One day at a time

These four walls have never been the same since the day I found out about your existence. This white room, this porcelain tub…. none of it feels the same since that day. This was the room I first saw those two blue lines and this was the room I ran to after I knew I had lost you.

As I soak in the same tub I contracted in I feel so much pain. My heart aches and longs to just know any sense of who you would have been. You would be over a year by now. You would have a new baby sibling and the miscarriage would have never had the chance to happen. I feel guilty when I think of you. My heart broke just the same with the 2nd ectopic and the miscarriage, but for some reason my mind always wanders back to you. My first. My sweet Elowyn.

I thought I knew what love was before you. I thought I had felt a broken heart. But nothing compares to the love I have for you. The moment I knew of you I wanted nothing more but to protect my womb because I knew that was your place of survival. The soul shattering realization that the same body and person that was supposed to protect you is the same reason you aren’t here today. I’ve waited a long time for this pain to lessen. I remember people saying that it wouldn’t hurt so bad after awhile but there are moments when I feel a tinge in my stomach, the same fluttering feeling I would feel when I thought you were thriving inside of me, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. I’m brought right back into that moment in the hospital when I had to chose between your life and mine. Ive been working hard on myself even though the doctors said that there was nothing I could have done differently it’s hard not to blame myself. I could have been skinnier, I could have done more yoga do eliminate stress, I could have taken more supplements. All these things creep in and I begin to blame myself. I want so badly to try again.

Being a mom and holding my baby is something I want more than the air I breathe, but the joy of pregnancy has been damaged and smudged with chemo shots and multiple hospital visits. Three pregnancies with three angels in heaven has made the thought and idea of pregnancy so traumatic I can’t even fathom what it would be like to bring my sweet angel to term when the time comes. In the months to follow I hope you stay close to me every step of the way. Trying to conceive is hard enough on its own without all the stress of making it past my dreaded 5 week marker. I know that you will be with me helping me through any negative pregnancy test or any slightest twinge I might experience when I do get pregnant again. My sweet first love. I wish you were here with me. Just know that I think and dream of you often.


Your mommy


Kindness is so gangster…..

Kindness is so gangster…..

The world can be a scary place to live. Especially when you’re in jr high school. In school I got bullied a lot. I was the quirky kid. I had “friends”, but they always picked on me for being weird. Weird to them wasn’t that I played with Yugioh cards or acted out Pokémon in the field like the rest of the kids they labeled “weird”. My weirdness was the fact that I was nice. They would tease me trying to get me to react in a volatile way. Always uping it a notch further. The last straw was when my mom bought me this cheerleading outfit from Limited Too. I was so excited to wear it the following Monday because it was sports theme for spirit week. My mom was hesitant about letting me wear it to school because she didn’t want me to ruin it. After hours of heavy persuading I finally convinced her I would take good care of it. That Monday I strutted into school feeling so cool. I couldn’t wait for my friends to see me. I told one of my friends about my moms fear of it getting messed up and she laughed. During lunch we are on the bleachers, there was a lot of whispering and more side conversations then usual. I started to notice that I wasn’t apart of them. I packed up my stuff and began to walk off the bleachers when one of the girls behind me called my name. As I turned around another girl behind me poured a cup of juice over my head. I wanted to scream, but all I could do was cry. I kept asking “why did you do that?” “Did you do it on purpose?” as I sobbed. No one answered, they just laughed. One of the girls began to call me names, “you’re so stupid”, she said. I felt the anger start to build. Without thinking I punched her in the face. She fell off the bleachers. I had never felt so horrible in my whole life. That’s what they wanted. They wanted to kill my kindness and I let them win. 
That weekend was my grandparents weekend to have me so I went over to visit. My Nana had heard how I was suspended and wanted to talk about what happened. I told her how the girls called me names and said I was too nice. That I was weird because I didn’t stick up for myself. I explained how I felt after they poured the juice on me and how cruel they were for laughing and calling me names after. I told her they had it coming. My Nana had never looked so disappointed. She said,” there will be times in your life when you get knocked down and you want to knock someone down with you, but don’t. You are a Cupples, your stronger then that” I knew that what I had done was wrong, but it felt good to make her pay for calling me names. “Don’t let the world change who you are. Only me, your papa, and you know who you really are and I love the Rissy you are. Don’t let it weaken you. Don’t let this world change that.” Since that talk with my Nana I have always tried to stay true to me. Never let the world or things that happen change who I am.
Struggling with trying to conceive a child and have it implant in the right location as changed me. It’s weakened me. I have been at rock bottom for a long time because of this. I find myself in this constant struggle of “fake it till you make it”. This whole ordeal has made me into a different person. At first I was trying to be so nice to people because I started to realize you never know what others might be going through so treat them with kindness. When I realized that was turning me into a doormat I began treating people the same way they treated me. Like total and utter shit. Ignoring them how they did me, giving them shit the same way they would, being very petty, lowering myself to their level. One day I took a hard look in the mirror and started to cry. I let the world change me. Every experience I tried to block and and keep strong I let in and make me into a person I am not. 
If I’ve said it once in these blogs I’ve said it a million times, “rock bottom became the very foundation I rebuilt myself on”. I’m not perfect, I’m learning everyday just like the rest of you. This spiritual journey hasn’t been easy. It’s a journey. But I try not to give up. I roll with the bunches…… sometimes I’m just rolling for longer then I expected. Things that shifted me before aren’t shifting me in this present time so I will have to keep tinkering with things till I find what works for me to have my spiritual enlightenment again. It’s a process and a journey, but I’m grateful for the people along for the ride. I kinda forgot how gangster it is to be kind to everyone know matter what.


