-TD2XldijhbCIvFVkKTMXIS5k2jBB58W-Q/s320/Scan0107.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I feel maybe I still hold onto more responsibility of her life and death than I should but it doesn't consume me like it once did. I can think of these memories and I am not taken down into the dark place I used to go. I honor her and remember her today. The day that change me as a human, again. She is a big reason I am who I am. Her life and her death shaped me. While I wish it wasn't a part of my story, it is and I have learned to carry it in a way that I never thought I could 10 years ago. </p><p><br /></p><p>Mom, you have missed out on so much these past 10 years. The sober mom is who I miss and wish I had around. I wish Emerson had his Nona around. He does not have grandparents on my side and that makes me sad. I miss you and your laugh. The way I could make you laugh brings a smile to my face. Your heart was big and you had a deep love for people. You were artistic and had such a talent for multiple different things. You were thoughtful and wanted to help others. You were smart, fun, compassionate, loving, funny. Your story was cut short by a disease that robbed you of joy and all that life had to offer. I see you, it's a little too late but I see you. I love you mom, more than even I ever knew. Our connection was deep. You were a good mom who had flaws. Thank you for loving me the best way you knew how. Never questioned your love for me. </p>Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-80159766442897614012023-05-05T20:43:00.001-07:002023-05-05T20:43:36.855-07:00Being a Mom Again...<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLdMxGmMsqKnZDa9K9wLB_jjJy1eisOOLcP8HJRePM8FE-QJJk5rFkiQzA7SWE-8y-83agcmcp5rFjLgnYtgYSAMdAa9BknOwyh0WJSH5QRlbTQHVLjieaovjW9j_OXU5PrziBXLoRCsoTrDGX36JOj5akzS4JRbkLoCOUHmNT6U69C0Q3SRCNeBninQ/s883/50+%20Strong%20Mom%20Quotes%20-%20Because%20Moms%20are%20Badasses!.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="883" data-original-width="690" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLdMxGmMsqKnZDa9K9wLB_jjJy1eisOOLcP8HJRePM8FE-QJJk5rFkiQzA7SWE-8y-83agcmcp5rFjLgnYtgYSAMdAa9BknOwyh0WJSH5QRlbTQHVLjieaovjW9j_OXU5PrziBXLoRCsoTrDGX36JOj5akzS4JRbkLoCOUHmNT6U69C0Q3SRCNeBninQ/s320/50+%20Strong%20Mom%20Quotes%20-%20Because%20Moms%20are%20Badasses!.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div>I miss writing and said last year that I would start writing more and it never happened so I gave up my other blog because it was costing me money and since I didn't use it I wasted money. So back to my old blog it is. <div><br /></div><div>I am now 5 months into being a mom again and boy has it been interesting. I thought I remembered so much about Mckenna's life, but as it turns out I don't. I don't remember these early months and especially the newborn stage. I guess sleep deprivation might have something to do with that. I feel I am doing things differently this time around and on one hand that is wonderful but on the other it makes me kind of sad knowing I am parenting differently because of my life experience. Mckenna had the young naive mom who went with societal "norms". I must admit that social media has made me feel worse about how I want to parent because it feels like it's the "wrong" way. I didn't have that influence with Mckenna but still must have felt it on some level because I remember not wanting to "spoil" her by holding her too much or giving in so easily to her needs (tears). This time around I am doing what feels natural. I let him nap on me 9 times out of 10, I safely bed share when needed (though he sleeps in his pack in play at night most of the night), I pick him up when he cries. I think parents need to do what they need to do but I wanted to do things differently than what has become the "norm". I have started following this mom on IG who has brought me such peace because she educates on what is biologically normal for babies and children. It is biologically normal for a baby to want to be near their mom and the mom to want to be near her baby. It is biologically normal for a baby to wake up frequently and need to be held/fed. To be close while sleeping, to be rocked to sleep, to feed to sleep. Temperament matters and it's not one size fits all approach. I will not be sleep training Emerson. I cannot handle the cry it out method on any level and it does not feel right for me. The more I learn about how it affects their little brains the more convinced I am that I am doing what is best for me and Emerson. Her name is Rachel and her IG name is Heysleepybaby if you find yourself wanting to do things a little different and need some guidance on ways to help your baby sleep but in a very gentle way. I feel providing eduction and allowing people to take what works for them and leave the rest is better than just providing one way because "society" tells you that's the way to do it. </div><div><br /></div><div>As a new mom again, my social media feed was filled with sleep training posts and people posting all the schedules and ways they got their baby to sleep and self soothe so young. I was feeling like I was doing something wrong and also going against my instincts and mama gut (GRRR). That is great if that works for you but not everyone can live that way and I wasn't seeing a whole lot of alternatives. Once I started to see an alternative that felt right in my soul, I was relieved. Parenting is hard and you have to make decision after decision and hope those decisions don't cause harm. Emerson will figure it out and one day he won't need me to nap, won't wake up in the middle of the night and will sleep through the night in his time. I am here to be his safe place, his reassurance, his security. I am finding more and more moms who follow what feels right for me. If you're interested in more info, here is one of the moms I found. </div><div><br /></div><div>https://raisedgood.com/sleep-through-night-self-soothing-good-babies-stop-setting-mothers-to-fail/ </div><div><br /></div><div>On the hard days I remind myself that this won't last forever. It goes by so fast. He's a baby and needs me in ways he won't one day. The baby snuggles won't last. I am blessed enough to get this time with him. He is reminding me that there is life out there to show him and makes me want to be a better mom, wife, human. I love my little family. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div>Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-18227420417275246952022-01-03T14:14:00.000-08:002022-01-03T14:14:32.140-08:00Learning to Let Go
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEidBEtH8f42SwLFyeIcxJdGm8ExfugUt_F-qMucb1aC041-A_w72SdmEGokZ3ZWTso2_rBqtVBjOo2SHLWs8c3KhhMJO9e3up_ug4Bz0pDW9BAeAPc_FdAydCMw-CnnVNal-e0rSMcuy6BIyo4LFUwQI3P89P6o7qz_gD_K9HgLLHz2IXjd0rnF259SYQ=s376" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="376" data-original-width="376" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEidBEtH8f42SwLFyeIcxJdGm8ExfugUt_F-qMucb1aC041-A_w72SdmEGokZ3ZWTso2_rBqtVBjOo2SHLWs8c3KhhMJO9e3up_ug4Bz0pDW9BAeAPc_FdAydCMw-CnnVNal-e0rSMcuy6BIyo4LFUwQI3P89P6o7qz_gD_K9HgLLHz2IXjd0rnF259SYQ=s320" width="320" /></a></div>
I started this blog 11 years ago! I would love to get back to writing more. Used to love to write and express my thoughts, emotions and life experiences. It’s very vulnerable to do this type of writing but one of the things I am working on personally is letting go of what others think about me. One of the quotes I heard from AA is "what other people think of me is none of my business." It’s not easy but necessary for my mental health. <div><br /></div><div> I wrote down some intentions for 2022 and Matt pointed out to me that what I put down aren’t exactly measurable. So, I had to think deeply about what those intentions looked like. One of the intentions was to learn to let go. Since that one is not measurable, thought I would share why it’s on my list. </div><div><br /></div><div> I have a tendency of holding onto what others may think about me, the person they think I am and my intentions. The key word is may think of me. I assume a lot and that gets me into trouble with my thoughts. I get in my head and my thoughts get consumed and obsessed with my assumptions. I have always been the type to hate when someone doesn’t like me. I always feel I have done something wrong, said something wrong and can’t let it go. It is especially painful when I have done something and there is no fixing it. How do you let go when there is no resolve? How do you move forward when you know how someone feels about you and it’s nothing but hate? That is why it’s an intention. It is out of my control and none of my business. What is my business is learning and growing so I am a better human. What is my business is knowing who I am and believing it. What is my business is my family and what I bring to their life. Allowing others to make me not want to live because I feel I am a horrible person needs to be a thing of the past. I am very emotional and sensitive so it makes it challenging to stand in my truth and let things roll off my back. But if I do not learn this huge lesson I will never fully grow. </div><div><br /></div><div> 2021 was a year of a lot of challenges and loss. Loss of Ellis and another pregnancy, loss of a friend, loss of our sweet Vander. I have had worse years in my life but last year proved to me the kind of person I am growing to be. I never want to get bitter, angry, distant, mean by what life tends to throw at me. I want each experience to shape me to be more compassionate, empathetic, kind, generous. Mostly to be kind and compassionate to myself. And that begins with letting go and remembering what others think of me is none of my business. Here is to a healthier version of who I am. </div><div><br /></div><div> What are some intentions you made for yourself in the new year?
