The dark thoughts of grief

Grief, and Satan, have a way of placing really awful things in one's mind. Lately I've been thinking about all the negative things it has put in my head. I know a lot of it is Satan. A lot adds to my anxiety. And almost all isn't true. This is a deep and tough place to write from. But because of my belief in honesty and transparency, I feel it necessary. 

I have doubted myself as a wife and companion to Matt many times. I have questioned myself and who I was to Matt. And I have often felt like I wasn't good enough for him. I think this self-doubt stems from the fact that I don't have Matt here to reassure me. It's been 5 months now since Matt passed. And I haven't had his daily compliments for that long. I sometimes think that Matt left because of me. I think to myself that he stopped fighting because he didn't believe in the love I have for him. I doubt myself and wonder if I complimented him enough. Praised him enough for who he was. Expressed my love for him enough. I wonder if he got tired of me teasing him-even though that's what we did. How could he know how much I loved him when even I'm surprised how deep that love is? I think that maybe it's because he knew I'd be tired, get big, and be worn out from being pregnant. I wonder if he left because I wasn't a good enough wife or because I complained about housework. 

While these thoughts seem ridiculous even to me as I write them, they are thoughts that have come to mind since my wonderful husband passed away. There are things I know for certain. First, I know that Matt fought until the very end to stay here. I saw it in him. He's been  competitive his entire life, even up until the very end. I also know that I was a great wife to Matt. It's hard to praise myself but I am certain that Matt knew my heart was his. And I also know he adored me. He also loved watching me grow when I was pregnant with Olivia. He told me often how he thought I glowed and how he never found me more attractive as he did when I became a mom. I have a text saved from Matt from when I was pregnant with Olivia that says, "I honestly think you're more beautiful than ever right now. You're glowing. I don't know. Tough to explain." I know he would love to see me grow with Rylan and he would be SO happy about having a boy. 

These are things I have talked in depth with about to my therapist. I've learned that it's ok to let my mind go there and try and find a way to place blame. However, I have to stop these thoughts before they cycle negatively to panic and anxiety. I've learned that I have to pull apart my thoughts and focus on if they are opinion or fact. If they're just my opinion, I have to focus on what the facts are. And the fact is, Matt would be here, with me, with all of us, if he could be. 

During this month, I've sold our house and our rental house. Jen, my realtor, is someone Matt went to high school with and was great friends with. Because of his passing, Matt's friends have stepped up for me but because of Matt. She got me to this point with my houses. She's grieved with me and reassured me that I'm making the right decision. I'm so thankful for our friendship. 

I've faced so many difficult days since I lost Matt. Staying in our house was a challenge. But moving everything into storage was debilitating. I asked Matt's best friend, Eli, if he would mind getting some guys together to help me out with moving. I expected 3 or 4 to show up and help. But close to 10 guys gave up their Saturday and helped me. I drove to my house that morning and was humbled knowing these guys would be there. And I was, again, proud of Matt. He was true and loyal to so many. And in turn, these wonderful people are now my support. 

Moving day started out being manageable. I do better when there's a task in front of me. Everyone worked so hard. After taking the first truckload to storage, I came back to our house, and walked in to seeing it empty for the first time. I was so overwhelmed with memories. I sat on the floor in our empty great room and cried as I remembered the day we got keys to our house, I remembered the Christmas trees, snuggling on the couch with Matt, watching the Seahawks win the Super Bowl, remembered when Matt's entire plate of spaghetti slipped off his plate onto the coffee table and I laughed so hard. I remember bringing Maci home and wanting to strangle her as a puppy. I thought about when we brought Olivia home from the hospital and us watching her take her first steps. It's hard to focus on the fact that I'll always have those memories when I'm leaving behind such a monumental piece of Matt and me. The rest of the day I cried silent tears. I questioned whether or not I was making the right decision. And my heart felt as though it was breaking leaving our house. 

On our way back to my mom and dad's house, a few of us stopped at the new house to check out the construction progress. We walked through the beginning stage of framing and I was thankful for the timing of selling our house and building the new one. I stood in the master bedroom with great sadness but also peace knowing Matt would be happy with my decision. The smaller house, yard, and being closer to our parents is what I will need. I also know I'd feel isolated being 20-30 minutes from our families and Matt. He's laid to rest in Puyallup and the move will make visiting him so much easier. 

