It's a Two Post Kind of Day

So while this month is super exciting about the possibility of Project Sweet Peas winning a $25,000 grant from Pepsi Refresh (please don't forget to vote here!) It still doesn't change the fact that I miss MJ horribly. And it doesn't change the fact that everyday life sometimes just sucks. So here is a little bit about my day.

Tonight I started my master's program. I had actually started when I was pregnant with the boys, and completed one class, but due to preeclampsyia and MJ's diagnosis, I had to drop out after just one class. The way the program that I am in works is a cohort module: you begin the program with the same 12 people you end the program with, taking only one class at a time, one night per week. It's a great program, and since I completed one class last year, I did not need to complete it again this year. So I simply jumped into the program after the first class.

Being the new person entailed everyone chit chatting and small talking with me before class began. I knew what was about to happen. I knew that someone would eventually ask how many kids, if any I have. I sat there, with my hands shaking so bad that I had to clench both of them shut. And them someone asked why I dropped out of the program last year. I said that I had to drop out due to a very difficult pregnancy and I have not been ready to come back until now. I was hoping that no one would ask anymore details then that. But it didn't happen. One of the girls asked what flavor baby I had, just as class was getting started. The only thing I could think to respond was 'It's complicated." It's complicated? Who says that? Apparently I do. It's all I could manage to mutter out. I know that eventually I will talk about it, and I really do like to. I don't want to be known as 'That Girl' before I am ready. I want people to not have all of these preconceived notions of how I am and what I have been through before they know me. Don't get me wrong, I love to talk about MJ, I just like it to be on my terms. I want to be the one to bring it up, not have to explain that I have twins sons, and one of them has died. I hate that. I hate it so much. I just want to be able to not ever have to freak out about the question that so many people ask: "How many kids do you have?"

Thankfully, it was never brought up again. It probably will next week, and that's fine. Maybe I will be more ready next week. As if I will ever be ready to say that yes, my son did actually die.

"That Girl"

Sometimes I am not really sure what to do with this blog. I am not sure if I should keep it sunshine and cheery, because after all, what we are doing we are doing in our son's memory. But at the same time, we are going this because our son is no longer with us. He lost his battle with CDH, he passed away in my arms. We had to make the awful decision to let him go on his own, or hold him while and before he passed. We chose to hold him.

It really hit me today when I was at the bank. We are getting a garage sale going in April (we think) to help fund our gift bags and are starting to sell some stuff on craigslist. Well, today we sold some stuff and I went to the bank to make a deposit. I walked in because I had a few questions and figured it would be easier to ask in person rather then the drive through. Well, I did my business and when I was walking out I saw the guy who helped us set up our checking account. We have a seperate account for MJ's Memories and spoke with him about what the best way to do that was, and in the time we spent with him we talked about MJ and everything that happened with his life and his death. We opened up the account a few months ago, so I didn't think he would remember me (especially because when we opened the account I was in casual clothes and I was on my lunch break today so I was in business clothes.)

Well, he remembered me. He asked how we were doing and I was very surprised at first that he remembered me. Then I sat in my car and it hit me: he probably doesn't open very many checking accounts for people who talk about their dead son. Needless to say that didn't go over well in my brain.

I hate that people remember me in that way. I hate that I am known as 'that girl' I hate the looks of pity. Real or fake. I don't want to be 'that girl'. I want to have both of my sons in my arms. I don't want to have to think about being too sad or mad or angry on this blog. I honestly don't want to have call this MJ's Memories. I would rather call it MJ's . . . . . . something happy and hopeful. Something full of sunshine and smiles. Instead I have one baby in my heart and one baby in my arms. And a half broken heart.