</div>Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-18451004137196931852020-09-27T16:11:00.001-07:002020-09-27T16:11:31.798-07:0012 Long Years Without You<p><span style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6xGPgpcn3rRJyfzPtSjYpU330KxgpbWNUHbdFidmuGnnC1OePinumzlP7DlO7ogj7Q6jh3599wfY5B1xJHQxHSKhi4D6OeAfLO9g6izMNt20NjLEpgFn54DHIzr4T-VoNMpE6cOVZ-Zla/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="236" data-original-width="236" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6xGPgpcn3rRJyfzPtSjYpU330KxgpbWNUHbdFidmuGnnC1OePinumzlP7DlO7ogj7Q6jh3599wfY5B1xJHQxHSKhi4D6OeAfLO9g6izMNt20NjLEpgFn54DHIzr4T-VoNMpE6cOVZ-Zla/" width="240" /></a></div><br /><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">It has been 12 years since my heart shattered in a million pieces. 12 years since I last held, kissed, and loved on my daughter. In these 12 years I have been to the bottom of a dark hole clawing my way out, to the peak of joy holding onto the light. I never thought I would ever survive her loss. I wanted to die more times than not. I wanted her back so desperately I got lost in the dark for many years. It took time but I have found my way to the light and more days than not are filled with light, joy, laughter and love. Dark days still come and I ache for my daughter, I long for her and desperately want her back, but I have learned to sit in those days and allow grief to wash over me because it’s the love that washes over me too. I honestly welcome those days because in a weird way it’s the days I feel closest to her. Grief is always and forever changing but one thing remains the same and that is love. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">It is the first year I have not done a big red and black day. I did not feel the need to but have to admit it was a bittersweet moment after going through all my FB memories filled with all the red and black days and how special they were. In some ways it makes me feel like everyone will forget her if I don't continue to share her and her story. Share her days publicly since it is what I have done for 12 years. Will people remember her? It is my job as her mom to keep her memory alive so if I don't share publicly do I love her less? Why do I feel the need to share publicly still after 12 years?These are the questions that fill my mind as I process not doing a red and black day. Judging myself for not posting and judging myself for posting. <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">Nevertheless, today was special and filled with love even without "red and black day". I had friends who honored and remembered her. Texts, love, thoughts truly mean more than anyone can know. My amazing husband started my day with a beautiful hand written card. We shared space with friends for breakfast who we have not seen since January. Spent time at the cemetary and ended the day with a friend who is family. I truly am blessed with some beautiful souls in my life and wouldn’t know how I would have survived these years without them.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">It’s been 12 years and frankly that is a long time. My heart misses her and I wish so much that this day was not the day I lost the love of my life and it was just another day. Grief changes and this is the year that it may become more private and I guess that is ok…<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><o:p> </o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDq7pFQ1MyIVRU60rb3pJzAvugmwBqFkCqqELM2q1A5botSsfNueqyhp-QEaXisJzx1l1D7De1R166ol6iQuf3JbMv2EKYx24usMJtqK_7Ry8HaWLmG0RVIFNn3b4nw46J2X1L2uAWvxM/s1035/189401715005_1411045888_30220407_0070.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1035" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjDq7pFQ1MyIVRU60rb3pJzAvugmwBqFkCqqELM2q1A5botSsfNueqyhp-QEaXisJzx1l1D7De1R166ol6iQuf3JbMv2EKYx24usMJtqK_7Ry8HaWLmG0RVIFNn3b4nw46J2X1L2uAWvxM/s320/189401715005_1411045888_30220407_0070.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I miss you and I love you my sweet baby girl.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Mckenna Jodell</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">12/27/07-12/27/08</div><br /> <o:p></o:p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><o:p></o:p><p></p>Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-54492299993035037112019-06-06T12:18:00.000-07:002019-06-06T12:18:55.183-07:00This is 35....<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
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Birthdays are for reflection of the years that have come and gone. It’s about seeing the person you have grown to be thus far. It’s a day to see your soul as it is and just be with where you are in this moment in time. <o:p></o:p></div>
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35 years old today! Being 35 is a big deal in my world. As I have been reflecting and thinking of my years that have come and gone, It feels like it has been a blink of an eye and yet also has moved at snails speed. I feel I have lived a lifetime in my 35 years. For many, many years my birthday was hard to celebrate. It was often met with pain at the death of my father the day before my birthday and my mother shortly after my birthday. As time has gone on, I am now able to celebrate the day I was brought into this world. It’s incredibily special to be celebrated by those who love you and are glad you were born. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I grow every day and I learn more about the person I am and the person I want to be. I have spent the last almost 11 years since Mckenna’s death painfully searching for me. The person I want to be merging with the person I already am at my core. It is not easy to look in the mirror at some of your personality traits, how you act or react, your core human characteristics, but there is always room to continue to grow and change. I am always wanting to be the best version of myself. I am not good at it 100% of the time, but I learn from my mistakes and I try and do better always. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I am loving my soul more and more the older I get. I know deep at my core I am a good human being with a huge heart, empathy for all beings, love, kindness and compassion. I have become more accepting of who I am, the good, the bad and the ugly. I correct myself when needed, I apologize when I have been wrong or hurt someone, I love with everything I have and hope those that I love know what they mean to me. I have grown to accept my body, my looks and style. I do my best to not compare myself to others (which I am still working on). I am learning to stand up for what I want or don’t want. All of this comes with age and experience. It will continue to evolve and change over time, but right now it feels pretty darn good to feel good in my skin. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Since turning 30, my life has taken a huge turn. I am going to be married soon and build a life and family with an amazing man who loves me for me. He has brought such light to my life. A light I never ever thought I would find. I am no long submerged in the dark trying to claw my way out. I am comfortably in the dark and in the light. I can be in both and embrace what they both mean. The dark no longer scares me because I know when it comes, his light will bring me out when I am ready. It continues to take practice to be happy. Which may sound strange to some but when you have been through years of trauma, pain, heartache it becomes your normal. It becomes the biggest part of your life. For me, that is no longer the case. It is a part of who I am, but not the only part. It is easy to always wait for the next shoe to drop and live in constant fear for the next death or traumatic experience. It causes you lose sight of the present and life as it is in this moment. It will happen again and I don’t know how I will react, but I will have someone by my side and me by his and we will get through it together. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Here’s to turning 35. This will be a HUGE year with so many amazing things to come. <o:p></o:p></div>
Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-46997653831806096302017-11-19T18:31:00.000-08:002017-11-19T18:36:00.953-08:00Closing the Book of my Childhood...<br />
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Growing up I went to my Nana and Papa's house frequently. She would keep us weeks at a time in the summers. Nana was for a grandmother but also didn't take any back talk or attitude. When I was 10 years old, I moved in with Nana and Papa. My room was downstairs, without a door and had the washer and dryer in the room. Eventually they put on saloon like doors for a little privacy. I lived there until I turned 13. Big years living with your grandparents. Vital years really, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. I always felt connected to my Nana. We were a lot a like. I still wonder what she would think of me now and how I turned out.<span id="goog_1586427271"></span><br />
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I would help around the property, help plant cactus (and laugh hysterically together after because we were so sweaty and gross), helped feed the animals, water the trees, water the plants, ride my bike all the time. I actually played out doors every day. Sometimes I was allowed to eat ice cream for dinner when no one wanted to cook.<br />
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My Papa was my alarm clock. He would wake me up every morning for school. He would drive me to the bus stop and wait with me until it came. He would take me to my dentist appointments. He would make fires in the fireplace, always made the best fires. I would call them Papa fires. He would make breakfast. My favorite was always his biscuits and gravy (prior to my vegetarian lifestyle). When my mom was visiting, we would end up in Nana and Papa's bed talking, laughing, requesting Papa to bring us our coffee (in a whiny voice) and sure enough he would deliver.<br />
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Their house was home. For 33 years I have been going down to their property that I still refer to as Nana and Papa's and very soon it will no longer be a part of my life. I had never imagined not ever going down there. Losing my Papa recently has opened to the door to the reality of losing a piece of my childhood. Closing the door to a huge part of my past that connects me to everyone I have lost. It's a big deal for the whole family. We all have a connection to that property. We all have our own memories, our own stories, our own history with the property. I am going to miss my Papa and I am going to miss the house. Never easy saying goodbye....<br />