Many ask how they can pray for us. As of today, right now, we need prayers for health. My mom is sick and we are worried about her being around Rylan when he's born. She sees the doctor today so hopefully she starts feeling better soon. And I ask for prayers that Rylan GETS OUT! It is such a tough place of wanting Rylan here so desperately and also wanting to hold onto this pregnancy for as long as possible since I won’t have another baby with Matt. 

Valentine's Day and Spring

This time of year is usually a time I enjoy. Actually, any time the seasons change, I find happiness. But leading up to spring is a particular time of year that I love. It means that the flowers will bloom, the tress will be vibrant, the days get longer, there's Easter, my birthday, and our anniversary. This year brings a much different feeling.

Matt left us 4 months ago. Leading up to this point, I have felt even more worn out than I have in the previous months. I also knew Valentine's Day would come and the next day I would be facing this-4 months since Matt passed. 

Valentine's Day has never been a big deal in our relationship. Matt was really good about making me feel special and loved day to day. I never felt like I needed a holiday to know how he felt. However, this year, I found myself anxious and angry about Valentine's Day. I wanted to avoid it. My dad offered to take my mom and I out to a nice dinner. And I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay home with Olivia and pretend like it was any other day. I woke up with my heart feeling heavier than most days. I went and got Matt some flowers and a balloon. I sat next to him at the cemetery on a cardboard box and had a donut and coffee. In previous years, that's something we would do. We would get up, grab some coffee and some pastries, and go on a walk or a drive together. As I sat at the cemetery, I felt the immense loneliness. 

During my time with Matt yesterday, I talked to him about some our past Valentine's Days. The year Olivia was born, we made a nice dinner at home. We had lobster tails, steaks, wine, the works. I set the table with candles in our dining room and we ate off our China. The best part was that we were both in our pajamas admiring our one month old daughter. Matt looked at Olivia at one point and said, "eewwww! What's in her nose?!? Dani! Get it!" I looked at her to see the biggest booger coming out of her nose and we both laughed hysterically. 

In the last month, my mental capacity has reached its limit. I was brutally faced with the fact that I couldn't add one more thing to my plate. And yet, everyday seemed to bring something new. I experienced my first panic attack at MOPS in front of a large group of women. While I was extremely embarrassed, I also knew these women are there to support me. They want to love me and pray for me. They quickly stepped up and helped clean our rental house and current house because I can't do it. I've learned coping tools through therapy for how to stop a panic attack but also find myself coming close to them often. I'm learning that I can't solve everyone's problems and that its ok to say no. I've learned I can't be in public alone. I need someone there to be my buffer and protection. I've gone out alone only a couple times and I can feel my anxiety rise quickly. 

I have learned that grief is also a time of self-discovery. It's painful and awful and really hard. But I'm learning about myself things I never knew before. I am learning because I know I can't sit stagnant in life. I have to try and make the steps that are necessary to move forward. To me, it's meant selling both our houses, buying a new one, and trying to move ahead. By no means does this mean I am forgetting Matt. In fact, every decision I make, I think of how he would approach it. Matt was never one to just sit around and let life pass him by. He did things. Matt's life involved fairness, productivity, and motivation. I am trying to carry those characteristics out so that Olivia and Rylan can see and feel what their dad is like. 

One of the many things I loved about Matt was his ambition and zest to live life. We've all heard people say "life is short," "live each day like it's your last," and so on. I catch myself telling people those things. And I truly mean them. Matt had dreams. He had a bucket list which I recently found while packing our house. It seems like there can always be an excuse for not marking those items off that list. He would often tell me that we only get one chance at life. Enjoy it. Live it. I will say, Matt did live fully in his short 33 years. He experienced things and didn't forget the big moments or the little ones. 

Matt also knew that the minor stresses in life don't matter. I called Matt many times just to get his perspective. One time in particular, while planning our wedding, I had received the paper to make our invitations. When I opened the package, the nice pink I was expecting turned out to be highlighter pink. So bright. I crashed under the stress of planning a wedding and called Matt, crying. I can see him sitting at his desk at work, with a smirk on his face as I explained to him what was going on. He simply said "can you order more paper?" To which I said I could. And he said, "ok then, order more paper."

