Broken

Everything is different
Nothing is the same
Remembering hurts
Forgetting hurts more
More often than not I'm crying on the floor
I'm guilty, I'm hurting, I'm sorry, I'm sad
I try really hard but little things make me mad
It's not you it's me
I'm broken beyond repair
I cry and wish and dream and scream and nothing changes...he's never gonna be there

Teriyaki Salmon

I recently got on the scale and was horrified… I fully admit to being a stress/ comfort eater; chocolate is pretty high on my list of favorite foods. We buy our meat at Sam’s Club, we stock up for the month, its way cheaper than Publix, and much better quality than Wal-Mart. So this shopping trip was geared toward really being serious about a diet. We are trying to get away from red meat and my hubby mentioned wanting to eat more fish. We bought a salmon fillet for around $17, it’s just me and the hubby so we were able to slice it into three pieces (we probably could've done four) and freeze it. I don’t have very many fish recipes, most of my recipes come from my mom and we weren’t big fish eaters, but I am a fan of allrecipes.com and have found lots of great recipes using it. That is where tonight’s recipe comes from; we had teriyaki salmon, brown rice, and salad.

The recipe calls for four salmon steaks, but as previously mentioned, I’m using a fillet. I’ve never used the recipe so I didn’t tweak the measurments, I’d probably half it next time. But it turned out really good and my hubby liked it and said he’d eat it again!

Teriyaki Salmon

½ cup: vegetable oil (I used olive oil)

¼ cup: soy sauce (I used low-sodium)

¼ cup: lemon juice

1 tsp: ground ginger (I used this fabulous ginger paste that you can find in the refrigerated section of the produce area)

1 tsp: dry mustard

¼ tsp: garlic powder (I used a little more, because we like garlic)

4 salmon steaks

Place salmon in a Ziploc bag, and add the ingredients above and let marinade for an hour. Place the salmon on a foil-lined broiler pan and set marinade aside. Cook salmon under broiler for 3-5 minutes, flip and brush with marinade, then brush with marinade and cook for another 5 minutes (or until fish flakes easily with a fork).

It was super easy and we’ll be having it again!

Stand Still

I am constantly amazed at how fast time is slipping away, seemingly leaving me behind. In a little more than a week, I’ll be another year older. In a little more than two months, Ayden should’ve been having his 1^st birthday. In a little more than four months, I will have reached a milestone I wouldn’t have thought possible a few months ago… I will have lived an entire year without my son. I have been living in this dark hell for one year; and it’s just the beginning. In the months that have gone by since losing Ayden, I have barely left the house. We’d go grocery shopping at two a.m., I lost my composure and we had to leave multiple restaurants. I was Baker Acted. We haven’t spent more than five minutes in Ayden’s room, it looks more like we’re expecting a baby than that we lost one. I have cycled through anger, guilt, sadness, depression, hopelessness, happy, and a plethora of other emotions; but mostly I’m just surviving, going through the motions of my life. I’ve lost most or all contact with my family and my best friend, and time has stopped for none of this.  Time keeps going, the world keeps turning, people keep moving, despite our grief. I feel like I’ve been stuck, standing in the same place for a year; I feel like the person that got left behind… and no one even noticed. I don’t know why this is or where to place the blame, I just know its how I feel and what I think and experience all the time. Don’t get me wrong, I have people I know are there for me that I can count on; but that number has dwindled, closer to zero than ten.

On a brighter note… I’m trying out a new salmon recipe tonight! Will be sharing if it’s good! Have a fabulous end to your weekend and remember to tell the ones you love that you love them!

Project Update!

I wanted to do an update of my furniture and décor projects to get you up to speed. I haven’t painted anything yet; I wanted to get the sanding out of the way so I could just throw myself into the fun creative stage.

