I wonder how things could have been different

 

These past few weeks have been more than emotional for me. I feel like everything and nothing is wrong at the same time. Things are going well, and then this sense of dread comes out of nowhere. There have been a few nights when I get home and just want to go upstairs and get into bed. Exhaustion is a very real thing right now. It's the end of the year at school, 5 more Mondays to be exact. I am working on completing my internship.  And there is life that just keeps lifeing. A house that needs to be taken care of, laundry to be folded, shelves to make, just so many things, and not nearly enough time to get them all completed. I feel like there are so many things begging for my attention, and I am not sure where to start. The other night, as I got into bed, the tears came so fast that all I could do was cry myself to sleep. That so deep ache that is looking for some kind of release. 

Professionally, I am growing, learning, and doing all of the things that I have dreamed about for so long. There are times when I still can't believe it and want to pinch myself and make sure it's really real. I am making a difference, I am helping others, and it makes my heart oh so happy. Even Mark, the other week, asked about me noticing my accomplishments, and I shook my head, saying things like I'm just me.  I do what I do, and I love every second of it.  Then he said, " Maybe you get that satisfaction and reward from helping others, from seeing them succeed and thrive, and I thought, yes, that's it.  So much of what is under and behind my fight is wanting better for others. I want others to never have to feel the things that I have felt. And it isn't that I can fix anything, but I can be there, listen, and help them feel heard. 

Personally, I am really ok. Most of the time, I am fine, but there is that ever-present lingering ache. There are some rough patches, when the weight of what has happened feels like a million oceans smashing against my chest. That deep sadness that keeps rearing its ugly head, is something that I wish would go away. We are talking about things that happened 38 years ago, that often feel like it was just last week . That questioning myself, that mode that makes me so angry, that there are things that I just don't remember. I feel like something has been tapped into, and I have to adjust all over again to a new kind of normal. There are things that I just don't want to be true, and no matter how hard I want things to be different, there are things that I can't change. There are times that I can't go back to and understand or make them any different. I think I have hit a very deep sad that I think a lot of the sad comes from. Having to survive so much on my own and never getting to be sad, never being cared for and never having an understanding of all the things that I was having to deal with.Maybe it's just all catching up. There is so much joy and light in my everyday, to have this kind of sad be so big and have such a looming presence is really hard for me. 

Those what if questions are appearing, and I feel like with each one brings more questions that there are no answers for. What if this, what if that, and some of those answers challenge everything that I have always believed. There are so many things that I don't want to be true, that I have to face, and it's terrifying. All the things that I wonder, What would things have been like if I didn't loose Bella.  What would that have looked like? Would I have said something about my father, would I have gotten to keep her. I wonder how I would have been treated. Would I have been believed , Would I have been cared for ?  Would Bella have been cared for, how would that trip to the emergency room turned out different ? Would CPS have gotten involved would my mother have stood up for me ?  Would I have gotten the help and support that I needed all that time ago ? Would I have been able to be a mom? Would my father have hurt her as well ? Would anything really change ?  In the end, I onlt have small facts that my mind holds onto for dear life. I keep gathering scattered pieces, hoping one day they’ll fit the empty spaces I carry.

Often I wonder what she would have been like ?  This year she would have been 38. 38 years old, and it's more than hard to believe that I would have a daughter that old, that those things that happened still have a hold on me,  there are still nightmares. That there are still questions that I go over and over in my mind, trying to create some kind of sense of them.  I punish myself for the vanished moments, that happened that are still somewhere in my mind. I forget that a crime was committed and I wasn't the one who did anything wrong.  It is carved in my bones by the words that I heard and the actions around me, I didn't deserve care, understanding or warmpth of any kind. My skin holds echoes of  those moments I never asked to relive, shadows that return without warning. I move through the world with memories, feelings and thoughts that no amount of water could ever wash away. The things that I carry , that i have carried since I was 13 are so overwlelming, so unthinkable.  The mere fact that I survived sometimes takes my breath away. 

I want there to be a pease, a calmness, a resolve that I did the best that I could as a 13 year old girl. I want to place the shame and the hate on all of those around me who failed that little girl who never let her grieve, never acknowledged what had happened to her little soul. I found her and I am doing everything I can to being her back to a place where she can stand tall with me and know that she was just a girl who survived unimaginable things and yet continues to change the world with the woman that she has become. I will keep fighting for her and for me as we continue to make a soft place in the world for others just like us. 

I heart your heart. 

Open Wound

 

Oh my heart. I think that there are so many things that need to be said, and yet I am struggling to find the words. There is still a certain disconnect between Spunky and me. I know more than I ever have, I feel closer to her in so many ways, and still, there are pieces that are missing. She is still sitting on a couch outside the room. This week, for the first time ever, I thought of Spunky as a mom. Just a kid, just a girl, and it broke my heart. To survive something so important in silence without a single soul to console her. I was asked about Amelia and if it made me think of Bella. I wanted to respond without even taking a breath, but I am sure it does sometimes. I know that it does, all the time, and it's heartbreaking. It brings back all the who's, what's, and Whys; all the could-have, should-have questions. All of the things that I still don't have answers to. The question was asked how much I think about her, and it kind of stopped me in my tracks. Honestly, I think about her all the time. When I hear the name, when I see it as a store, when there is any combination of those letters, B E L L A, I think of her. When I hear others open up about losing a baby.  At random times, when I think about how old she would be.  While in the car the other day, I heard a song and my first thought was, " Wow, she would be 38 years old this year." Yes, I still think of her after all this time in my everyday life. I even opened Facebook, and the name on a ring was Bella. 