He had this approach about many, many situations. When the laundry was overflowing, when I got a speeding ticket, when Maci came running through the house with muddy paws...Matt always pointed out that life is too short. "Let's do the laundry together while we watch TV tonight"..."I believe you that you weren't speeding. Not a big deal. It's not worth being upset"..."she's a dog. She gets muddy. We can always have the carpets cleaned." I have been trying to adopt this approach, especially with Olivia. Life is too short to get upset over little things. 

I've found myself pulling back from the world. I notice that I am isolating. I become worried that I am upsetting and frustrating my family and friends. There's a reason, in my head, that I do this. I am broken. I feel like no one can relate to me. Matt's passing is always on my mind. I can carry on conversations and not talk about him. But it hurts so badly when he's not mentioned. I've heard people say they're afraid to talk about Matt to me. I know there's a fear of making it worse. Or causing more pain. I'll be the first to tell you, the pain can't get worse. I want to and need to know he's still thought of.

I've appreciated so much that people continue to reach out. I often feel overcome with loneliness. Everyone's lives continue to move forward. While I am doing my best to take steps to finding a way to live without Matt, it is incredibly hard. Everywhere I go and everything I do, brings a memory to my mind about Matt.

Grief Never Ends

I can't imagine all the new things I'll have learned during my life because of this experience. In just 3 months, I've already learned a tremendous amount. Some of it is shaping me into a different person. And some of it I hate that I've had to learn. All of it, I wish wasn't my life. 

Prior to losing Matt, I thought grief was just a phase. I thought you'd be sad for a while, that you'd go through the stages of grief, but eventually you'd find a way to move on. While some of this may be true, I've learned that the grief I am experiencing now will be carried with me for the remainder of my life. People don't just "get over" loss. Big and small, it remains with us forever.

One of the biggest challenges with my grief is the mixture of emotions that I am often faced with. I find that the excitement and deep pain and the happiness and the sadness are often happening at the same time. It's hard to manage one emotion while my world has been transformed. But dealing with the multiude of feelings is sometimes impossible. 

I'm in the process of buying a new home. While this seems like a quick change, it wasn't a terribly difficult decision. The weekend before Matt passed, we were driving around looking at new homes. He was getting burnt out from his long commute and managing the size of our yard and house. We sat in a park having donuts with Olivia. He told me "I can see us here." Something that day told me that neighborhood would be where our new home is. I've placed on offer on a lot/house I want. And it should be really exciting. I feel Matt in that neighborhood. I feel like he's guiding me and helping me. But it's also incredibly sad to be living out dreams alone that we had together. 

Leaving our house in Graham won't be easy. It wouldn't be easy even if he was here. That's the house we built together. We brought home a puppy, a baby, did lots of projects and made it our home. I have been home a few times now. Most days it's manageable. But recently, it has become really tough. 

I decided to have Olivia's 2nd birthday at our house. I knew it would be a tough day. At one point during the day, there were friends and family outside enjoying Matt's handiwork. Standing around the fire pit that he worked so hard to make, ice skating on our "pond," throwing his football, and listening to some of his favorite music on the deck we've been dreaming of since buying our house. I walked outside to give my dad something and was overwhelmed by what I saw, heard, and smelled. I couldn't even get down the deck stairs before having to sit down from crying. I sat there thinking how all of Matt's favorite people were enjoying all the things Matt loved. And how it's so unfair that he's gone.

When I was getting ready to leave the house that night, I ran upstairs to shut some windows I'd opened. I stood in our bedroom, having not been in there in the dark since he passed, and just sobbed. He will never be beside me in our bed again. As I walked downstairs of our empty house, I was so overcome by physical grief that I didn't know if I'd make it down the stairs. 