The first thing I sanded was a foot stool; it is now completely stripped and ready to be transformed. I have this idea in my head of it becoming extremely girly and princess-themed. Next was my hanging shelf. I want to paint this an off-white, make it a little distressed looking, and maybe do some apple stenciling so it will fit right into my kitchen. I have also thought about butterfly stenciling and putting it in our bathroom. Next was the mirror, which had been painted twice and primed in between, it seemed to take forever to get down to wood. I’m thinking black for the mirror, with some silver damask scrollwork and a nice, light green on the inside of the frame and the black parts that are not sanded yet because I haven’t gotten my Dremel, it’s coming on my birthday though! And last night I started on my dresser, my biggest project thus far, I’m still undecided on what to do with the dresser but I’m sure I’ll think of something. I hope you are having a beautiful day and have a great weekend!

Dreaming of You

I’ve had a bad last couple of days. I had dreams about Ayden, when he was on life support, with tubes and tape all over him. I still feel guilty about not spending more time at his bedside, but seeing my baby in a coma, machines keeping him alive; it was heart wrenching. I couldn’t spend a lot of time in the PICU anyway, because there was crying. Crying still bothers me, but it shredded my soul during Ayden’s time in the hospital… I knew from the beginning I’d never hear my son cry again (the way I knew his birthday would be 9/28 and I’d have a C-section from the very beginning of my pregnancy, I just had this feeling). All I wanted was for him to cry, he never did, and he never will again. I was told by nurses that some mothers can’t go into their children’s rooms, not that I was leaps and bounds better, but I was in there; I did the best I could. I barely left the hospital, but being in Ayden’s room was the hardest place to be. Sometimes in my dreams Ayden will wake up, years older and I wake up feeling guilty about our decision to take him off life support, wondering “What if?”  But most of the time it’s just like the ones I’ve had the past couple of days,  Ayden in a dark, shadowy version of his hotel room, so small in the big bed. I just stand there looking at his forced, machine-assisted breathing, the tubes, the tape, drowning in the feeling that this isn’t my baby anymore, my baby is gone, and then my knees buckle. I wake up and the guilt, the crying, the what-ifs swallow me whole.  

I Miss You

When I was younger (10-ish) my mom used to say “You look like you lost your best friend!” when I was sad. I always hated that saying, I’m not sure why, maybe because it was said a lot? But now I feel like I have truly lost my best friend. We haven’t seen or spoken to each other in weeks, and any interaction we have had has been on Facebook, apparently liking a picture or a post is much easier than taking those same two seconds to text me a simple “Hey”.

The rift is my fault, I know that, I gladly accept the blame; I KNOW I WAS WRONG! But how long am I supposed to try? I’ve tried everything I can think of and… nothing. I get a “Like” on the cute best friend pictures I post on her wall, I get “got it :-)” when I texted to say I got a new number, my requests to hang out get ignored. We’re supposed to be best friends, we need each other, and I just can’t deal with getting hurt by her. I suppose it’s kind of like my mom, how many times can you reach out just to get pushed away again? Short of kidnapping her, tying her up, and making her talk to me (promise this is a joke)… I have no clue what to do!

Her mom passed away recently, and I was selfish. I let all my problems get under my skin; I had a complete meltdown getting ready for her mother’s memorial. Then one more problem occurred and I said screw it, I made my husband text her, and I went to bed. I realize how awful this was, but I don’t have a re-do button; I can’t do it over again and be the friend I should’ve been. All I can do is try to fix it, but it can’t be one-sided and that’s what I feel my efforts are. Relationships (whether they’re friendships or romantic relationships) are all about give and take, meeting people halfway, and both people being willing to put in the effort; things will never work with one person putting in more effort than the other. I’m just at my wit’s end and having people fade from my life seems natural now, how horrible is that? 