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<br />Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-8333602638603519972017-09-24T10:09:00.001-07:002017-09-24T10:09:17.194-07:00Fight for Your Healing<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: initial; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not long ago one of my soul sister friends said to me, fight for your healing. This has been weighing heavy on my heart lately because I have not been fighting for my healing. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Those who know me very well know that I am kind of a melancholy person. I have always been this way even as a child. I guess maybe I was born this way and when you are born with a certain personality trait it is hard to be anything else. I may not be able to fully get rid of the inner melancholy but I can at least try and find things that bring me out of my shell, things that make me laugh, things that require me to step outside of my comfort zone. Sitting in my room by myself all the time is not healthy (yes I still do this). </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Darkness continues to fall upon me more often than not. The older I get the harder it is to wade through the dark to find the light. I try and allow it to come and go but when it comes so frequently I become discouraged and disappointed in myself causing the cycle of self loathing. Living life isn’t easy for someone like me. Something has to change but I know I am the only one who can make those changes. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The questions that go through my mind are, where do I begin when it feels so overwhelming? How do I allow myself to be completely vulnerable without fear taking over? How do I get the life I envision when darkness seems to be so powerful? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am not getting any younger and life is passing me by. Fear holds me back and that fear is holding me back from truly living. With all the experience and personal knowledge of how short life is, you would think this human experience wouldn’t be such a struggle. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm sure I have been on this quest before and have written about it but maybe now I am ready to try harder to live life and fight for my healing. I need to do something or else the darkness may take over and I won’t come out the other side….here's to fighting for my healing.</span></span></div>
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Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-90839072779020809882017-06-18T06:01:00.001-07:002017-06-18T07:28:05.808-07:004 Years Ago <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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On this day 4 years ago I found my mom dead in her bed. Over the years I have expressed what that moment felt like and still 4 years later there are no words to adequately put to words what that moment was like. I am not sure how it has been 4 years already and I miss her just as much now as I did the day I found her. The grief has shifted and I am able to carry it differently but I still miss her.</div>
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4 years ago I was angry with her. Alcoholism is a hard disease to manage when it has consumed one of the most important people in your life. I lost my mom before she died. I lost the mom I knew she was deep inside that dark hell she lived in. I couldn’t save her. It has taken a long time for me to process her death and her life. I couldn’t save her because I was her daughter and she needed to be able to save herself. But I tried my hardest to save her, or I thought I tried my hardest. I still feel I am not able to forgive myself for walking away from her a few days before she died. Walking away angry. Imaging those last days of her life can still bring me to my knees and I don’t think of those days often.</div>
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My mom was so loving and compassionate. Her smile and laugh were contagious. My mom raised 2 children who turned out to be amazing human beings. My mom was a fighter. My mom loved deeply and her children/grandchildren were her life. My mom was beautiful, smart, caring, adventurous, giving, vivacious and so many other things that I wish I embraced when she were alive.</div>
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I miss her calls, I miss her voice, I miss her presence on this earth but I also know that she is guiding me along the way. Working with Mckenna to ensure that I follow the right path. I would give anything to have one more conversation, phone call, visit with her but that is not possible anymore. I wish she was here because life can be lonely without the ones you love. 4 years seems impossible.</div>
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I love and miss you mom with all of my heart and soul. </div>
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Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-60947354086924908792017-01-20T20:07:00.000-08:002017-01-20T20:07:20.938-08:00Sudden Memories of Moments in Time<br />
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I usually use this blog for moments of growth and reflection. Tonight I want to share a moment of grief that caught me off guard. A moment that took my breath away. I was driving home tonight and I was thinking about random things and had the thought of fire fighters and paramedics and what they see in their careers which lead to the memory that took my breath.<br />
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Over the years and especially in the beginning of this journey I needed to know every detail of the day Mckenna died. I wanted to hear from others that were involved that day, I wanted to hear their stories. I was given the opportunity to speak with the paramedic and EMT. It's actually a really neat story of how it happened but that may be a story for another time. The moment that I was remembering tonight was from the EMT. When I called 911 I was so hysterical that they could not understand what I was saying so they automatically dispatched a code but they did not say if it was an adult or child. The EMT shared that when he walked in and saw Mckenna's little body on the ground it stopped him in his tracks because he wasn't expecting a baby. He said he had a baby at home.I was imagining what that must have felt like and my heart dropped. I remember standing there and I couldn't even see Mckenna. She was surrounded by these fire fighters and paramedics. I was standing there watching them frantically try and stabilize my sweet baby girl. I stood there in shock as the police were talking to me and I was on the phone sobbing saying, oh my god what have I done, I killed my baby over and over. I was imagining the feeling of this young EMT as he walked in a home where he was expecting to help save an adult but instead an infant was laying there lifeless. He said that the fire chief had to snap him out of it for him to do his job. I remember getting into the passenger seat of the ambulance looking over and he had this terrified look on his face and did not say two words to me. I believe he knew what the outcome was going to be and he could not face the mother of the baby he just tried to save but knew would not live.<br />
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Meeting those men and hearing their stories of the worst day of my life has always been a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I was able to thank them for working so hard to save Mckenna and a curse because I heard things I could not unhear.<br />
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Since I was on the Crisis Response Team I have an understanding of what fire fighters and paramedics see on a regular basis. The horrific scenes that you can't unsee. They do not realize the impact they have on the families they interact with and the lasting impressions they give. I did not interact with them much, but I will forever and always be thankful that they fought for Mckenna to live and when they heard she died they were devastated.<br />
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My poor baby girl, my sweet baby girl. So many memories pop into my head but that is the first time I put myself in that EMT's shoes. They have a tough job and they said they will never forget Mckenna. I will never forget them either.<br />
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I have been missing Mckenna and can feel the build up of grief. This brought me to tears as I remembered this moment. My baby girl died and there are days that I still can't believe that she's gone...Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-31044104383633317262017-01-13T06:18:00.002-08:002017-01-13T06:18:42.306-08:00Life, Reflecting and Loving Myself<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I may have been built from the fire but I was also lost in the fire</span>. </div>
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I have been reflecting a lot on my life and where I am today. A few months back I wanted to join the Glendale Fire Crisis Response team again. I felt I was ready to do what I feel I am meant to be doing. I was finally able to do the ride along in Dec and it felt good to be back on the van. I knew it would be a different experience this time around. As an intern it almost killed me (literally). I had the interview and I was picked to join the team again. Again it felt right and felt like “home” to be at the fire station and being part of the team again. They have training classes and in one of the classes I was drowning in memories. Personally I have had the crisis response team show up for 3 different family members and all very traumatic circumstances. I was drowning in the memories of the calls I went on as an intern. All 8 hours of the class I was trying to swim through the memories without them taking me down.</div>
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I sat with this for a long time. I took time to reflect on my life and especially the time I was previously on the team. How I survived that time in my life I will never know but I did. I was working at PCH full time on the night shift. I worked Fri, Sat, Sun. I had classes Tues and Thurs and internship Tues night to Wed night. On top of all that I was dealing with my mom and her drinking was getting worse and worse. Exhausted was an understatement. I was lost and felt broken but I kept pushing through. I lost my brother and my mother right after my internship with the CR team. That was the second worst year of my life. The rest of that year was awful and I had come to realize that I am not superwoman and had to realize that I could no longer push through my pain because it was catching up to me. It was time to face the pain I was punishing myself for and the added pain of continued losses.</div>
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Looking back I can now see that I really was trying to punish myself for what I was responsible for, responsible for taking my daughter’s life. Accident or not I was responsible and that is how I handled it. I put myself in the fire. I chose to go into the fire over and over. I chose to go the most painful route because that is what I deserved, if you accidently kill your daughter you deserve to be in pain forever. It all felt right at the time and honestly if I didn’t go that route I may not have become who I am today.</div>
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Time after time the fire became what I was used to. The fire was my punishment. As I reflected on this over the week I came to realize that I no longer feel the need to put myself in the fire. I no longer feel the need to cause mental and emotional trauma to myself. Do I love the work that took me down this path, yes, I just don’t need to ALWAYS put myself in situations that cause me pain. Would it be different if I wasn’t so personally affected by the CR team, probably but I am personally affected and I can’t change that.</div>
