I will show you that surviving can be beautiful.

 I recently saw a trend on tiktok. There's usually a powerful/emotional song playing in the background and the caption states " share a picture of yourself at your lowest point in life and nobody knew."

I really started to think about mine.

And I scrolled through my camera roll, and here's mine.November 2019.

Have you ever seen those images that say: "Be kind, because everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about?"

I feel I'm a walking billboard for that.

PSA:I live this life that people just can’t really understand until they walk in my shoes. And on a regular basis , I am bound to write something that is going to make people wince…cringe and ‘re-think’ who I am and what I represent and all the other things I didn't ask for. And this is one of those things. There may be some triggers to others in this post.

Everyone around me knows our story of Samuel, so of course they knew I was grieving, hurting and struggling.But I don't think anyone knew to what extent. And this blog will probably be the first time they will actually know .

Two months after Samuel, I thought I cried all the tears I possibly could. But my sadness turned into something more dark.  I tried turning a negative situation into something positive by donating my breastmilk.  Being a donor, I couldn't  be on the medications my doctor prescribed for depression and PTSD. Donating the milk was a special day for me, it made me feel proud and the acknowledgement I received covered my wounds for awhile. But soon the news interviews were over, and I truly realized how broken I was.  All the "positives" turned out to be nothing more than a bandaid on the wound.Although my body was healing, my heart was not.

Every night I would write in my grief journal, and purposely leave it out, hoping Lee would sneak a peek. Maybe then he would swoop in and save me from myself. But he never did. And I couldn't let anyone see what a broken person I was.

I was ready to try for another baby, Lee was not on board. I wondered if he would ever be on board. So because we couldn't see eye to eye on that, and because his grief seemed to disappear faster,I felt my marriage failing, even though he probably had no idea I was feeling that way. Hating my body, I was missing the physical connection . I was actually missing every single connection with him. And one night we hit our breaking point. Boundaries were crossed and I was broken all over again. And that night, was the first night in 9 years that I felt my inner demons show themselves.. After leaving to decompress and coming back home , I stood in my bathroom , hunched over the counter crying. Gasping for air. Thinking about how nothing could hurt as much as my heart did . I wanted  the pain to stop. To be relieved. I was telling myself nothing was getting better, things were only getting worse. This isn't what I had pictured for myself. For my marriage. For my family. I cried and asked God why he thought I could handle this life, because I most certainly could not. Why would he chose me. It isn't fair. This was my rock bottom. I thought of death often. I thought about how easy it would have been to take my bottle of sleeping medications and just not wake up.But I didn't want to die. I just wanted the pain to stop, I didn't want to exist in a world where babies die , and families split up. 

I then crawled into my daughter's bedroom and watched over her while she slept. I cried myself to sleep that night in her rocking chair.  I cried because I wonder how I could even think those thoughts when I had a beautiful daughter who needs me here. I cried because I wondered when I would feel normal again and the sense of hopelessness would just leave. I cried because I didn't know who I could talk to . I wasn't the only person in this world with struggles, and my close friends were all going through their own struggles. My pride was too strong to burden anyone with such foolishness. And I think that's when I realized I wasn't in just a stage of grief anymore, this was something more.

Flash forward to 2020.

I was slowly turning into this person I didn't recognize.

A helicopter Mom, watching and gasping at every move of my oldest child because I already buried one baby and I'd be damned if I did it again.My anxiety became crippling.Between my anxiety, depression and the constant act of pretending to be okay, I was exhausted. I had everything I could have wanted. A beautiful family, a career, a home. I live a good, comfortable life. But I was absolutely broken inside.And I held myself together, and would never let others down. I did my best to be there for everyone, anytime. No matter what battle I was fighting. But now I see, I held it too much together and people stopped noticing I was still struggling. And that's where I let myself down.

When these feelings became too much,  I started to drop subtle hints or send out the slightest cries for someone to notice. I'd send occasional texts to some, saying things like "I think I'm broken" or "I'm having a hard time". I felt more clingy, asking family members to come over and hang out(even though didn't really want to be around anyone).  But noone picked up on these messages, and you would never find me being straight forward with anyone. I was ashamed. 

In February, we got the confirmation that we were expecting our rainbow baby. Exactly what my heart needed. Although this brought on a new kind of anxiety, it brought me a lot of joy. A new happiness and outlook on this life. And it was then I knew I could no longer wait on someone to rescue me. I needed to save myself.But then the shut down of 2020 happened. And after a few weeks of that, I felt myself slipping into another depression. 

In April, we anxiously awaited the phone call of tests results of our baby. We got the call, and everything checked out amazing. And we were over joyed with the news that we were awaiting the arrival of a BABY GIRL. I really knew, it was time to pull myself together, for real this time. Because being a good mom and wife while my heart was breaking was the hardest roll I've ever played and I wasn't up for the challenge anymore.

And a fast forward to August 2020. I was diagnosed with: PTSD, Severe depression, Generalized Anxiety, and Social Anxiety. And was then referred to a psychotherapist .

Hearing this diagnosis was a very hard pill to swallow. Did it surprise me? Not at all. But coming forward and telling my husband was something that was very embarrassing to me. I was no longer the person he originally fell in love with. But that's what happens. Trauma changes people. And I was changing.

I've come to terms that I will never be who I was before Samuel. His life and death has changed me in more ways than I ever thought possible.  But I have made a promise to myself, for both me and my family to get back to healthy. My goal is to love life again. To slow down and enjoy what is right in front of me. To appreciate what I have. But my biggest goal? It's to love myself again. And I'm not talking about my appearance. I'm talking forgiveness. Forgive myself for blaming myself for Samuel's death. Forgive myself for my bad days. I'm talking Acceptance. Accepting this is my life now. Accepting this new life we are building and letting go of my old one.  And I have finally accepted the help I need to get to this new state of mind.

I guess you're probably wondering why I would share something so personal...

Well, I share because writing is the only way to share what's on my mind. I share it because I'm not alone. You may not be able to relate to all of the things in the post, but I guarantee one can relate to at least one word, one sentence, one feeling. And if you did, I want you to know its okay to not be okay all the time.  Its okay to feel concerned about your future, overwhelmed . It's okay to want to be alone, uninterested, angry, confused. It's okay to be negative, fatigued, uncomfortable. IT'S ALL OKAY. 

And it's okay to need help to escape these feelings and find normal again.

I am healing. It doesn't happen over night, or clearly not just in a year either. But I'm healing. And working on being the best version of myself. I'm seeing the positive side of things more than I could. My chest doesn't feel so heavy most days. I'm a work in progress.

I don't know if I'll ever go back to who I was before it all. I don't think I even want to. I've been challenged. And I've been stretched into a new form. A new version of me And although I don't recognize myself in the mirror, i like the way I look now. I've been through hell and back again but it's prepared for what lies ahead of me. 

This is not my final destination. This is just a resting a spot on my long,hard journey. And soon I will climb these mountains that God has presented me with. And I know the destination will be worth the journey.

Nothing is more beautiful than the smile that has struggled through the tears.

"I won't' let my pain turn my heart into something ugly. I will show you that surviving can be beautiful"