And I want to publicly thank my husband for being so wonderful to me today (and every day!) and making me happy during a REALLY bad day. I love you and don’t know what I’d do without you! XOXO

Meltdown

Today was payday which means a trip to Sam's Club to stock up on meat and other things that make sense for us to buy in bulk. Both Tom and I  forgot our cards so Tom went to wait in line at customer service to get a temporary card...and I went to look at books! And after seeing and wanting Jodi Picoult's new book, I went to look at jewelry, because the hubby was still in line. I was looking at necklace and earrings with my birthstone in them, and smiled when I saw the same set with Ayden's birthstone right next to it. Then I heard the sound that I have come to hate above all others... a child crying. I look up to see a father holding a screaming, crying one year old who is doing the screaming and crying because his mother won't carry him... I completely lost it. I abandoned my cart in the maze of DVDs and went to get Tom, who was still in line at customer service. He looked at me and knew that we needed to get out of there. I found my way to the car through the blur of tears and once I was inside...I let go. I cried because honestly I would do anything for my son to just be able to have the option of wanting me over his father. I cried because my son isn't here for me to hold. Period. I cried because that little boy gets to be one year old, and he gets to go to the store; Ayden doesn't. Sometimes these realization just catch me at the right moments and I'm brought to my knees; its getting easier to pick myself up, but I still find myself on the floor sooner or later.

Patience Is A Virtue... Damn, I Wish I Was More Virtuous

I’ve been wondering what if these first 8 intensive weeks of Vitex and everything else I’m taking don’t work, what’s my next step? I suppose that the next step should be temping and ovulation tests. It’s little overwhelming, especially since Ayden was a surprise. He was a wonderful, amazing surprise…but a surprise he was. Taking 6 different pills, two of them twice a day, is surreal enough for me. Don’t misunderstand I realize how difficult conceiving with PCOS can be; I understand the stress, the physical and emotional toll it takes and the desperate desire to be a parent. I just don’t want to be TTC anymore, I want to be pregnant (if you couldn’t tell, patience is not my forte). I just want to have a baby so bad, to help fill my empty arms, to help keep me from diving head first into the huge hole in my heart, to be able to experience everything I should’ve with Ayden. I realize being pregnant and having another baby is going to be extremely hard but at the same time I need it. I need to fill in this hole. I know Ayden is irreplaceable but I’m pretty sure having his little sister or brother will make the pain more bearable; surely it’s better to grieve with half-full arms as opposed to empty ones.

Wake Me Up When September Ends

I’ve been thinking about Ayden’s birthday more and more. It’s over two months away but it scares me. I don’t know if I’m going to completely fall apart or if I’m going to be my weird version of okay. My money’s on falling apart… but who knows. Since Ayden’s passing we try to be more charitable, and for obvious reasons charities that benefit children and Ronald McDonald House Charities are close to our hearts. We donated the Christmas presents we bought for Ayden. We have a large vase we collect soda can tabs in for RMHC. We talk about making dinner for the families at our local RMH, I thought about doing this for Ayden’s birthday, but I think it would be painful; to remember the best day of my life in the place I had the worst days of my life. So I looked at other alternatives, maybe we’ll donate a few things from their wish list or donate to the share-a-night program. Those seem like better things than spending a prolonged amount of time in a place filled with bad memories, I would no doubt be forced to relive.

I think I just want to spend the day with Tom. I want to go to the beach and let a bunch of balloons go, so that maybe my angel will see them and know that his birthday, even though it’s bittersweet, is still important to us. I thought about making a special dinner and a cake, but then I realized that’s what I do for Tom on his birthday; that’s what I’d do for Ayden on his birthday…but I can’t. So maybe we’ll just order pizza, I don’t think it would be a good day to go out and see babies; although, it would not be the first time I had a meltdown and pretty much ran out of a restaurant.

Tat Chat

I was thinking about what kind of post I should do next, I wanted it to be something happy after all the down, and so the idea for my “Tat Chat” came about.

I have three tattoos, and will have more. I love my tattoos because they all have meaning, they’re not just a picture I liked; they’re illustrations of my personality. These are my tattoos and the story behind each of them… Please feel to share yours as well!

I got my first tattoo when I was 18. I had permission to do it sooner, I had the paper work, but I just couldn’t do it (needle phobia!). I knew what I wanted when I was 15 and at 18 I finally wanted to do it. The fact that my mom was out of town and wouldn’t be going with me (and adding her commentary to my decision making) may also have given me a little push. 

