confessions...

i feel like i don't belong:

     in the house i live in.

     with the young mothers at church.

     in this babylost club.

why don't i belong?

     i'm not like anyone else in that house!  i'm loud and creative.  at the same time i'm an adult and a child; a mother and a daughter; a wife and a breadwinner.  i just feel out of place.  i'm messy.  i'm neurotic.  i'm traditional and a feminist.  i am an artist!  i grieve and art is my outlet for my grieving.

     i do not stay at home with my children [my husband does].  i do not cook meals or manage the finances [my husband does].  i do not take care of all the little day to day tasks [my husband does].  i work a job and a half.  i feel guilty about that.  i go to counseling every week [sometimes twice a week].

     my baby wasn't even considered a baby.  he only has a death certificate because we had him cremated [otherwise he would have been disposed of with biohazard waste from the hospital].  i never felt him move.  labor was painless.  some people didn't even know i was pregnant and then he was gone.

how do i go about changing when i don't have the energy to even have a decent conversation with my husband after i get off work?  i'm doing my best to avoid and ignore and it's not working so well.  all the little things are starting to get to me.  i feel judged.  in reality i'm probably judging myself a lot more harshly than anyone else. 

i need a friend who is within arms length.  i have friends in other states or towns, but nobody close here in goshen.  life isn't easy.  marriage isn't easy either.  my job isn't easy.  i'm physically and emotionally drained at the end of most days.  i don't get enough sleep quite often.

i will say my counselor is amazing!  he feels that i have put such high expectations on him he could never live up to them.  i beg to differ.  some people need to be told what to change and some have to figure it out for themselves, even if they've been told before.  chris gets that and he patiently waits for me to figure it out on my own.  he can see grey areas and believes that there is no one right answer...maybe everbody is right.  sometimes i get angry and throw a pillow at him.  he usually gives it back.  sometimes he cries with me.  sometimes he laughs at me.  sometimes he gives advice [rarely does he give advice].  he always listens.  i suppose all counselors should be good listeners, but chris listens in between sessions via e-mail and voice mail and texts.  chris truly cares about his clients and if xavier hadn't died, if we never moved out of the farmhouse i may have never met chris.  chris is one of the best counselors i've ever been to and i've been to several!  i truly believe God brought chris into my life for this time for a purpose.  i've learned that i grieve effectively, sometimes i just don't realize what i'm grieving.  i have all the tools i need...in fact i teach others the tools i need...but, i don't use them in my personal life.  i'm normal, if there is such a thing and normal is not perfect.