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All of this to say that I know I am not ready and I AM listening. I don’t need to push through and prove myself. It will come on its own and I may one day be on that van again. But right now my work is enough. I will get there one day because I know in my heart that that is the area of work that I am meant to be doing.</div>
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I am in such a different place now. I am constantly growing and becoming. I am learning every day at my job. I have beautiful friends and family who support me along the way, even on the days I am struggling to breathe. I have my freaking MSW and worked damn hard to earn that. I have a job that may not be a good fit, but right now it may be where I am meant to be.This journey called life is so unpredictable and I would have never been able to see where I would end up 4 years ago. Here I am scarred from the fires but standing strong on the other side of them. </div>
Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-15463567653128185442016-09-27T06:50:00.000-07:002016-09-27T06:50:30.593-07:008 Years Ago Today....<br />
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I did not know what September 27th, 2008 would bring. I was so full of emotions that day, from the moment Mckenna woke up, to the moment I went to bed without her. It's hard to believe how that can happen. How the day can turn in an instant. The drastic changes from the morning to the afternoon to the evening. I did not know that at around 9 am that I would move a TV and it would fall on my daughter. I did not know that at 2:56pm I would hold her lifeless body as she slipped away no longer the joyful, full of life little girl I woke up to that morning. I did not know that I would walk around in a daze wondering what in the hell had just happened going to bed lost and confused. My life was changed on the morning of September 27th, 2008.<br />
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8 years ago today I knew what it meant to be brought to your knees begging for your life to end because the pain was just too much to bare. In these last 8 years, I have discovered the depths of darkness I would go. I discovered who would stay by my side and who would leave. I discovered how to push the pain away and put on my mask. I discovered who I was and who I wasn't. I discovered how to feel the pain and carry it. I discovered that I will learn to navigate this life without my daughter. I will allow the dark in and embrace the light knowing and trusting that it will ebb and flow for the rest of my life. I have learned so much since that day and will continue to learn and grow until the day I die. Just wish with every part of my soul that it did not happen and I was here with my daughter.<br />
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It has been a long/short 8 years. SO much has happened since that day. I never knew I would get to the place I am today. I did not know that I would one day feel joy again. I did not know that her death would cause me to grow in ways I never thought possible. I did not know that I would become, grow and love so deeply. My daughter changed my life and dare I say, she changed me for the better. Would I give it all up to live a life with her, of course, however, this is not possible. I will not be able to mother her on this earth. So I will embrace those who come into my life who fill me with joy and love, I will look at the little things in life and know they are a gift, I will love with every part of my soul, I will see the beauty in the pain. I will allow love into my heart even when I feel I don't deserve it. I will honor Mckenna forever and always because she is the reason I was put on this earth. </div>
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On the morning of September 27<sup>th</sup>, 2008 I lost the love of my life. Her name is Mckenna Jodell and she will NEVER ever be forgotten, she is forever loved and always MISSed….<br />
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Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-65428121382322931622016-06-16T13:28:00.001-07:002016-06-16T19:50:42.308-07:00We Can Imagine....Love to Lane Graves and His Family<br />
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Lane Graves, 2 years old killed by an alligator in what is supposed to be happiest places on earth. I can't seem to get him or his parents off my mind.<br />
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Not too long ago I was having a conversation with a couple bereaved mom friends. We were talking about what it means to say to someone, "I can't imagine". One of these beautiful friends <a href="http://www.karlahelbert.com/" target="_blank">Karla Helbert</a> said that she no longer says those words to anyone after an interaction with a bereaved parent or someone who went through a traumatic experience. Because in reality, we CAN imagine what it would be like to be in their shoes. We CAN imagine what it must have felt like for that father to run in the water desperately trying to save his son, we CAN imagine the parent leaving home not knowing their child ran after them accidently running them over, we can imagine what it must feel like for the parents who discover they did not drop their child off at daycare accidently leaving them in the car, we CAN imagine the mother holding their lifeless child after pulling them out from under a television they just moved, we CAN imagine feeling the responsibility, the shame, the guilt of their actions, their decisions, their mistakes that caused the death of their child. But most are unable to sit with these images because it's too much to sit with, imagine or process.<br />
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An <a href="http://www.theblaze.com/contributions/parents-who-suffer-tragedies-do-not-need-or-want-your-cruel-and-pointless-criticism/">article</a> was published acknowledging that no matter what "mistakes" this family may have made, they need to be treated with compassion, love and respect. That no matter what happened leading up to these heart wrenching events, they lost their precious son. Accidents happen, mistakes are made and we can't always be the perfect parent. We are human who make mistakes and some parents have to live with these awful mistakes that may have caused the death of their own child.<br />
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I have been in their shoes, totally different circumstances, but in the end I made a mistake one day that cost me my daughters life. They did not wake up that morning in fear that their son was going to be dead by the end of the evening. They did not wake up that morning with the intention of putting their son in danger. They did not wake up that morning thinking their son was going to be killed by an alligator. I sure as hell did not wake up the morning Mckenna died thinking I would be holding her as her heart stopped beating because I made the mistake of moving a television and accidently dropping on her.<br />
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People are cruel, mean, condeming, blaming, judging and yet if it were them they would feel the same guilt, shame and grief this poor family is feeling and will feel for the rest of their life. We CAN imagine what it would be like to lose your child this way, we CAN imagine the panic as you try and save your child, we CAN imagine helplessly standing by as people search for the body of your child. We CAN imagine and we SHOULD imagine because allowing yourself to imagine this horror, you feel more compassion and love for those who actually went through it. You would hope that if you were in their shoes, others would treat you the way you would want to be treated, with compassion, love and respect.<br />
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These poor parents are already going through hell, no reason to add to their shame and guilt. Remind others to sit with what it would be like to go through what they are going through and remind them that no one is perfect, we are all human.<br />
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Lane Graves, his parents and family are in my heart. From one bereaved parent to another, my heart is with you.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-56813801071980510452016-04-19T20:19:00.000-07:002016-04-19T21:33:18.511-07:00Graduation, Weeping Willows and Love<div class="MsoNormal">
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I have often thought about the analogy of trees and wind. Trees need to be flexible when the winds blow or they would break and not survive the storm. Rigid, stubborn trees trying hard to go against the wind grow tired, weary and broken. Fluid and flexible trees go with the flow of the wind, bending and bouncing back after a storm. </div>
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When I began my journey of becoming a social worker I was the stubborn rigid tree trying hard to control everything around me falling apart in the process. This became more of a challenge than allowing the wind to do what it does and go with whatever direction it goes. It was exhausting. I would come unhinged quickly, shut down and not stay with my emotions. Friends have told me that they saw it happen right before their eyes.</div>
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2 years ago I started the MSW program. I was fragile, unstable, rigid, shut down, broken and lost. I never thought the day would come for me to get my Master’s. Graduation felt like a million years away. Every class felt like it related to my life. I realized that as much as school was for me to learn how to care for others, it was also about me learning how to care for me. If I did not learn to care for myself, I was going to be no good to those I care for.</div>
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When I first began this process I was a hot broken mess. I knew it deep down but I told myself that I was fine and able to get through. I was so wrong and so glad I am able to look back and see my growth. Even just 2 years ago I was a different person than I am today. Sometimes it is hard to see but I have beautiful souls who remind me of where I was 2 years ago. I have learned that it is ok to have rough days, it is ok to cry, it is ok to not know what is triggering the emotions, why I feel the way I do. I can miss my mom just as much as I miss Mckenna, I can love big, and I can grieve big.</div>
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Recently I was with a beautiful friend having conversations about my growth and how far I have come. I told her how I feel I am now the fluid, flexible tree, just like my favorite tree, the beautiful weeping willow. I have had some major changes occur that have forced me to go with the flow of the wind and trust that my limbs won’t break as the wind blows, changing directions at any moment. I trust myself enough to go with the flow and that everything will all work itself out. 2 years ago these major changes would have sent me over the edge, grasping for anything to save me as I fell. I am now able to have a moment, regroup and process things differently. I am kinder to myself, I am less judgmental, I am more passionate, I give less shits about what others think (amazing feeling), I am able to own a mistake and apologize (though this is still a learning process and a work in progress), I am able to be with those who are hurting, I am more present for others, I am able to recognize the difference in feeling for others and feeling my own emotions, I cry for others. I walk with my head held high trusting the journey and when I fall it's ok because falling is part of the process. </div>