These are three Kanji (Japanese) characters meaning love, trust, and friendship; the three most important things in life (in my humble opinion). I’d like to add to the list down the road.

My second tattoo is a stylized claddagh. When I was younger I always wanted to go to Ireland, a dream that actually came true, every geography report I had to do in middle school was about Ireland in some way so my love of the claddagh started pretty early. When I went to Ireland when I was 15 I bought a ring (that I wear to this day) and when I had a gift card to the tattoo parlor burning a hole in my purse when I was 19, a claddagh seemed like a good choice. The hands symbolize friendship, the heart love, and the crown loyalty. The four knots in the middle represent my mom, my brother, my husband, and my best friend; they’ll always be in my heart (I know *vomit* but if something’s going to be on me forever it has to have meaning). I had a different artist, from the same shop, do my claddagh and I was super happy with her work and she was just a really cool person and I really never want to get tattooed by anyone else. It was a no-brainer that I’d go to her for Ayden’s tattoo.

I always knew I’d get a tattoo for Ayden. I always imagined it would be his cute little footprint inked forever on my foot with his name under it in a nice script. Never in my wildest dreams did I think Ayden’s tattoo would be in memoriam.

Ayden’s tattoo is an angel panda, with his first and middle names, and his birth and “angel” days. One of Ayden’s nicknames was panda, my brother and his friends all have animal nicknames (Bat, Yak, Bambi) because they’re first names rhyme with that animal. Since Ayden didn’t rhyme with any animal he was dubbed Ayden the Panda; and it suited him, he was very cuddly, so it stuck. When I was talking to Jen (the tattoo artist) about what I wanted we went over everything with a lot of detail, she wanted this to be perfect for me. She told me to go to a website to find a font that I like, she went through a few pages with me, she told me to look more at home and email her with what I like so she could add it to her sketches. I saw a font I liked and said so, she said “Ok well keep looking and make sure. But if that’s the one you decide on just email me and say ‘Jen I like…’” she looks at the name of the font “Shit Happens”. She just looked at me and said “Wow, that’s bad” and my husband and I just started laughing. What else could you do with that? It was weirdly fitting, it was a simple truth we knew all too well, and I think that’s why I still chose it for a majority of the lettering in Ayden’s name.

Happy Ending!

Four days ago we were coming home from WalMart around 5 a.m. and almost hit two dogs, we live in the country and streetlights are few and far between. We turned around to make sure they were ok, I’m an animal lover, if I had my way my house would probably be a zoo, and we also had a dog get out of our yard get hit on the same road so I had to do something. One of the dogs ran off and one, a male pitbull, jumped in my lap. He came home with us, we slowly introduced him to our dogs, first our female Juliet, then our male Romeo, and then both of them together. They got along pretty well, there were no real issues, and we put up a found ad on craigslist. My husband brought him around to the houses in the area we found him and everyone said they’d seen him around for a while but didn’t know where he belonged. We decided we’d hang on to him, he was an excellent dog, and if we didn’t find his owner we’d just adopt him into our family. Well the boys were a little rough with each other and this morning I noticed a few bites on Romeo’s chest. Then the husband caught the end of a scuffle and Romeo had a cut under his eye, it was becoming obvious we couldn’t keep Diesel, not when Romeo was getting hurt. Driving home yesterday afternoon we thought we saw the other dog in someone’s yard, but since it was dark the first time we weren’t sure, but Tom drove Diesel over there to see if that was where he belonged… and it was! Diesel, whose real name is Zone, was so, so happy to see his owner. Zone is his son’s dog and he’s been so upset since Zone pulled his disappearing act. Everyone is happy!

Wishing For Two Lines...