Some days I feel like I'm making steps and getting stronger. And other days are as painful as the day I held his hand and watched him die. These are the moments, in our house, that confirm in making the right decision to move. It will never, ever feel the same without him in it. I'm angry and bitter at home. I feel like all I had in Graham was my home, my baby, Maci, and my amazing husband. And without choice or warning, everything was taken from me. I know I could find a way to make it work to stay in our house, but I feel as though I'll never had what I had before. I'm angry to be packing up our home without Matt. I'm angry that I'm moving out and that he's not on this journey with me. But I know that he's coming with me wherever I go. His stuff is coming with me. And his presence will always be with me. 

I saw my therapist this week and we spoke about Matt and my kids and how this loss will affect them. It hit me that Olivia and Rylan will never know Matt. They will not have memories of their dad. And their norm will be completely different than most of their friends. I was heartbroken by this reality. The one person I want my kids to know, learn from, and look up to is Matt. And I'm angry and bitter that they won't have that chance. 

I've learned how I prefer my grief to be handled. Everyone deals with loss differently. But for me, I feel isolated when people don't ask me about how things are going. A while ago, I shared an article about loss (below) which I found to be exactly how I feel. Talking about Matt keeps him alive. I find that I'm in a fog of grief and it's hard to remember things. And I don't ever want to forget about him. So I like when people ask me what Matt was like. Or when they say "tell me when you saw Matt at his strongest moment" or they tell me a story about him. These are the things I need to share and hear about him. Olivia and Rylan need it too. I think prior to all this, I would've been afraid to ask someone about their situation like this. But I think of Matt every second of everyday so talking about him isn't hard. It's not talking about him that hurts more. 

The grief I'm experiencing is very lonely. I have the most amazing support system I could ever ask for. But no one can directly relate to this. Even Matt's parents and brother are experiencing it differently because they had different types of relationships with him. When Matt was hospitalized, the Chaplin asked me how I deal with stress or hard situations. I told him, "I call and lean on Matt." And now that he's gone, I have to find a new way to deal with things. That's a tough reality.

Someone told me recently and very casually, "this is your new norm." I understood her point and what she meant. But nothing about this is normal. And I don't forsee this ever being normal. I  think normal is complaining that your husband leaves his socks all over the house. Or that his workbench is an unorganized mess. Normal is scheduling date night because life with two kids makes alone time near impossible. Normal is looking forward to holidays and anniversaries instead of dreading them. Holding your husband in your arms while he dies, picking out caskets and memorial markers, going to therapy every week, hiring a probate lawyer, giving birth without your spouse...none of that is normal especially at 29. 

I've always felt like I am a capable person and that I could do most things on my own. Matt would shake his head and laugh when he would come home and see his tools around the house because I'd been using them. Or he would tell me to always make sure I knew where the laser light was when using his table saw. But lately, I've learned that even though I am capable of a lot, there's still stuff I can't do alone-especially while pregnant. Things have gone wrong at the house (our Wifi, furnace, and dishwasher all had minor problems). Normally, Matt would help fix these issues and instead I had to call on our dads and my neighbor for help. I stood at the thermostat crying because I didn't know what to do. I tried putting crib rails on Olivia's bed and I couldn't figure it out. I'm trying to sell homes and it's all foreign to me. These moments freeze me with sadness and frustration. I appreciate so much that I can call on so many people to help me out. But I hate that the one person I want to call, the one person I should be able to call, isn't here. One small reality that I can't just have Matt help me. And trying to accept that I will always need help isn't easy. 

Hard to believe where I was 3 months ago. Even harder to believe all that's changed and transpired during that time. But one thing that has remained constant is my love for Matt. 

http://www.scribblesandcrumbs.com/2015/12/02/i-talk-about-him/

A lot changes in two months

Two months have passed since we lost Matt. It seems like just yesterday I was holding his hand and kissing him while I said goodbye. But it also seems like an eternity has gone by. It's been a long two months. Sometimes the minutes seem like they aren't moving. I still can't put into words all that we went through during the four days we were in the hospital. I just keep reliving it all in my mind. I have flashbacks often. I see Matt in that hospital room. I hear his ventilator. I smell the smells. It's all a nightmare. 