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I owe so much to my growth to my living people and my dead people. My living beautiful soul people have been by my side helping me process, love me unconditionally, cheer me on, make me accountable, are patient with me, allow me to feel what I feel without judging me and never forcing me to be/do something I’m not ready for. My dead beautiful soul people have shown me the love I have to give, the love I can receive, that nothing is bigger than love not even death. They allow me to see the beauty in the world. Seeing everything more clear and breathtaking. Pain and joy coexist.<br />
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There are several people who I wish were here to see me walk that stage to receive my MSW degree. My father, my nana, my brother Peter, my mom and Mckenna. I know they are all proud, but I am dedicating this degree to my mom and most importantly my beautiful baby girl Mckenna Jodell, the driving force for this journey. Without her, I would not be who I am today. Her life and her death have forever changed me. I will continue to listen as she guides me where I am meant to be. She reminds me every day that I AM a mom and I will ALWAYS be a mom. I am proud, they are proud....I do still wish Mckenna would be my grand prize for this achievement....But since she won't be I will allow myself to envision her running up to me, hugging me tight, telling me she is proud of her mama. I dedicate this to my mom as she was the proudest mother of everything I ever did. I owe her for instilling in me to work hard, be kind, be respectful and be me. I miss her deeply and she will not be there to see me get my MSW but I know she will be looking on from where ever she is cheering louder than anyone in person. </div>
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It is now time for me to spread my wings and fly. Start my new journey of change, love, and light. I would not be where I am today without my living and my dead. Thank you all for believing in me and loving me through this journey. </div>
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I am a now weeping willow..."<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">adaptability, is the willow's ability to not only survive, but</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><b>thrive</b><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;">in some of the most challenging conditions. The</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;">willow</span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;">is a prolific grower, often taking root from a single branch that has fallen into some marshy bog.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In all, the willow reminds us to take heed of this lesson: Keep growing and reaching higher no matter where you are planted." The Celtic meaning of the willow tree.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">A beautiful gift from a beautiful friend for my new journey. LOVE IT!</span></div>
Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-17532888435175537362016-02-02T10:27:00.000-08:002016-02-02T10:28:18.017-08:00Finally Here.....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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As I head into the last few class days of my Master's program I am struck by my impending future and what lies ahead of me, along with being overcome with emotion as I think of the journey that has brought me to this moment in time.<br />
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I began this process in the summer of 2010 as I finished the classes I could (because it was WAY cheaper) at community college and transferred to ASU in spring of 2011. In the fall of 2011 I began a job at PCH which would forever change my life (still can't believe I worked there). I busted my butt each semester going to school full time working full time (nights, which adds a whole new layer of hard work). I began the BSW in the Fall of 2012 where I did my internship at the Glendale Fire Dept Crisis Response team, which to this day do not know how I survived (worked full time nights Fri, Sat and Sun, had Mon off, school Tues and Thurs and internship Tues night to Wed night) and not afraid to admit I had a few meltdowns during that time period and some very scary dark days (thank you to those who saved me on those dark days). In my final semester of the BSW I was accepted into the advanced standing MSW program, landed an internship in the ED of PCH (not sure how I thought that was a good idea), and continued to work nights at PCH . In my personal life my mom was becoming more and more of a worry and I wasn't sure how much longer I could "deal" with her drinking. April came and the first of the cascade of terrible events started. Peter died April 25th, his memorial was May 8th and I graduated with my BSW May 9th. I started the MSW program at the end of May along with my internship at PCH and on June 18th found my mom dead. I slowly began to unravel causing me to fail my internship forcing me to take the year off (best thing I could have done for myself).<br />
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And in between all this I moved 3 times and all the craziness that I can't remember or mention. <br />
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July of 2014 I quit PCH (one of the best days of my life). In the fall of 2014 I moved, started work part time and began the MSW program again. A lot less stressful and I have been able to grow tremendously since that time.<br />
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Fast forward to 2016. I never would have thought I would survive Mckenna's death and yet here I am about to graduate with a Master's degree (holy shit). I can't help but feel nostalgic as I think back. SO much has happened since that summer of 2010 and I'm still alive and a different human being ready to take on the world and do what I need to do to continue to grow, learn and become the Ashley I have been fighting SO hard to become. It has been one hell of a journey and I can't imagine what the months to come are going to bring but I am working very hard to make things happen and see what unfolds.<br />
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Big changes are in my very near future.....Stay tuned!Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-46000601053053559392015-12-19T09:09:00.001-08:002015-12-19T09:09:51.058-08:00Birthday...Death Day....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I am often thinking about what I would say to Mckenna if she showed up one day. I wonder how I would react. I am sure I would stand there in disbelief that I was staring at the face I have missed all these years. I want to write her letters but I so often push them aside because I seem to not have the words. The other night I decided to finally write her a letter because her birthday is approaching. It seemed like a fitting time to actually sit down and write to her. I will keep most of my letter private but wanted to share a couple parts that seem to deeply affected me.<br />
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This time of year is always hard but this year seems to be kicking my ass. I can never predict how the holidays or her birthday are going to affect me. I now am trying to just go with what I am feeling and not try so hard to feel "happy" "jolly" "cheerful" when that is not how I feel deep down in my bones. If I am sad I am sad, if I don't want to participate I'm not going to participate. It's not easy to watch all around me the things I am missing. Don't get me wrong I am so grateful for what I do have and I don't take that for granted, but I can't help but miss what I don't have.<br />
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When Mckenna's birthday approaches I am often met with her death day. This bothers me because I feel her birthday should overshadow her death day. Those who really know me well know that I judge my grief and I am super hard on myself.<br />
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I read Mckenna's letter to a trusted friend yesterday. Before I even read it out loud I told her that it was a stupid letter and that I can never seem to write her a letter that is beautiful (judgement). I read the letter out loud, tears fell, my heart ached, I was deeply saddened by reading my words to my beautiful daughter.<br />
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<i>I wanted to protect you, give you love, be the mom to you that I so desperately wanted. I wasn't going to hurt you the ways my mother did to me. I wouldn't have been perfect but I wouldn't have been an alcoholic. I never hurt you like my mom did me, I hurt you by being distracted, in my own head, careless.....I deserve to hurt.</i><br />
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The guilt is never too far from my mind. It is so easy to get caught up in our own troubles and pain that we lose sight of what we are supposed to be doing. That day I was supposed to be protecting my daughter, keeping her safe and instead I was distracted by my having to move, the loss of my marriage, angry at him that I did the opposite of protecting my daughter, I killed her (accidentally).<br />
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<i> I'm sorry I failed you that day. There are not enough I'm sorrys in the world to make up for what I did. All I can do now is try and be a decent human being by helping others. All I can do now is try and be the mom you still deserve (though I am not sure I am doing all I can to be that mom) My world feels so incomplete without you here with me. I'm not sure it will ever feel complete.</i><br />
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One thing was different as I read it out loud and had it read to me out loud was the compassion I felt for myself. I looked at it as if it was not my story but someone else's story. My heart ached for this mother who made a terrible mistake that cost her her daughters life. When Mckenna was alive I felt like as long as I had her life would be fine. I couldn't imagine my life without her and here I sit in my life without her. I have survived but I am not the same.<br />
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I gain more and more compassion for the mom 7 years ago who was so in love with her daughter and never would have intentionally hurt her. The mom who was distracted, in her head and careless because life was falling apart around her and she didn't know how she was going to survive.<br />
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I may be met with her death day during her birthday but I am going to try and just be with it and notice the judging voice and meet that judging voice with compassion because it's ok to remember both days because both days changed my life forever.<br />