In addition to trying to conceive (TTC) after SIDS, I am also TTC with PCOS. PCOS is poly-cystic ovarian syndrome, it is a condition in which there is an imbalance of a woman's female sex hormones, and affects an estimated 10% of all women. This hormone imbalance may cause changes in the menstrual cycle, acne, small cysts in the ovaries, difficulty conceiving, high blood pressure, and other problems. It is treatable, but not curable, and sufferers have to rely on themselves for the long-term management of their condition. I went from the ages of 14-17 without a single period, I finally got up the courage to go see an OB/GYN, and was diagnosed with PCOS. I was prescribed prometrium to force a period and then was on birth control to regulate my cycle. I was using the NuvaRing when I got pregnant with Ayden.

After Ayden was born, obviously birth control was a must and because we were planning on waiting a couple years before having another baby I chose the IUD Paragard. That didn’t go as planned, my uterus was tipped forward after my C-section and the IUD was placed into my uterine wall…OMG! The pain the next day was insane, I felt like I was in labor again, I couldn’t take care of Ayden so poor hubby had to stay up and take care of both of us. When I finally heard back from the on call nurse she told me to go to the hospital, but seeing as it was 5 a.m. I could wait and go straight into the office and they’d squeeze me in. They did an ultrasound, saw what had happened, removed it, and offered to re-insert another one under ultrasound a week later. I decided on pills because my breast-feeding efforts had failed and that was the main reason for choosing the IUD.Then everything with Ayden happened and I just kind of started forgetting my birth control, like I’d forget to eat, or that I had laundry in the washing machine.

So now I’m at 6 months with no period, and more negative pregnancy tests than I can remember. A friend of mine who also has PCOS (albeit worse than me, as she was told she could not have children) was given natural vitamins and supplements by her stepmother who got pregnant using them… Our friend is now 11 and a half weeks pregnant. She gave me the list and her left over pills for my maternity clothes.

It has been one month today, so we tested because a couple things shouldn’t be taken during pregnancy, and we got another negative. I didn’t expect it to happen as quickly as it did for my friend but still, in the back of my mind there was a teensy-tiny bit of hope. I’ll test again at the end of the week and if it’s still negative, we’ll see how it goes next month

Sometimes We Expect More From Others, Because We Would Be Willing To Do That Much For Them

I haven’t spoken to my mother or brother since we moved out in February. Well that’s not entirely true, I went back for a few things we forgot and to clean up our bedroom, I tried to talk to my mother and got nothing back. When I knocked and my brother answered the door, he just stared at me and pointed to my mom’s bedroom when I asked where she was.

Granted, I hurt my mom. I wrote her a letter before we moved out, basically telling her I really didn’t want anything to do with my brother, or her. She just hurt me so much and I didn’t have room for more hurting.

So you may say well what did your mother do that was so horrible? Well it wasn’t any one thing. It was years of built up little things. It was my mother not being the mother I needed after Ayden died, it was my mother yet again picking my brother over me, and it was her ignoring me and being cold after I got into a fight with my brother. My mom was great in the hospital; she was supportive, she fielded phone calls and kept everyone up to date, and then Ayden was gone. She and my fiancé (now husband) both took a week off of work, we had the memorial, we went to the funeral home, we ordered Ayden’s “urn”, and I feel like I started slowly adjusting to reality.

And I feel like my mom made no effort to help me. She didn’t drag me out of my bedroom to watch a movie, she didn’t try to get me to go shopping, and she didn’t try to talk to me. After I got out of the mental health facility, in fact the night I got released, I got into a fight with my brother at the dinner table. My brother’s dog has this annoying habit of sitting under the table when they eat, and he sat on my feet that night and I wanted him off. I nudged him and he moved to my fiancé’s feet, my fiancé nudged him and my brother went off on this tirade about my fiancé kicking his dog , I couldn’t deal with it so I got up and left (one of my new techniques for remaining in control of my emotions I got instructed on during my time away). I came back out for seconds after I had finished my plate and my brother was still being a dick and asked my mother for the bread basket when it was sitting right in front of my fiancé. I got mad at him for being so ridiculous so I picked up the basket and set it in front of him…and accidentally knocked over his drink. He and my mother flipped out and started yelling at me, I said “It was an accident,” picked up my brothers drink and poured it all in his plate, and said “there, now you actually have a reason to be mad at me” and walked away.