Since Matt died, everything in my life has changed. I continue to live at my mom and dad's house. It is the only normalcy and stability I have right now. Friends and family have invited me over or asked to do things with them. And I find I can't even leave my mom and dad's house without having anxiety. I need to be in my safe place which is here, in my childhood home. It isn't because I don't want to be out, doing fun things, or spending time with people. It is simply that I can't. I can't sleep alone which means my dad has graciously given up his bed so my mom can be with me. I've been home only a handful of times but only for short periods. I feel Matt there. But I also know that he's never going to be there again so it always feel empty. I've had to make really big decisions without the support of Matt beside me. I've had to sort through finances which is always something Matt took care of. I've had to force myself out of bed everyday so that I could go through another day hoping to make Matt proud. I've cried everyday since October 11th. 

If I had a platform, there's a few things I'd love for everyone to learn from my tragedy. I hope no one ever finds themselves in this situation, but if you do, I hope my heartache makes your lives a little bit easier. 

1: Hug, kiss, and say 'I love you' with intention and meaning. 

-The last time I'll ever hear those words spoken to me by Matt will be in the emergency room. He looked so deep in my eyes like he wanted me to know the very deepest part of his heart as he told me he loved me over and over. 

2: Get life insurance.
-We kept putting it off. We talked about it but never did it. DO IT! So many of us are so young and don't want to pay for something that we think we won't ever use. But you may find yourself in the situation where you need it. Have it for the sake of your loved ones. For your children. For your spouse. 

3: Assign beneficiaries on your 401K, stock, life insurance, banks, houses, cars, etc, etc. 
-Getting everything in order with finances, bank accounts, houses, and everything else, is a huge undertaking. But assigning a beneficiary can make things a little easier. Hiring a probate lawyer isn't where I want to spend a few thousand dollars. Unfortunately, it is necessary. 

4: Communicate with your spouse, family, whoever, about your finances.

-Or have everything in one place. One bank, one folder, etc. 

5: Be an organ donor. 
-It's a huge blessing. 

6: Have a will

7: Talk about your wishes for when you pass.

-We never discussed it. Whether or not we would want a casket, cremation, funeral, wake, memorial service...why would we? We're only 33 and 29. But talk about it. They are decisions that are so hard for your family to make should you pass. Incredibly difficult for them to flip through a binder and pick out the best casket for you. But knowing what you'd want can take away some pain. Take away the guessing. 

8: Don't say "there's nothing worse than..." 
-Because someone around you could be struggling with something. They could have heartache deeper than you could ever imagine. Be sensitive when you are out in public. True kindness can go a long ways. 

9: Don't be afraid to get counseling. 

-It doesn't mean you're weak. It might mean you're facing a situation bigger than yourself. 

10: Ask for help. 

-In whatever way it is. Prayers, physical help, emotional help, spiritual help. 

11: Be present with the ones you love. 
-Put away your phones, turn off the TV, and just "be." Listen when they speak.

12: You marry your in-laws. Each and every one of them  

-Let me expand on this a little. I've never had a strained or forced relationship with the Larimores. I've always felt like I belonged in their family. And like I said at Matt's service, I believe that's because of the love Matt showed me. However, I know not everyone is as blessed as I am when it comes to the family they've married in to. In fact, I've heard people say you don't marry the family, just the person. And I completely disagree. I think it is really important to establish relationships with the family of the person you married. We have been faced with a LOT since Matt died. And it is because of the love and support from my family that I have made it through. And when I say "my family," I mean my family who are near and far, I mean each and every one of Matt's family members, and I mean our friends. We have had to make decisions about what to do with Matt after he passed, about his Memorial Service, we've had to pick caskets, memorial markers, burial plots...the list can go on and on and on. But the one thing that has remained constant and stable is that we have communicated well and we have loved each other fiercely. I pray no one ever ends up here, but if you do, it can only make things a little easier if you are all on the same page. 

Not a minute has passed in the last two months that I haven't thought of Matt. Sometimes when I cry, all I can say is just how much I miss Matt. But "missing" him isn't the same as it used to be when he was away on a work trip or something. I long for him. I want his arms around me. I want his presence to fill my soul. I want to hear his laugh. I want to text him or call him and get a response. I just want him here. 

Thank you, from the bottom of my broken heart.

