I Used to Live Here

I Used to Live Here...

I'm not talking about a former residence, dwelling or state. I'm talking about looking at myself in the mirror and not recognizing who I am after losing four kids. It's like I'm looking at my life as if I'm outside of it and watching a character in a movie unable to connect with my current reality. I don't think there are words to truly express the weight of emotions that I have experienced after losing the two foster girls who I truly loved as my own daughters followed by two painful miscarriages. 

For the past four years I've been navigating this road of infertility always focusing on the next step. Have the surgery, foster to adopt, go through IVF: 1,2,3 times. Now with the realization that I have a blood clotting disorder where in which my fertility specialist won't even discuss next steps until I see a blood specialist I'm stalled. Stalled and left with the weight of the losses and the trauma. For five months I was a mom. My whole world revolved around the wants, needs, cares and love of those beautiful, amazing little girls. It's been seven months since I lost them and I can still see the memories of them in our house. Once vibrant rooms filled with laughter, childlike squeals and toys now lay dormant. Empty rooms mocking my happy memories, making me think I imagined those five months of being "mommy." I'd give anything just to have them back... Coupled with losing two babies of my own, the pain of the losses has knocked me down lower than any place I've ever been before. Two babies who yes I lost early on but who were still a part of me continues to feel like a crushing weight. I've experienced a lot of loss in my life. From a friend who committed suicide, to students untimely tragic deaths, to my stepdad and watching my grandma pass in hospice. None of those have come close to the range of emotions these losses have left me reveling in.

But what can I do about the losses? I can't change the outcome. I can't go back and make different decisions. All I can do is get up, show up, keep going and continue to pray that there is a higher purpose for all this pain. I try to focus on the blessings but most days I feel like I'm just going through the motions like a robot who is trying to mimic the Chrissie I once was. People tell me sometimes to smile or ask what's wrong. Some have even asked what they could do to snap me out of it. If I knew I'd tell you. I so wish I could snap out of it. I'm so over this pity party I feel I'm constantly in. I wish I could feel the joy, happiness and peace in my heart I once knew. But as much as I keep hoping the void in my heart will be filled, it remains broken leaving the rest of me numb. Instead I just keep going. Whole days that are good seem to be out of reach so for now I'm trying to celebrate the meaningful moments I find in each day. I can only pray that those moments will continue to rebuild me into a hopeful person once again so I can regain that connection to myself and truly live here again.