My mother went and comforted my brother and then stopped talking to me, or even acknowledging my presence in the house. My mom started cooking for her and my brother, not all four of us, even though we contributed to the grocery buying and I began to feel like an unwelcome stranger in what I thought would always be the place I’d consider home. Tom and I moved out as soon as his next payday came around and aside from the three words exchanged when I went back, we haven’t spoken in any form since.

Depression: The Never-Ending Battle

So my last post was about time, about how it’s moving so fast while I’m stuck in slow motion. This post is about depression. This is personal, this is raw, this is my experience, and it may or may not be like anyone else’s.

I’ve struggled depression most of my life. I’d need to use my toes to count the number of counselors, therapists, psychiatrists, and psychologists I’ve seen over the course of 11 years. It started when I was 10; I saw a counselor and things got better for a while. In middle school, I started cutting myself. Not the way you think of, I wasn’t trying to kill myself, I wanted to have a reason to hurt. All the internal hurting didn’t make sense, I don’t like to talk, and I needed a visual of my pain… I needed something to make sense. My hands, my arms, my calves, my ankles, they’re covered in scars. Some of them, like the “J” you can’t really see anymore, have meaning…others are just lines, a road map of hurt covering my body. I have been on an antidepressant of some sort since I was 16, I have thought about suicide more than you can imagine, and I was extremely worried about this when I was pregnant with Ayden. I’ve always heard awful things about post-partum depression and women who deal with depression are more susceptible to it. My midwife was great and talked to me about it and agreed we shouldn’t play with fire and I started taking Prozac in the hospital. I had the baby blues but nothing terrible.

We moved in with my mom and younger brother after Ayden passed; I just couldn’t be in our house. After losing Ayden, I think I was just in shock. My brain and my heart seemed to agree that exposing me to all the pain at once would kill me. Then everyday it hurt a little more and the fact that Ayden was gone, that he was not coming back sunk in a little deeper. And then I snapped. The day before Ayden should’ve turned 4 months old, I was having a bad day, my husband and I went to go get pizza, and I just wanted out. I wanted out of the car, out of my life, out of this existence… I tried to open the car door while we were going down the road. My husband grabbed me, held on to me, and that just made me madder. We got home and I just let all the anger I’d been keeping bottled up inside out, but I didn’t do it in a very constructive way. My fiancé (now husband) had me Baker Acted. Then I spent three days in a stabilization unit… I hit bottom. I kept having to tell people why I was there, and then get “the look”; the one where you know the other person is thinking, “Poor girl. What do I even say to that?” When I got out three days later I was feeling better, being out of the mental hospital probably had a lot to do with that. They tweaked my medication and my lows haven’t been that bad since.

All of this is why I’m worried about the upcoming anniversaries. What if I snap again? What if I hurt my husband again? What if I have to go back to the mental health facility? What if I do something stupid? I’m just hoping my hubby and my friends can help keep me together through them.

Wondering why I didn’t mention my family helping me? That’s coming up next…

Asthenia

I’ve been having a rough past couple of days. The Fourth of July did it I think. I’ve always associated the 4^th with my impending birthday. Last year I turned 21, I was very pregnant, and Ayden’s baby shower was the weekend after my birthday. There aren’t any big holidays or birthdays between my birthday and Ayden’s. I can’t believe he’d be almost a year old, I can’t believe that instead of planning a 1^st birthday party, I’m worrying about how September 28^th 2012 is going to go. I’m terrified that I’m going to just fall completely apart. Then… the thought of his “angel day” coming so quickly behind it comes creeping into my head and it chills the shattered pieces of my heart. Surely that day is going to be awful as well, I worry about that day too.

I can’t believe how fast time moves, everything seems like it was just yesterday. It feels like I was just worrying and wondering how Christmas would be, and now the year’s more than half over. When I think about that, how much time has passed, I can’t believe I’m here. I can’t believe I’ve lasted this long with my heart as broken as it is. It seems impossible. SO much has happened to me, to my husband, to our families, and Ayden hasn’t been here for any of it; which in some cases is a good thing, but still, it’s the principle of the matter.