It's been 3 weeks since this nightmare started. And every bit of my body aches the same, if not more, as it did when it all began. While I can't adequately express my feelings right now, I do want to acknowledge the kindness I see around me. Someday I'll be able to blog about this whole ordeal. But right now all that would come out would be anger, bitterness, heartache, and loss. 

Over the last three weeks, I've heard from people that I haven't talked to in years. I've been contacted by complete strangers. From the minute people found out we were in the hospital, kindness started to come our way. I wish I could thank each of you individually but the task would be close to impossible. 

People have stepped up and cared for Olivia when I simply can't. They've made it so she remains unaware of the life changing around her. They keep it so Olivia doesn't see me crying as that just upsets her. They've fed her, bathed her, played with her, and continued to make her world go round. 

I've received so many cards, phone calls, texts, Facebook messages, and posts. While I may not be able to respond to each one, I have appreciated each and every one of them. Every word that has been spoken, written, prayed, or thought of have meant something special to me. I know everyone's lives continue to move forward and for you to take even just a moment to send a card or text, is so meaningful. 

I've received flowers, care packages, and baskets full of treats. I've had neighbors and family taking care of our yard, cleaning our house, taking out our garbage, and tending the cat while I continue to stay with my mom and dad because I can't seem to make it home yet. 

And every single day, even while we were in the hospital, people have stepped up and provided meals for my family. We are grateful each and everyday. The last thing any of us want to do is cook or run to the grocery store and for everyone to remove that stress has been so wonderful. 

I don't know that I'll be able to express my gratitude for the financial donations everyone has contributed. When Eli first told me he wanted to set up an account, I was apprehensive. Within 3 hours, the initial goal on the website had been met. Because of the generosity from so many of you, I was able to put Matt to rest in a way that I feel he would have been pleased with. At 33 and 29, we never talked about our wishes for when we passed. I had to think of what Matt would've wanted. Because of the fund, I didn't have to worry about where the money would come from to do so. I try my best to not look too far ahead, or to stress about finances, but it's a very real part of all of this. Prior to Matt passing, I didn't work much at all. Matt worked hard to provide a life so I could stay home with our babies. I know that someday I'll be returning to work, but I have so much to process before I am ready. Because of the You Caring website and the kindness from so many, I am able to greive in my own space without having to work right now.

I also recognize that people have put their lives on hold, cancelled things of importance to them, and come to be with myself and family during this time. They've flown in from other states, missed work, and come to provide a distraction and a shoulder to cry on. 

I carry a huge amount of pain right now. So much so that my body physically shows the grief. I see it in my pale skin, dark circles under my eyes, and slumped shoulders. There's a pain in my heart that I wouldn't wish upon anyone. I believe though, that Matt is continuing to take take care of Olivia, Baby, and me. And he's doing so because of the village that surrounds me. I feel him every time someone reaches out in any way. He wants his family cared for. And you're all doing that since he can't anymore.

Thank you for your support. Not just now, but in the days, weeks, months, and years to come. I know I'm surrounded by love and care. And I know I wouldn't be able to do any of this without all of you.  

Healthy Baby, Happy Momma

Today has been wonderful. Given my history of miscarriages, I was able to have an early ultrasound done this morning. Matt, Olivia, and I all went to the imaging place. I have been extremely nervous since finding out I am pregnant. I guess I keep waiting for the worst to happen. I keep imaging that a pregnancy can't go smoothly for me and that it has to be hard before we are blessed with a baby in our arms. But this time around, that's not the case. Over the last few weeks I think I have tried to deny the fact that I am pregnant. Not because I don't want to be, because I REALLY do. But, I thought if I denied it to myself, and anything was wrong, maybe I wouldn't connect to this baby and it would just be easier if there were problems. However, that isn't the case. I find myself waking up in the morning with a smile on my face knowing there is a life growing inside me. A little being that I love so deeply and already can't imagine our lives without him/her.

Throughout the ultrasound this morning, I kept looking for anything that would signal a problem. When I first saw the gestational sac, I was unable to see the baby. But once the tech switched ultrasound methods and stopped taking the necessary measurements, we could see that little tiny baby and his/her beautiful heart flickering away. Baby measures at 5mm right now and it's heartbeat is 113. It is truly amazing that technology allows us to see something so small and yet it has impacted me so greatly. 