 I am sure going to the Dr. Alan Wolfelt conference made me think about so many things, and opened up that so tender spot where Bella resides. The place where anything was possible, and Bella and Spunky were going to conquer the world together. So many hopes and dreams are held there. I was never allowed to mourn her; I just had to keep going.  I was never allowed to even speak about her or what she meant to me. I know that there were people in that room who knew what happened to me, what happened to Bella, and yet I was never spoken to. I never received any kind of care following the loss of her. So many thoughts and feelings that I don't allow myself to feel. A place that I generally avoid at all costs. It is one of those things that is there with every breath I take and a part of me through and through. It's a soul sad, the deepest kind of sad that there is, and I carry that.

It's more than difficult to think back to that time and imagine all the things that Spunky must have been thinking and feeling. She was terrified, and at the same time, she was going to be a mom and believed that somehow everything was going to work out, and things were going to magically get better. 

I am going to write for a moment as Spunky because if I don't, things get so confusing. For so long, she has been in a different place, and with all that I am, I know that she is a part of me, but sometimes that is just too completely overwhelming. She has survived an unimaginable hell that I often still struggle to wrap my head around. I find myself sitting here shaking my head. She was 13, just thirteen years old, she had the whole world in front of her and didn't even know it. It's more than hard to write because I am not sure that Spunky has ever been given a voice. Maybe today is a start. 

Wolfelt says that we must say:

 hello before goodbye, 

We must see the dark before the light, 

And we must go backwards before we can move forward.  

For Bella, for Spunky, for little Callahan, for the woman that I am today, that is my goal for all of us. 

Let me begin with a Hello. Her Name was Bella 

B.E.L.L.A

Bella was everything. She was hope, she was purpose, she was everything true and innocent. She was everything good in this world. I am not sure that there was a realization that I was pregnant for some time. I don't remember the moment I knew or how I found out. Somewhere in my mind, it's almost like she was always there. She and I lived in this world that, because of her, everything was going to be better. She was my reason to keep breathing when all I wanted to do was die. I can remember thinking that I hoped Andy was her dad. He was not like the others; he didn't hurt me like they did. He tried to help, and at times he made them stop.  I believe he is the reason that we even made it out of that day alive, and that kindness was what I needed to believe was a part of Bella. There was never a time when she wasn't Bella, never a time when I called her anything else; that is who she always was, and was always meant to be. I was so happy being pregnant with her. I think I knew fairly fast and can remember feeling my belly, and talking to her all the time. Nothing else mattered in the world; it was her and me in everything. We held this belief that somehow, because of her, everything was going to be ok. There was a happiness like nothing I had ever known. There was a peace; I felt like I was keeping her safe and sound. I was sure that I was going to give her all the things that I never had. I was with Calvin the first time that I felt her move, and I grabbed his hand. I wanted him to feel her and be as excited as I was. I can remember his smile.  I am not sure what was said, if anything at all, it was confirmation and hope that things were going to be ok for me. Losing her was so very painful. Physically, there was so much pain. I was always able to endure anything, but this was something different. I was in so much pain, and the longer that I waited, hoping that it would just go away, the more that I started bleeding. I was more than afraid and just wanted everything to feel better. When it got to the point that the pain was unbearable, I called Calvin. I was so grateful to see him; he always watched out for me. I knew that he would know what to do. I so looked up to him. I just melted in his arms, and he scooped me up and carried me to his car. I knew that something was very wrong, and I was terrified. The next thing that I remember was the bright lights of what I assume was the emergency room. The pain was excruciating, and the tears just flowed. I was so alone and terrified of being touched, and I wanted someone to just hold me and make everything better.  I didn't understand what was happening or why.  There wasn't a thought about anyone finding out, because I was sure that, because of her, everything was going to be better. I still do not know who was around the bed; people were around, but I was so alone. My heart was breaking. And he said the words; I am sorry you have lost her. I think those words were bouncing around my heard unable to find a place to land that made any sense. But I loved her, we were going to make things better, I was going to keep her safe. I begged him for it not to be true, I thought if I were just better, if I were just this or that, then everything would be ok. Even now, I feel his hand on my leg, the only comfort I received, as I lost my daughter. My everything, my reason for living, my sweet Bella. I had lost Bella, and I had my hope in everything. I still feel that pain at times, and I am not crazy, just grieving. I still miss her all the time. Spunky was a bereaved girl before her time, experiencing a sorrow of her very soul. From that moment on, nothing would ever be the same, and I am still so sad. It was all so confusing. I thought I was doing all the right things, then I believed that I must have been some kind of awful person to have lost her. That moment in the hospital is the last moment that I remember and the only time that she was acknowledged. She was not celebrated, she was not remembered, and I was left alone.  And still I sit alone, terrified of moving, breathing, or living again. In a single second, everything can be gone that matters the most in this world can be gone. 

So my Bella, my sweet girl, who brought me so much light. Here is your Hello to this world, you matter, and you are so important, and wherever you are, you are still making a difference. 

I heart your heart. Love Mom

Plumb: Damaged