…Ok, I’m not going to leave you hanging. My next couple of posting will go into better detail of what has happened since Ayden’s passing.

Our First Yard Sale Weekend

So I recently decided I need a hobby. I need something to do that I don’t hate (i.e. laundry, dishes, etc.). Something I always talked about doing with my mom, but never did, was make Ayden a dresser. Meaning we’d go garage sale-ing, find a cheap dresser, strip it, and give it an awesome makeover. Well I thought I could do it to start replacing our furniture. I enjoy being creative, I always have. And this will be creative and time consuming, which is exactly what I need. I got laid off very early in my pregnancy with Ayden, and I am still unemployed so I have lots of time at the moment.

So this paycheck, we had some extra money. We drove around for a few hours Friday morning after my husband got of work and we did pretty well. We spent $20 on the dresser and $3 on the mirror. Not sure what I’m going to do with the mirror after I strip it down, and I’m torn between just staining the dresser a little darker and changing the hardware or painting it (because I have an awesome idea).

Then Saturday morning we picked up a cool storage seat, a shelf that can be hung on the wall, a table and two chairs and a cute little foot stool.

I was super excited about our $15 table and chairs, now we can get rid of our dining room table. I hate that table, every time I look at it unwelcome emotions, memories, and images flood my head. I hear the panic in my hubby’s voice when he found Ayden, I replay the 911 call I made, I see my husband giving CPR to our son who is not moving, and I remember my hysterical ride in the ambulance. Needless to say, I will be very happy to see that table go. I want to keep the table and chairs light, just spruce them up a little bit.

Dinner and Dessert

So the hubby and I are trying to eat better, last night's dinner wasn't the healthiest thing but I did get hubby to eat asparagus!

Tortellini in Alfredo Sauce

• 1 1/2 tbsp : butter
• 1 tbsp: olive oil
• 1 cup: heavy cream
• 2 cloves: garlic
• 1/4 cup: grated parmesan cheese
• 1/2 cup: mozzarella cheese
• a dash of cayenne pepper
• 1 package: Buitoni tortellini (I used 4 Cheese)

Start preparing the pasta according to package directions.
Melt butter, olive oil, and garlic in a fairly large skillet on medium heat. Once melted stir in cream and stir frequently and bring to a simmer. Stir in parmesan, once sauce has thickened, stir in the mozzarella. Throw in a dash or two, depending our your personal tastes, of cayenne and stir sauce until smooth. Drain pasta, toss in the sauce, and serve.

Now for dessert! Again not insanely healthy but it was really yummy!

 

Baked Peaches with Vanilla Ice Cream

• 2 peaches, halved and pitted
• 1 tbsp: butter, softened
• 1 tsp: cinnamon
• 1/2 tbsp: sugar
• a drizzle of honey

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Place peaches skin side down in a small glass pan, spread with butter, and then sprinkle remaining ingredients over them. Bake for 20-30 minutes. Let them cool for 10 minutes. Slide skin off, place two halves in a bowl and place a scoop of ice cream on top...you can then spoon the sauce from the pan on top...mmm

Cutting people out of my life is easy now...

There is a list on this blog (http://lifeaftersids.blogspot.com) called: Things I Have Learned Since Losing My Son. Number 30 and a recent issue inspired this...

The sun is gone.

What use are stars?