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<br />Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-27293106485517760452015-12-09T08:50:00.000-08:002015-12-09T10:10:26.619-08:00Oh Social Media...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I have been noticing it more and more and have had a couple conversations about social media and the persona people put out there lately. Social media is an interesting thing. Many times we post about all the good, the perfect picture, the perfect moment in time and yet the behind the scenes of that perfect moment or perfect picture are never disclosed. For example, how many shots it took to get the perfect picture, about the fight that happened just before the "perfect moment". The smiles are deceiving and don't always share the whole story (Trust me I can turn on a smile in a picture and no one would know the pain I am feeling under the smile.) Why is it that when we post about the realness of our lives or how we are <i>really</i> doing it is seen as weakness or annoying? How people place judgment on a post that is too <i>personal</i> as if they have never experienced a rough day? Who cares if someone shares their real life, I would rather see authenticity.<br />
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I too am guilty of getting the perfect picture and posting it, or sharing what is good, but I also am sad a lot. I don't always post about it because I just need to be in my space with it. If I do want to post about it I don't want to feel stupid since I know I am being judged for feeling the way I do.<br />
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So many don't want to hear about the reality of life but lets face it our lives are not perfect, they aren't always rainbows and butterflies. Why can't we post the joys AND the sadness and EVERYTHING in between when that is what life is all about.<br />
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Yes we don't need to post every personal detail about our daily lives and what is going wrong or what is going right, but when we do we shouldn't be made to feel less than for posting it.<br />
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There is a balance to everything in life. Post what you want and don't judge what others post.<br />
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Give love and support because most people just want to be heard, acknowledged and validated. <br />
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That's my two cents anyway...<br />
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P.S. This is not based on anyone in particular but just something that has been on my mind with social media.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-62143254802297989182015-11-18T16:00:00.004-08:002015-11-18T16:03:10.109-08:00I'm Proud of You<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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"I'm so proud of you honey" my mom would say. Thank you I would say back to her, be shy about my accomplishment and move on. I never knew how much I would miss those words coming from her. But I do....a lot.<br />
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For whatever reason I am stuck on this word proud. You know that feeling you get when you are proud of someone? The immense joy you feel, the smile on their face shining through as they see how proud you are of them? Or the feeling you get when someone is proud of you. How it makes you feel proud of yourself. How it makes you feel loved. I love/d that feeling and yet I am often hit with grief when I see it around me. I think how I will never hear my mom tell me how proud she is of me or how I will never get the chance to show Mckenna my pride in her. I love/hate seeing parents proud of their children. It's a beautiful thing and yet a hit to the gut.<br />
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My mom was so full of pride in both of her children and was never afraid to tell us. When I graduated with my BSW she couldn't get to me fast enough to be the first to hug me. The look on her face that I didn't "see" till after she died was full of pride. I never doubted it I always knew how proud she was of me.<br />
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I know others are proud of me and it really means the world, but there is something about your parent being proud of you that truly makes you see your accomplishments. It makes you feel proud of yourself and know you can do anything. I took for granted what it felt like to hear my mom say those words to me. To put her hands on my face and tell me how proud and how beautiful I am.<br />
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I yearn to have these moments again with my mom, I yearn to to watch my daughter grow, learn and do things that make me proud. It is two different sides with me being the daughter missing those words from my mother and me being the mother missing sharing those words with my daughter.<br />
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I miss my mom, I miss Mckenna. It's a tough time of year and I am feeling it deeply.....Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-7651280363788634322015-08-28T19:00:00.002-07:002015-08-29T06:57:15.762-07:00I Was Once...<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIOXPCtKRPkbMXgs9IWdBumiXbeWNq3rDqX14Djgt4DjHqY5XhJFGvhWo4SG3GZhd4eFPko-heqLNCYidErFynrhaZmIjJIu018g3B7TSvERsFwu7BgTYUW40gCcX4tb3Egxk7JZzSdNWZ/s1600/1135998b811e9d55510bf228a4f9212e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIOXPCtKRPkbMXgs9IWdBumiXbeWNq3rDqX14Djgt4DjHqY5XhJFGvhWo4SG3GZhd4eFPko-heqLNCYidErFynrhaZmIjJIu018g3B7TSvERsFwu7BgTYUW40gCcX4tb3Egxk7JZzSdNWZ/s320/1135998b811e9d55510bf228a4f9212e.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
How does one discover who they are? How do you find yourself
when all your identities have been stripped from you? I have found myself
struggling with who I am, knowing the core of my soul. Who am I? This is what I know about me....</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am a care taker. Loving and caring more for those I love
deeply than I care and love myself. I would literally die for those I love and
be ok with that as long as they are safe and alive. I would suffer just so
someone else doesn’t have to suffer. I would go with out to give to another. My
heart hurts for animals, children, elderly, those who are hurting. I want to
help, I want to fix, I want to be there. All of these things sounds like I am a
beautiful soul with so much to give this world and yet I feel like I have no
purpose in this world, that I am not good enough, smart enough to be what I
need to be for others.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am a people
pleaser. I am so afraid of hurting others that I would do anything to not hurt
them so I often don’t say anything at all. I get hurt easily. I have too high
expectations so I am disappointed a lot. I say I’m sorry for anything and
everything I do, I cry when I receive constructive criticism for something I
have written or said to someone, I feel stupid when I don’t write well which makes me cry. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I am sensitive. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Highly intuitive. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And extremely observant </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I was once a daughter. I lost my dad the day before my 14<sup>th</sup>
birthday. I never got to know him like my siblings did. I have few memories but
the ones I do have are some of my most fond memories. He loved me deeply and I knew
how much he loved me. I had regrets after his death. I didn’t see him enough
and when I did I couldn’t be around him because it was too painful. The man I
knew was wasting away right before my eyes. So I sat in the other room and
played video games. I was a young girl who didn’t know how to be with her dying
father. Though those regrets do not linger anymore. I was 14 struggling to
figure out how to deal with my dad’s death while dealing with my mom’s
drinking. I lost my mom when I was 29. Her death shook me to the core. Still
does. The night I found her I didn’t care about the drinking because I just
wanted my mom back. Though in reality that life was challenging. Dealing with
an alcoholic is almost impossible. Since her death all I can think about are
all the ways I didn’t help her. How I could have done more. I have to be reminded
of the ways I did that I did all I could do with what I had. I feel like I
failed her on so many levels. I was the
child but I was more of a mom to my mom. A role I shouldn’t have had to take
on. I loved her fiercely, I loved her with all of my being and in the end that
wasn’t enough, she still died. I couldn’t save her. I yearn for her. I ache for
her. I miss the mom I knew behind the alcohol. Yes your parents are supposed to
die before you, but I just wish it didn’t have to happen when I was 14 and 29. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was once a wife. I thought I was a good wife. I would have
gone to the ends of the earth for my ex husband only to be treated like I didn’t
matter. He never stood up for me. He often made me feel like I wasn’t as loved
as I loved him. I felt like I was the last thing on his priority list. Yes this
was not my fault but it was what I felt deep down I deserved back then. I didn’t
deserve to be treated with respect so I just took what he did give and loved
him with all of my heart and soul. Being a wife was so important to me, I took
my vows seriously. I gave my all and in the end I lost everything. My love
could not save it. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was once a mom. I LOVED being a mom. Waking up to the
beautiful sounds of Mckenna made life all worth it. It didn’t matter what I was
going through as long as I had her I knew I was going to be ok. We were
buddies. I loved watching her explore her world. Making new sounds, learning
new things every day, taking the world in (she was observant like me). I loved
her beyond this world. She trusted me completely, did not know fear and knew I
would be there. Knowing how much she trusted me breaks my heart because all she
wanted to do was be next to me and I drop a television on her. Yes
unintentionally, but it happened because my hands moved the TV and I wasn’t
paying attention. My love ultimately killed Mckenna. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was once a different person though I don’t know who that
person was. How do I try to be the person I think I am if I don’t know who that
person is? I don’t have anyone to take care of anymore. I have not been a daughter
of a father for 17 years, a daughter of a mother for 2 years, a wife for 7 years and a mother for 7 years. I know these roles should not define me as who
I am. I just want to be content with the person I am and know me to my core. As