Keep keeping on

Some days I feel like I’m okay. That this experience has toughened my soul and nothing can break me like losing them did. Other days I’m not sure how much more I can take. Between the unkind world around me and the ache in my heart I feel defeated and weakened inside. I feel empowered to take the life that lays before me and turn this mess of raw emotion and my broken heart into something beautifully reborn and brand new. I begin my spiritual journey full of pep and positivity to be broken down once again by my imaginary memories in my mind. I envision them as small children maybe 3-5 so happy and full of life. My happiness and eagerness to push forward quickly dissipates. I’m sucked back into the darkness. Waiting in that dark, cold, lonely room for the shot that ends their short lives. 
How do you escape the demons in your mind? I truly want to be happy again. Over the last 10 years since my Nana died I feel as if I’ve worked so hard to rebuild myself. I’ve fought to become the person I used to be. I feel as if with every triumph I’m presented with another obstacle. I fall into a self hatred phase and begin to blame myself for all the bad in my life. The unavoidable, nothing I can do about it things that just happen, some how in my mind become something I could have avoided or stopped. It’s a vicious cycle that is hard to escape. 
I recently began yoga and meditation which in the beginning of battling my depression helped a lot. I know it’s just the start but I’m not noticing results as fast as I want which is making it harder to stay focused and continue with it. I find myself dreading going into work again. You can’t control your environment in society. You can’t make people be kind of positive. I find myself getting sucked into the bleakness around me. My happiest time being the walk of solitude to the place where I eat lunch and the after school bell. I consider taking a leave to just focus on me and rebuilding my happiness and positive energy. 
My emotions are like a ping pong ball bouncing from wall to wall. Up and down, high to extreme low. On the verge of tears with any talk of pregnancy or babies. Fitting back my true emotions with my well rehearsed fake smile. I want so badly to feel as happy as I was the day I saw that one word “pregnant”! 
I have so much to be looking forward to. My best friend is getting married, I was asked to be her bridesmaid, I got into a program for school that I’ve been wanting to get into for over a year, I raised enough money to cover my first test to see where The blockage that is causing the ectopic pregnancies is located; however, I’m so unhappy. I’m fearful of getting the test done and wasting my donations on being told that I am blocked and there is nothing they can do to remove it. Once again my mind goes to the worst possible answer. Sometimes I feel as if I brought this upon myself, always fearing if I was infertile and if I could ever get pregnant. Now my worst fear is in a way coming true. Yes I can create life, but I can’t keep it and protect it. 
I’m looking forward to summer vacation. My first spiritual journey began to flourish during my summer vacation I believe last year. I have long days to myself to really focus on the me and the person I want to become. I can reconnect with my emotions and how to handle the good and extinguish the bad. I’m able to be one with Mother Earth and embrace all the beauty she has to offer. I’m hoping that’s all I need this time again. Just a little R&R to get back on the right path.
Sincerely Me


Lead me out of the darkness

“You’re stronger than this” people keep telling me,  “You’ve gone through worse.” But inside I know I’m not. Im weak. Inside im screaming “SAVE ME!” “PLEASE JUST HOLD ME!” “DONT LEAVE ME!” I feel like piece by piece I’m breaking away.

These past couple years I have been hit with so much. Im on the edge being pushed further and further to falling with every horrid experience. This…… this was my last amount of happiness. I wanted you!  I wished and prayed and dreamt of you every second of every day! Nobody in this world could want anything as much as I wanted you. And now I have to chose…… Chose between risking my own life in some miracle attempt to save yours.

Waiting in the hospital room for the oncologist to deliver the methotrexate I almost left several times. Your father, the reasonable one kept me sane and grounded. “How could I do this to you?” I asked him. I am your mother and you are my little baby. I was sent to this world to protect you and I am here with some horrible twist of fate to “dissolve” you as if that medical term couldn’t stab me harder then the needles they used for every blood draw. I wanted you. We wanted you. On February 3 I never could have thought that I’d be losing you in this way.

When they told me I was having a misscarriage a couple weeks prior I died inside. I attempted to mourn and rebuild my psyche. It was a hard thing knowing God had called you home. But this is something different. This is me taking your life. “Im a murder” I keep thinking in that cold room with the curtains drawn. I am about to murder my baby. I was supposed to protect you. But I couldn’t do that.

In my brain I have ran through a million options. A) I keep you growing in hopes of some miracle you make your way to where you should be and I live.  B) I continue to let you grow, my tube ruptures and I die or lose it and you. The list goes on. But in the end the only real option I had was this one.

This is when the depression consumes me. When I follow my sadness into the darkness. I don’t know how to be normal anymore. Eye contact stabs so deep I feel paralyzed. The mundane ritual of social interaction becomes to much to bare. I just want to isolate myself, in my room, on my bed, alone with my thoughts. But what I need is much different. I need to be pulled and shaken out of these depths I’ve fallen so deep into. I need someone, anyone to hug me and tell me I’m not alone as they hold my hand and walk me out of the somber state. I feel like I’m begging, pleading, screaming on the inside with every fake smile…. Every “I’m okay”……  every forced laugh “please help me feel okay again”

How do you come out of a situation like this unchanged?  No damage done? You can’t. I need a break from life, from work, from societies callous words. I feel the love and support from my friends and family, but I need help. A million hugs, a million you will be okay, a million ounces of love. I need to know that all this was for something. The confused, frustrated, feelings behind it all to be validated. I wanted to be a mother…… am I still a mother? How do I heal? So many unanswered questions. And no formal way to say goodbye.