Her name is Me....

Monday officially marked the 11 months since Sean's passing.

Even more so it marks one month countdown until the one year anniversary.

I've spent a lot of time this week thinking, and mostly avoiding being at home, because the quite makes for a great "devil's playground."

I've replayed the last few weeks and month  of Sean's life in my head repeatedly.

It was spent mostly fighting and discussing divorce.

Something we promised we'd never do.

Something neither of us truly believed in or wanted

Something that had become the only option, if any of us expected to get out of this alive (ironic).

When i look through the text messages they are so angry and far from where we began... but randomly there is this one message in the middle of all of them, it was actually sent on June 12th last year (funny how different things can be in just a year)

It was a discussion about how I had lost myself in our marriage and that when I looked in the mirror I didn't recognize "ME" anymore. I had gained weight.  Stopped doing my makeup. My hair was constantly in a ponytail.  My eyes were empty. I was watching my life in 3rd person.  Apart of it, but feeling totally out of control. 

How did we get here?

How did things get this bad?

Why won't he just get the help he needs so we can have the fairytale he promised me?

How do you give up on someone when you took a vow for forever?

Am i doing whats best for Lani?

IS this what she will think marriage and "love" should look like?

What the hell am I doing here?

I was listening to the song "Me" by Tamia and realized that the words seemed to sat everything i wanted but could never get out.  I wanted so hard to fix him, that i broke myself down.  In fact i can remember sitting in PDH and the song fix you began to play, and i began to ball right there in an auditorium full of people.  I knew my friend Meg understood the tears as i tried to blame it on PMS.  But truthfully speaking, it was an ongoing cycle, and I finally decided I had to put Lani and I first.   While it hurts my heart daily that Sean had to go, I truly believe it was God's way of giving ALL of us a second chance at a happy ending.  For some people that last line will come across as both brash and insensitive, but if you were around for the last 3 years, then you will understand entirely where I'm coming from. We would have never truly left each other alone, and I'm not sure where any of us would be today. 

I miss Sean daily.  There is not a day that goes by, that we don't talk about him, and i pray that when I  get to heaven he and i will be able to talk and embrace and I pray that he remembers the love we had in the beginning. Initially i felt like Lay Me Down by Sam Smith explained my feelings.  I remember downloading the album in August and listening to that song  and just laying in bed crying.  

How would i go on?

What will happen to us now?

Can i just dog back to the bad times?  

Even the bad would be better than nothing at all.

Something?

Anything?

But day by day things got a little easier and a little more possible.  

I learned to smile again. 

I began to laugh again.

I felt a peace in my heart

I wasn't worried any more

I was happy

a huge weight and stress that i carried for so long were now gone.

 I felt guilty.

i felt judged

i felt conflicted

i felt like there became two Ashleys

The Me that i felt comfortable being, and the Me that i felt everyone expected me to be.

I would go back and read through the messages and emails we exchanged over the years, and this same text would stand out time and time again

 (yes i know its the same pic, but i didn't want you to have to scroll up again! you're welcome)

It reminds me that Sean would want ME to keep living and be happy.  and yes i used the word "ME" again.  which feels selfish, but I'm being honest. One of the hardest parts to being a widow is the constant feeling  of judgment and wondering what others are thinking.  

Is she too happy?

Is she moving on?

Has she forgotten Sean?

And the answer to all of these is NO.

But i also have found a part of myself that was missing. 

The "Ashley" i forgot existed.

 I have learned to laugh again.

And laugh in a way that i forgot that i could.

(ignore the dirt and unmoved grass.  its been raining ALOT here)

 As i type this post, the storm clouds have opened  a ray of sun is shining straight through my window.  I'd like to think that's Sean shining his approval down on me and supporting me on my journey to finding happiness 

So my lyrics now are some what of a mash up between
 Break Free.. 

I only want to die alive
Never by the hands of a broken heart
I don't wanna hear you lie tonight
Now that I've become who I really am

This is the part when I say I don’t want it
I'm stronger than I've been before

This is the part when I break free

Chandelier...

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier

I'm gonna live like tomorrow doesn't exist

Like it doesn't exist

I'm gonna fly like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry

I'm gonna swing from the chandelier, from the chandelier

I'll Remember

Say goodbye to not knowing when
The truth in my whole life began
Say goodbye to not knowing how to cry
You taught me that

And I'll remember the strength that you gave me
Now that I'm standing on my own
I'll remember the way that you saved me
I'll remember

2 years have gone so quickly with only a few bumps... Oh, and a broken arm too

25 months to be exact and I still cant believe it.  I surprise myself a little every time i say i  have a 2 year old. Thinking, "No i have a baby".  But then i turn around and see this little adventurous, wild and crazy, FEARLESS, tough, little girl standing in front of me, and realize that I no longer have a baby.

 It still seems like yesterday i have doing skin to skin in the hospital. because she was so small.

Now all 22 lbs of her still wants to sleep like that when she doesn't feel  well, or when she is super tired, and although at times it drives me nuts, most of the time im so grateful that she still want to be my baby from time to time.  

As you can see in the first picture, she has a cast on her arm.  As you all now my baby is adventurous. And if mommy or daddy tell her "to slow down, stop running, dont jump off of that..." it send a trigger in her brain to do so even more.  I truly believe that one day she will be in the x-games or an american gladiator, because she seems designed for extreme sports.  I have repeatedly told Lani not to climb over the back of the couch. 1.Its dangerous. 2. we have tile floors so that would be a pretty sever fall.  

So it should not have been to my surprise that when i left the movie room with her eating chicken and cheecharoni(macaroni), and watching the Grammys, while i went to get my plate, that i would return to find that she was hanging over the corner of the couch trying to throw food at Bella who was behind it.  

 my 3rd thought was the lift under the back couch and how a fall from that corner would have been horrible.  So i run to catch her as she is falling, and grab her by the arm. She screamed and pulled away from me, and i assume that she is being her usual feisty self, but when she started to cry i knew something was wrong, and we headed to the hospital.

When we took her to the ER, for what we thought was nurse maid's elblow (we've been there before) or some other minor injury, turned out to be a hairline fracture, with swelling at the elbow... OH My GOSH... Can we say heart broken??? I cant think of the last time i cried this much.  Especially when the doctors repeatedly questioned us about how this happened, or asked us to remove her clothes, so he could "compare her arms".  In my heart as a mother I knew what he was implying, and that we had some how hurt our child. And While i know his job is to act in the best interest of the patient, it broke my heart that someone thought i might hurt my baby.  All the while, Lani is being a total trooper.  Other than screaming and fighting when the x-ray tech came in, she was so brave, and didnt even cry when they put her cast and sling on.  (I didnt even realize they made them that small. ) The next day when we went to see the ortho specialist, he assured me that she was not the first toddler to break her arm, and it might not been from me catching her, and asked "has she fallen lately?" 

"Oh only 10-12 times a day!" 

We go to the follow up on Monday, and will get either her hard cast, or a brace, depending on what the x-ray show.  So keep her in your prayers.  And i will keep you posted