my friend said…the struggle is real.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I want I was once to be I am. I am fearless, I am lovable, I am funny, I am worthy, I am beautiful, I am smart, I am, I am, I am....All the things I feel I am not need to be I am. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It has been a struggle for a few weeks to try and figure out who I am. I love deeply, I hurt deeply and I wish I knew where life was taking me because I feel a bit lost in the world. I guess we all feel a little lost sometimes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am blessed with some beautiful friends who walk with me along the way. I may be sharing some of my pain publicly but I share my deepest, darkest thoughts and feelings with a select few. They help remind me of the person they see, what I did for my mother, how my ex husband is an asshole, and that I really was a good mom. I need to hear those things from time to time. They sit with me in the space and understand how it feels. They aren't afraid of my pain and thoughts, they listen, they love and they honor my journey. I love you and thank you for loving me. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-67178169822760186882015-08-26T08:47:00.001-07:002015-08-26T08:48:29.758-07:00Love, Compassion and Vegetarianism <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawSiuSJqUmD9RQ2CA9x_9HxoRudmQMaVmlnmkUzqEGET_pDZdHunawafX6BC8NaVyTEdEk_uvokrGPSpqaFUECdGvQfjUTWGY-DlwOZF6VaAN4KmA1y4L0GO7J_8lDT_Cz_2aAZNztG5T/s1600/11755652_10204766558151117_6302549575746936528_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiawSiuSJqUmD9RQ2CA9x_9HxoRudmQMaVmlnmkUzqEGET_pDZdHunawafX6BC8NaVyTEdEk_uvokrGPSpqaFUECdGvQfjUTWGY-DlwOZF6VaAN4KmA1y4L0GO7J_8lDT_Cz_2aAZNztG5T/s320/11755652_10204766558151117_6302549575746936528_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.3199996948242px; text-align: start;">You know, we all oppose animal cruelty. But sometimes we forget that animals on farms suffer and feel pain like all other animals. They, too, deserve to be protected from harm and cruelty. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.3199996948242px; text-align: start;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; line-height: 19.3199996948242px; text-align: start;">-- Charlotte Ross</span></span></div>
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When I was a little girl I always felt pain when I saw an animal hurting or even felt bad if I accidentally stepped on an ant hill. I would feel terrible. I didn't use my voice back then to stand up for the animals. For example my Nana had a pig. She warned me what was going to happen to the pig and to not get too attached. Well I ended up naming her Daisy and gave her bathes, loved on her and took care of her. I actually don't remember the moment she was taken to be slaughtered but my family did not help. We would be eating and they would say you know we are eating Daisy then proceed to say things like, "Ashley why did you let them kill me." I'm surprised I didn't become a vegetarian right then and there. I didn't even know what that was and I didn't know how to stand up to my family who made fun of me for loving a pig, a hunting family, a meat eating family.<br />
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I have been a vegetarian now for 3 years. I cannot even imagine going back to eating animals. It all started after I watched the documentary Vegucated. It took me 3 days to watch this film because I couldn't get passed what they were doing to these animals. Those videos changed my heart and I stopped eating meat right then and there. I threw everything out and just couldn't stomach eating them. Ever since then my heart has broken open even more for animals, ALL animals. On a trip to Colorado there were cows roaming and I got so excited, they were beautiful and had calves with them. I squealed like a little kid with excitement. How could anyone eat this beautiful animal?<br />
<br />
I recently got into a FB fight with a family member about this very thing. It made me realize just how passionate I am now for animals. I am starting to wonder how people can watch those videos and not feel compassion and love for them. Is it out of sight out of mind? Would you be able to eat a horse, a dog or a cat as easily as you can a cow, pig or chicken? Do you not feel pain as you see the fear in their eyes? They know know pain, they feel deeply just like we do. They cry when their babies are taken from them, they cry when they are hurt. Factory farming is disgusting and no animal should have to live in those conditions and treated the way they are.<br />
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I will never go back to eating meat because I love them too much and I care about how they are treated and in my opinion so should everyone else! A friend recently became a vegetarian and it makes my heart happy. "I looked at my burrito meat chopped up and for the first time saw what I was eating. Dying, crying, slaughtered soul. Ugh." When your heart is broken open to see these precious animals as more than "meat" it changes you, it changes your soul. My family doesn't understand, some of my friends don't understand but I will no longer silence my voice.<br />
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Open your eyes people....<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>Until we extend our circle of compassion to all living things, humanity will not find peace.</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.3199996948242px;">-- Albert Schweitzer</span> </b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRagObDPOEZORTPNFeu7d2K14J7_eucxJIrWGNy8UpbOs7UEfCq41meGm8O69cf9OGyVI-mVE8tpIQrn76SQ6fM04jteS1ApRtSsyfrv0Fi0dPp6593a2uPvZOWUuJbf9bfHZ-qG_G76uX/s1600/pigs-ccflcr-crispyking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="205" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRagObDPOEZORTPNFeu7d2K14J7_eucxJIrWGNy8UpbOs7UEfCq41meGm8O69cf9OGyVI-mVE8tpIQrn76SQ6fM04jteS1ApRtSsyfrv0Fi0dPp6593a2uPvZOWUuJbf9bfHZ-qG_G76uX/s320/pigs-ccflcr-crispyking.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ZH7VIg3A7lbWZuR7k9-eHZn0gggUK0OKUDhwIdHCPcX6DaGvUs8v6z5sp2oyaSyyJZlTW9wdFGWaSTw4TK7yLE3wxHQpw0o-xYcwmM0DNsPXjggmD9igFH4I6WKH5pwSW7mENQFJu7Cs/s1600/Some-chickens-001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ZH7VIg3A7lbWZuR7k9-eHZn0gggUK0OKUDhwIdHCPcX6DaGvUs8v6z5sp2oyaSyyJZlTW9wdFGWaSTw4TK7yLE3wxHQpw0o-xYcwmM0DNsPXjggmD9igFH4I6WKH5pwSW7mENQFJu7Cs/s320/Some-chickens-001.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-51559227476634222042015-08-03T19:47:00.000-07:002015-08-03T20:07:00.205-07:00I Should/Would Have a Second Grader....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigKKA6h7k-si3nk_3KlPEWOqvc9dYuQCP-Q0E_uSimlVt4HnziTt9w2HUJucGYBwnMoNCxM84VQfSAqFceTxIx46zplETuLEU4bE96-x6aLb_oD8I4bmhOl6u8rdPZhj52TrOgZJyK5k_V/s1600/IMG_5654.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigKKA6h7k-si3nk_3KlPEWOqvc9dYuQCP-Q0E_uSimlVt4HnziTt9w2HUJucGYBwnMoNCxM84VQfSAqFceTxIx46zplETuLEU4bE96-x6aLb_oD8I4bmhOl6u8rdPZhj52TrOgZJyK5k_V/s200/IMG_5654.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>
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Mckenna's "school" picture (possibly, who knows, I don't know, maybe)</div>
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The first day of school pictures have started to fill my FB feed. I have been mostly avoiding FB and I was doing it naturally without even thinking about it. I know what I will see and I know how it will make me feel so I avoid looking when I can. I can feel her absence as she should be starting 2nd grade this year. No school shopping, no clothes shopping, no getting school supplies, no excitement to start a new year with her friends, I will never do these things with Mckenna.<br />
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I don't even know what it would be like to have a 7 year old let alone a child going to school. How is it that she would be starting second grade? How in the world is it possible that I would have a 7 1/2 year old little girl?? Seriously blows my mind. I am sure I would feel this way if she were here, but it's different when you've never got to experience each milestone. <br />
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When Mckenna was going to start kindergarten it was at the tail end of the summer my brother died, my mom died, I failed my internship, friendships changed, it was just a shitty summer. It didn't hit me as hard since I was going through hell. I must have put it out of my thoughts because I could not add anymore pain to my already shattered heart. Last year, 1st grade, I was getting ready to start a new chapter, move, start grad school that it didn't seem to bother me as much and frankly I have a hard time remembering that time in my life. Must have still been in a fog. Second grade seems to be hitting my heart. I ache to be 7 year old, second grader Mckenna's mom. I ached to be her 1 year old mom, 2,3,4,5,6 year old Mckenna's mom (wow so many years I missed already...sigh) and I am sure that will never change.<br />
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Several of my beautiful bereaved mama friends who are like me, no living children, have posted about this. Some may not even think about this as it is their "normal" for first days of school. Our "normal" is far from "normal". Please cherish this time with your children. Back to school is stressful I know and it's hard to see past the normal everyday life. Just give them an extra hug and kiss, always say you love them and listen to their days as we would give anything to have these moments with our children. Stress and all.<br />
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Not all children get to start school this year and their parents miss them.... It may seem silly to some, but it is our reality and some years it's just painful.<br />
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Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-53867398953625118952015-07-08T05:56:00.000-07:002015-07-08T05:56:10.091-07:00Longing.....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinOkrDO7-IXzofGAZu2hQAKKG2p1Tp4FZz7hW5uKkG-u1dp7xvxHPhnjgQpVqExXMT-n7o7p1LcW61fsD3rCxti7KcU2OXIIQggKMOrLaW3oDNK8PEz-mauoPpZtLsqTAmbjKX6ZzPFsuQ/s1600/6f3b863ec739724758f3f8e5d7c0c7f7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinOkrDO7-IXzofGAZu2hQAKKG2p1Tp4FZz7hW5uKkG-u1dp7xvxHPhnjgQpVqExXMT-n7o7p1LcW61fsD3rCxti7KcU2OXIIQggKMOrLaW3oDNK8PEz-mauoPpZtLsqTAmbjKX6ZzPFsuQ/s320/6f3b863ec739724758f3f8e5d7c0c7f7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I often find myself longing for things I can't have. Not material things. I long for Mckenna, I long to mother Mckenna, I long to have my mom, I long to be mothered. Things I won't ever have again...<br />
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Even before my mom died I longed to have my mom. My sober mom. I longed to have a mother daughter relationship.I actually had a glimpse of what this looked like for us when she was sober for a year and a half. When she started drinking again after that year and a half I was absolutely devastated. My heart shattered yet again and this time it would never be put back together. I would spend the next months and years of my mothers life angry, hurt, sad, distant, cold towards her. I wanted her to get sober and stay sober not just for me but for her.<br />
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In that year and a half I got to see my mom again. We laughed till we cried, she would be my mom and make me breakfast, dinner, lunches for when I stayed at her apt before work. I was able to be the daughter and what a wonderful feeling that was. I let her mother me, take care of me and I was slowly letting her into my world. The moment she drank again was the moment I lost her forever. It would never be the same and it never was the same. I was the mom again. I took care of her. I worried about her, I showered her, checked on her. I knew deep down that I would never get my mom back.<br />