Baby at 6 weeks 4 days
Heartbeat: 113
Size: 5mm

Olivia continues to keep me busy...what toddler doesn't?!? She is talking SO much. At her 18 month appointment, her pediatrician was impressed that she knows WAY over 25 words, knows signs, and that she is forming two word sentences like "Momma shoes," "Dada truck," etc. She is so smart sometimes it baffles me. Like when she wants to see something on Grandma's phone and she hands Grandma her glasses because she knows Grandma needs them in order to see the phone. Or how she says "motorcycle" so clearly and knows the sound of one driving by without seeing it. 

Olivia-18 months

I think Olivia is going to be a great big sister. I know life is about to get more busy, messy, and I am going to be even more tired. But that is what my life is all about...my husband, my babies, my family. I feel so very blessed.

At Daddy's work after we told him Olivia is going to be a BIG SISTER!

I just love her cheesy smile!

Happy 1st Birthday, Olivia Grace

How is it possible!?! My sweet Olivia is one.

Everyone says that time goes too quickly. I tried by best to slow it down over the last year but it didn't work. I can't imagine my life without her.

This past year has been the most rewarding and fulfilling year I have ever experienced. My life feels more complete than it ever has. And it is all because of Olivia.

Leading up to her birthday was extremely emotional. I am embarrassed to say that I have cried almost every time someone has asked me how Olivia is. I cried at the store when I bought her birthday card. But looking ahead at all she will experience and learn makes me really excited. I have been on a roller coaster with my emotions because I don't want her to grow up yet I look forward to it.

I know I am not the first mom to feel this way. Seeing your kids grow is hard but also so rewarding. When I think back to my first days with her I miss it so much. And then she crawls into my lap, says "Dada" when I am trying to coax her to say "Mama," and she leans her head on me as if to give me a kiss, and I can't help but tear up because it is so beautiful. She has a love inside her that no one taught her. A love that she was born with. And it is amazing to see her show that affection. Even if it's something as silly as "kissing" her books. It's so sweet.

When I think about all that took place during this last year, I have a hard time believing it has only been a year! A baby changes so much in just 12 months. And not only did Olivia change, but I did as well. I have learned that I am much stronger than I have ever given myself credit for. I have learned that there was much more time during the day before she was born. I have learned I don't need as much sleep as I thought or that the house doesn't need to be as clean as I want.

On Friday, Olivia's actual birthday, we spent the day at St. Clare Hospital with my mom and dad. My dad had his intrathecal pump and catheter replaced (for his chronic back pain). We went to keep my dad's mind occupied and to keep my mom company while he had surgery. Although a hospital isn't the most exciting place to spend a 1st birthday, there is no way we would have missed it.

"I'm 1!"
Waiting at the hospital

Keeping Papa warm before surgery.

On Saturday, we celebrated Olivia's birthday with a Winter ONEderland! It was a great time spending time with friends and family and seeing how much Olivia is loved.

Olivia's Winter Onederland

Papa Larry with the kids

Olivia really didn't care about her cake. She was more concerned with all the people watching her.

One spoiled little girl!

Olivia wearing some of her new clothes.

Crazy Uncle Andy and Noelle. 

Papa Mark surprised us and came to her party! One day after surgery! 

Grandma Val and Papa Larry. 

Aunt Katie, "Muffin" Kash, and Uncle Josh

I nursed Olivia for the last time last night. It is a very bittersweet feeling. I know deep down it was time to be done. But it is a chapter that I am sad to see close. I told Matt that he needed to decide when it was time to be done nursing because it was a decision that I just couldn't make. 

What an emotional couple of weeks though! It's no wonder I haven't been sleeping well. Knowing my dad was having surgery, that Olivia was turning one, and that I would be done nursing soon has kept my mind very busy. I am hopeful for my dad's pain level. I think this surgery is going to lead to some much needed relief. And now that Olivia's birthday is over and the anticipation has settled, I can think and see a little more clearly. Thankfully Matt is extremely patient with me and lets me tear up when I think about all that is changing with Olivia. 

Happy 1st Birthday, Olivia. You are the light of my world. I am so blessed to be your mommy.