There are millions of stars

Far off, distant, faded away before we even see their light

There was only one sun

It was bright, warm, something that should’ve lasted forever

Trying to remember a time before the everlasting dark is difficult

But we mustn’t forget, to surrender to the dark is not an option

How Can One Live Without The Son

I always imagined telling Ayden that the day he was born was the scariest day of my life. I was being induced, he was getting distressed, and I had to have an emergency C-section. My fiancé, who is now my husband, was outside on the phone and I was getting quickly introduced to the doctor who’d be performing the surgery. I was shaking uncontrollably and all I could focus on was making sure I DID NOT get an epidural (yes, I had two tattoos, now three and I’m still terrified of needles). My mom made sure they understood this and I don’t think I’d ever been more grateful of her. My husband came in while I was about to be moved and I’m pretty sure he turned completely white when he saw seven people around me instead of just my midwife and my nurse. I got asked questions I cannot for the life me remember by the anesthesiologist, I somehow got myself on the operating table, the last thing I remember before waking up is my nurse holding my hand, telling me everything was going to be fine, that I’d wake up and see my son.

I slowly came out from under the anesthesia in the recovery room and heard nurse talking to my husband, giving him a lesson in feeding Ayden a bottle until I was conscious and could breastfeed. When I woke all the way up, I got moved back to my room and the rest of our hospital stay was uneventful, pretty good even. Aside from a little jaundice, our Ayden was perfect. He started trying to hold up his head at twelve hours hold, by his one month “birthday” he was scooting and holding himself up on his hands, and he started smiling a couple weeks before he was two months old. Ayden was adored and he was the center of our universe.

My husband found Ayden not breathing on November 28^th, the day he turned two months old. I won’t go into all the details but Ayden was brought back, but with severe swelling in his brain. We spent five hellish days in the hospital while they ran tests and I’d fall apart at the sight or sound of a baby, which is hard to avoid in the PICU, because in my gut I knew what was going to happen. We had amazing support in the hospital from family and friends and after three nights of sleeping on the floor we were able to get a room at the Ronald McDonald House. We were given the worst possible news by the neurologist; our son was not coming back. We made the decision to take him off the ventilator and we also made arrangements for Ayden to be an organ donor. Once my husband’s brothers both got into town, it was time to let go. Everyone who wanted to, got to hold him, unfortunately for my husband’s family…this was the first time they’d seen him. Ayden got held by everyone who loved him most, his grandparents, great-grandparents, god parents, uncles, me and my husband was holding him when he passed away. He held on for eight hours and then became an angel.

We’ll never have answers and that’s one of the hardest things. We don’t know why this happened to our angel. We’ll always be plagued with horrible memories we would rather forget, while we try desperately to hold on to the good. We also recently decided to try to pregnant, which comes with a whole other range of emotions…but we’ll talk about this later.

Anyway I just wanted to share a little about Ayden and my SIDS experience. My heart breaks for you if you have also had a SIDS experience and I hope you know you are not alone!

~* Ayden, our panda bear, our angel, you are truly missed each and every day and loved until the end of time*~

Intro (AKA: Imaginary Interview)

*Hey Meghan, why a blog?

So glad you asked!  I’m not a “talker”, I’m a “bottle-it-upper”. The idea of talking to a support group makes me cringe. However…I can write. I like to write and I consider myself good at it. And I need an outlet and maybe me going through my journey will inspire, encourage, comfort or help someone else…that is what I hope for.

*Very intriguing. So what exactly is this journey?

Well this is why this blog is called Tear Stained: To Hell and Back. On December 4, 2011 my two month-old son became an angel. As any mother will know, this is your worst nightmare. I live it, every day, a nightmare. I have struggled with depression since I was fairly young, but nothing can compare to the deep, dark hell I am in day after day. Recently, I have decided that I can’t succumb to the darkness. My son wouldn’t want that, my husband doesn’t want that, and people I care about, who care about me wouldn’t want that either. I have to take control and I have to be strong and I have to move forward. I need to find myself and become more than a ghost of my former self.

*Wow. So what can I expect to see in this blog?

Obviously there will be emotional posts. But I’m hoping this will be a happy place, I love to cook and be crafty so there will be lots to do with that too. My husband and I are looking into relocating because we are living in the house where our son passed away and I would love to have a completely fresh start. There are so many memories, good and bad, attached to so many things in the house that I really want to replace all our furniture, so lots of posts will be devoted to decorating…I hope you stick around to see what comes up!