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Now that my mom is dead I long for her so deeply it physically hurts. As painful as it was to be her daughter sometimes, she was alive, she was here. I long for my sober mom....<br />
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I have many mothers in my world who have daughters. Every now and then when I see them together, or hear about them I am hit with the realization that I won't ever have my mom, we will no longer get the chance to be mother and daughter again and it hurts my heart. I don't have my mom and it really sucks....Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-45594866537924507292015-06-30T19:55:00.001-07:002015-07-01T06:09:46.200-07:00More Children? Probably Not....<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiAYYcHf0L0zRpONMj0oV3iWn7ugntsAdSzKEmHMSvkHCkwYQfxGn8teQWeOs30sYpOh3d8hAwpzNqL0wEIllhyEQrwcf8aXkpiqrKVomvVMzUQSOebUFgx5kFSXh30uOBgi9QMqEZ7W5t/s1600/062_62.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiAYYcHf0L0zRpONMj0oV3iWn7ugntsAdSzKEmHMSvkHCkwYQfxGn8teQWeOs30sYpOh3d8hAwpzNqL0wEIllhyEQrwcf8aXkpiqrKVomvVMzUQSOebUFgx5kFSXh30uOBgi9QMqEZ7W5t/s320/062_62.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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To have more children or to not have more children has been the question that has been coming up for many weeks. Especially over the last few weeks. I've had dreams of me being pregnant or having a baby. People have asked me if I will have more children more than normal lately. This is a tough one for me because I haven't really had the baby itch since Mckenna died. It has come up a few times but not as much as I would have thought almost 7 years later.<br />
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In the beginning I couldn't think of having any more children because I didn't want more children, I wanted Mckenna. I wanted to raise Mckenna, only Mckenna. I have mostly been single for 6 years now and still have no desire to have more children. Sometimes I feel like there is something wrong with me because I don't want more children. I love children, I love babies, I love snuggles, and making them laugh, they seem to love me too, but that doesn't make me want more of my own. This could be because I have yet to meet someone or it could just be I know I won't have more children or want them.<br />
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I have been missing Mckenna very much lately. I was talking with a friend the other day about it and she asked me what I miss most right now in this moment. I miss everything was my answer. I miss baby Mckenna, not the 7 year old Mckenna because I never knew anything else than those 9 months. I still just want Mckenna, I want her back and to raise her, I want to be her mom no one else's. Which I know isn't fair or shouldn't be reason I don't want more children. Another friend and I talked about this very topic recently and it was an eye opening conversation because she spoke the words others have never said to me and it was how I felt. It was nice to hear another bereaved mom say the things I have felt. Different in some ways but the same in so many other ways.<br />
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Will I have more children, I don't know. Do I want more children, I don't know. I am now 31 years old and I am setting an age on if I do not have more children by then I will never have more children and I feel I will be content with that. Most in my life would love for me to get married, have more children, have a family and I truly feel that this may not happen. I may meet someone, I may get married, but I may not have more children. I am ok with that and truly it is my life and my choice to make. For me there are so many reasons I don't want more children and I think that needs to be ok.<br />
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I know that if any of my wishes came true I would want my baby girl, my Mckenna and I don't think that will ever change.Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-12366202403281948182015-05-20T14:00:00.001-07:002015-05-20T14:00:46.729-07:00WOW....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNG9mzF5c7mwrGdSG9J_awCirUwuxZn9dNA5F903Vyb55QvDZQ3DVr04sSegSP26lfL0N9dKSOV9DcBkvwzBYVadtLXlCkFvkFXvRbDfDe1gMEDSb5ZzvQF7iBJ_9uSfdSvaFyPs591Ww7/s1600/IMG_5653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNG9mzF5c7mwrGdSG9J_awCirUwuxZn9dNA5F903Vyb55QvDZQ3DVr04sSegSP26lfL0N9dKSOV9DcBkvwzBYVadtLXlCkFvkFXvRbDfDe1gMEDSb5ZzvQF7iBJ_9uSfdSvaFyPs591Ww7/s320/IMG_5653.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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For several years I wanted to get Mckenna's age progression picture done. I needed, wanted to know what she would look like because my imagination would never form any other age than a 9 month old baby. I asked a friend about my need/want for this and was advised to wait, so I waited. Once the urge came on strongly again I decided to go through with it. It was expensive and I broke down and asked family and friends if they would be willing to help me raise the money and they sure did. I was able to go through with it with no regrets.<br />
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I opened the picture with a trusted safe friend in case I had a melt down. To say I was nervous is an understatement. As I was communicating with the women who did her portrait I would get a physical reaction just getting an email. I was so afraid I would see it and think it didn't look like her (how I would I really know though). I let my friend see it first and her reaction was "wow" no other words spoken, just wow. When she showed it to me tears as I turned away, overwhelmed. There she was, my beautiful, smart, happy, curious, full or life baby girl. It is so bittersweet. I was happy to see her but she is dead it shouldn't be this way. I wanted her here, I wanted this Mckenna, I wanted to get to know her as a 7.5 year old little girl. I went back and forth with tears of sadness and joy amazed that she was mine. I was staring into the eyes of my baby girl who I swear was looking right at me. I just stared at her, turned to my friend with tears in my eyes saying she's so beautiful.<br />
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As the day went on I was "fine." I could feel the tears under the surface. I felt like I was going to cry on and off all day. I just couldn't get over it. I had her image in my head all day trying to wrap my brain around it. The day turned into evening and I really could feel the pain, the heartache, the sadness and the tears were just waiting to be released. I did what I do best and I avoided it until I could no longer hold back my tears. I wanted my baby girl. All the things I lost the day she died. I lost her at every age. I never even got to hear her say mama more than one time. Yes it was one time but it was never again.....<br />
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I don't even know what kind of mother I would be to a 7 year old. I'm sure I would have been just like any other mother, learning as I go making mistakes, feeling like everything I was doing would screw her up. I would like to think I would have been a bad ass single mother who was able to support us, struggling but making it work.<br />
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I hung her picture up in my room where I can see her everyday (still avoiding looking at her, though it's getting easier).<br />
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<b>I do not regret it however, if my bereaved friends wants to do this some day have therapeutic support because it really is a lot to process.</b><br />
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Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5582015265114513694.post-78831537925631537622015-05-13T13:13:00.001-07:002015-05-13T14:42:07.079-07:00Knocks the Breath out of Me....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqqMw5U2FBOytDzMtqyay-GT1ZThG6DCZVUOO3URjj69-lBLoqMcr1beYm7KnXxmSxzgUuo5WJsi_T3G6D1VhZinbJ2gpOTUTDMIE5T8VMa_bDQoWYqjP8PnZi2ujtANzRfsC5_ejEJr0/s1600/176f326b47aa3845a641cdf5cb43e6a9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqqMw5U2FBOytDzMtqyay-GT1ZThG6DCZVUOO3URjj69-lBLoqMcr1beYm7KnXxmSxzgUuo5WJsi_T3G6D1VhZinbJ2gpOTUTDMIE5T8VMa_bDQoWYqjP8PnZi2ujtANzRfsC5_ejEJr0/s320/176f326b47aa3845a641cdf5cb43e6a9.jpg" width="223" /></a></div>
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Author Unknown</div>
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I am often hit with flashbacks of the day Mckenna died. It
varies on which moment catches me off guard. Sometimes it is me looking down
seeing her under the television, sometimes it is me pulling her out from under
the television lifeless, sometimes it is me holding her as her heart
stopped, each and every time these images literally knock the breath out of me. Lately I
have had an image that has come up more than once in a week which is a
sign that I need to sit with this image. These memories are not easy to sit
with. They are very, very hard to process, work through and remember. </div>
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I asked a
friend recently if I will ever look at Mckenna’s beautiful face and not see her
face from the accident? She asked if I only see her face from the accident or
do I see her beautiful face too, I said I see both. Right now I feel the reason
I see her face from the accident when I look at her beautiful face is because
that is the image that keeps popping into my head. The way she looked when I
placed her on the ground as I called 911. </div>
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Her misshapen head, one eye swollen shut bruised, her other eye staying open, her tummy sunk in, not breathing....horrible, horrible, horrible memories </div>
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In a matter of seconds my full of life baby girl lay
lifeless dying on my living room floor. This image haunts me, why wouldn't it. No mother
should ever have to process something so horrific. I caused this accident, I caused her death (on accident), nothing will ever change that or how I feel. This is the reason I will NEVER forgive myself and I'm OK with that. I'm ok with this because I am the one who has to live with this mistake and these images. I'm sure I am not the only mother who would not forgive herself. To expect otherwise is absurd to me. All I can do is process this image, sit with it and allow myself to feel what I feel without trying to "fix" it. The only way it would be "fixed" would be for me to go back in time and make a different decision that day which we all know it not possible. </div>
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Just writing these words my chest is tight, I have a lump in
my throat and my head is dizzy. Though one thing that is different is it has not taken over my life, where as a few years ago images like this would take me out for days. Growing, learning and like a dear friend says "becoming."</div>
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It is never ending. This journey is never ending….</div>
Ashleyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03216741859764238766noreply@blogger.com0