A sad post of loss & heartache. Families can be together forever.

My heart has been put through the cheese grater. My head pounds & my tummy tumbles. I have a hard time typing because my fingers are jello. Tears threaten to explode from my face at any moment. I feel drained, angry, tired & broken.

These things I feel are all from a little soul that I never knew. At first I felt guilty....almost feel....like I'm barging in on a grief that can't be shared.

When someone dies we are told life goes on. We will see that person in the hereafter. Our souls do not parish at death. But what happens when that person never got to have their first breath? We never get to see their personality. How tall they grow. Never get to see them progress through life. What happens when there can be no comfort because we never got to know who that soul becomes? How does one process that?

Tragedy come faster & faster these days. I blame it on age. The older we get the more things we see. The more people we come to know, the more heartache we share.

A sadness I can not even begin to fathom blanketed a friend today. Her child was born full term, quiet & still. A child that I like to say, took years in the making.

There really are no words. Nothing I say or do will lighten her sorrow. All her friends stand in stunned silence. All we can do is stand behind this invisible line & watch her walk through what will be the most hellish years of her life. Each one of us wish we could take a tiny piece of her sorrow & tuck it safely away in our own hearts. Maybe then, the pain will lessen.

We know, her pain will be all hers. We can grieve, moan, rage, pray & wish. But in the end, she is alone in that piercing, soul drenching pain.

She will sit alone with her wounds...in a silent car...a new car seat will be empty. She will pass a car with laughing teens in it. And her only thought will be

"How can YOUR life go on....when my world has stopped spinning?"

Any women who has children....can picture this vividly in her mind. We are all linked. Whether we push out our babies or they are pulled out or cut out...or even picked up for the first time at an adoption agency...we all can weirdly feel a tiny bit of her agony. This particle we feel...is so deep and black. We feel just a particle...she feels it completely. Lord heal her.

Lord heal her.


The Lord Jesus Christ will be the only one...who can heal her.

We can help. Food will be made & delivered. Her house will be cleaned. Her children will be played with. We will pray with her & hold her hands. We will say to her..."tell me about your son. Was he bald? How much did he weight? What is his name?"

But at night, when all is quite. When her belly aches & her head stuffed with "should haves". The only thing I hope is whispered into her brain are the words.

"Be still and know that I am God."

I hope, in the silence, right before she drifts off to sleep...the Lord speaks to her the words..."He is here, safe & happy. He fell asleep right in the crook of my neck. You did good Momma. Please know I will hold him & rock him & care for him until you come home."

There is joy when the one you loves dies. For they are home...safe & happy after a long day out in the world. It's the ones that get left behind that we grieve for. It's sad, painful, maddening & empty. We don't want to be left behind. We don't want to be left alone...without the ones we love so much. When the black cloud of grief comes, our lungs collapse, are eyes sting & our ears ring.....through the bleakness of it all...... the only words I feel are:

Be still and know I am God.

Reeco Suave

Sitting up on the gurney I look around my room trying to figure out how to get off this thing. I have to go to the bathroom before the surgery...because I do NOT want to float any air biscuits while on the table.....on my stomach...tush in the air!


To make things worse....Mr. Reeco/Dr. Sparkles assistant walks in.


He's...kind of cute...in a really weird, stalker, Jersey Shores kind of way. "Hi, I'm Reeco, Dr Sparkle's assistant...let me mark your back."



Let me paint a picture for you....

Reeco is tall, young, thin..."awwww yeahhhh!"
Olive skin......"aahhhhhh"
He has jet black hair..."talk to me Jen!".....which is perfectly qwaft...."grrrr baby!"...into a shiny,huge back swept tidel wave off his head...."ummm, ok...I can work w/ that, big-ness"

His eyes are, how do I put this...stoned looking..."CHECK PLEASE!"

Then his voice is like a soft, cooing dove.......well more like the coo of a SURFER DUDE...."End scene! Sorry buddy, you lost me at "like.....I'm gonna...... mark,..... like...your back..mkayyyyy?" Dude.....don't say M'KAY...it's creepy!


Mr Reeco smells divine as he hunches over me & pulls aside my gown to place a black mark on my back. And I don't know quite how I feel. I think I'll just go to my safe place....again.


He marks me, then floats out of my room.


My husband asks me..."Ummm did a homeless, stoned man just mark your back w/ a Sharpie? That was weird."


Oh yeah...this just keeps getting better!

And I'm off!

5am. I'm at the surgery center....trying not to shake. Trying to believe this will fix me. Trying to believe this will bring back...me.


I get called back into my room. My husband has to wait while they "get me checked in."

Seriously people...he's my husband. He's seen me more then naked. Why can't he come back? I try not to punch someone...well I can't punch anyone because they are so nice.


I get naked, step into my gown. I realise I have to poop. Awww geez...really?!


They hand me lederhosen to squeeze on my legs. Grrr baby! I can't bend over to put them on or even sit onto the gurney. I start to panic...I can't get onto the BED! They are going to have to operate w/ me standing up!!

I just stand there as the old nurse keeps asking me to get into the bed. Why can't I ask for help? Why now? Oh yeah...because the nurse is like 80 years old & I'm afraid I will break her hip if I use her as an elevater!

Before she starts to believe I am stupid........I finally open my mouth & ask for help. The 80 year old nurse nearly shot-puts me into the bed. I think she actually threw me on her shoulder & hucked me into it...can't quiet remember because I went to my safe place as she did it.


Now time for the Squeezie Mc Squeezes a-lot hosen. "Sweetie, put these on."


Ummm, I can't. I need help.


So 2 nurses pull up my tube socks. The older nurse pats my feet & walks out.


So far so good! I am positioned painfully in bed, wearing a gown that's not mine, socks that look sexy fine...and...I have to POOP!


This is going to be a GREAT DAY!