pregnant

Was it him?

Someone asked if I dream of Donovan. I explained how I rarely get to see his face or talk to him. With a exception of a few times. Once we made love but his face was never shown and he didn’t speak. &recently I had 2dreams; but he was dark, broken and damaged . He wasn’t my Donovan. He had been taken over by a corpse of a person. My friend said to me what do you expect he is trying to mend himself, he obviously has lots of work to do. I never thought about it, that way. But it makes sense, right? Time here and time there probably runs defiantly. I wonder if the man I have recently saw is the part of him that eventfully took over? Every-time I think of suicide I think of a tumor or cancer. Something that you have no control, but it’s something that can’t be diagnosed in a scan. My therapist has told me about people who have been in therapy for years for having suicidal tendencies and that often enough they eventually give into their thoughts. Donovan use to always dance around the idea, but I never took his threats seriously. It seemed impossible that he would. I wish now that I would have done a better job at getting him help. When I think about each time I tried to talk to him about getting him help, he convinced me that it was nothing. When I tried to talk friends/family they were convinced I was the crazy one. That Donovan wasn’t like what I was saying. I even had a hard time believing it because what people saw and what happened behind enclosed walls was so different. &I couldn’t ever tell if it was him or the alcohol causing certain behaviors.

Love is…

I often hear people say. I wouldn’t be able to live with out “their spouse” or someone they dearly love. I know what it’s like to live with out the person, I felt like I couldn’t live without. I’ve been doing it 4months &I continue to because I love my babies. It can’t be explained. The emotions, the feelings are impossible to fathom unless you have experienced it. Its a love that is out of this world. I sat in a dark hole contemplated my own death but the only thought that kept me alive was my children. As a mother it’s impossible to imagine bringing harm to my children. I put a smile on my face. I embrace everything that life has to offer; so that I can offer the world to my children. Love is loving somebody so much that you will do anything to make yourself better. So that you can offer them the best part of yourself.

Lost count

I hate that this has happened. This is what I was scared of. Losing track. I just don’t know how the secs turned into mins. Mins into hours, hours into days, days into weeks, weeks into months. Lately these tears have been falling more and more. It’s the uncontrollable kind. That I can feel flaring in my nostrils like I’ve breathed in water. It makes my breaths feel hollow like a uneasy feeling sneaking up causing panic threw out all my nerve endings. I suck back air, I swollow and close my eyes trying to blink out the tears. This whole grief thing isn’t getting easier. I watched my newly wedded cousin boast over her new husband and their exciting news of being 12weeks pregnant. I watched his hands gently grace her stomach. I watched as my sisters husband played with their daughters. I saw people laughing and enjoying all these little moments passing them by, their lives seemed simply perfect. As I sat I stared at them all with envy. Remembering the time I felt everything was right &I didn’t feel the hunting sadness, I feel now. Ive been the only person in my family to have children out of wedlock. And to have two children by different fathers. WoW walking around at these family things 25weeks pregnant, with a deceased fiancé. I feel the shame rising inside myself. I feel embrassed in a way I’ve never felt. No one knows how to be excited for me. Instead they are scared to see what life has to bring me.

I wish I might

I wish with all my might,
He might come to visit tonight.
I wonder what keeps him as I close my eyes. Everyday I feel like I’m
Losing him, I hate it.
I don’t ever want another man. I feel like it would be cheating. I feel like he was my third chance at love and now I’m all out of chances. That I’m meant to be in the company of my lonely heart now&forever. I’ve messed up
Gods plan for me. He gave me Donovan and I didn’t take good enough care of his heart. I should have been better to him and he would still be here. I’m sorry God for not being tender and gentle for not loving Donovan the way I should have. I understand my burden. Although it brakes my heart, I suppose I’ve brought it upon myself.

Urgency

You questioned my love. Now I wonder if you can feel the urgency in my heart. How does death of a loved one make you stronger? If anything it’s teaching me to have tendencies of a sociopath. People say, I seem to be doing well. If they only knew the constant thoughts vaulting threw out my veins/ my bones. This life was suppose to be good. I miss our kisses. I miss knowing the love I had when I came home.

Waiting for that moment.

I feel like I’m impatiently, patiently waiting for the day. I wake up & my worries are gone. I’m not use to this stressing thing. I don’t know how to deal with it. Instead I keep hoping for the best& praying that a miracle will magically happen. How stupid does that sound. I make lists but I’m not sure how it helps. I talk to my parents &grandmother expecting them to give me a answer. Except I never get anywhere. I am stuck on the same math problem, &I keep pounding my head on the paper in hopes the solution will appear. When will this life feel like mine again? When will my worries go away? I hear people say have faith &hope. I actually have the verse tattooed on my shoulder. But I feel like I should be doing more then just hoping and having faith. That I need to take some kind of stand to help move the process along. Does anyone get this? Or know how to do the whole faith and hope thing? Is it all in Gods hands? Or do you have to take some steps too?

Week 11

4-5days a week I drive 45min to school and 45min home. Some days I have the same thoughts other days they change.
Lately as I drive to school, I picture Donovan sitting on his bed. Clinching the sheets with one hand and holding the gun on his lap. I see myself on my knees in front of him. Screaming, crying, pleading in front of him. But he looks threw me with tears slowly rolling down his face. His eyes flutter open and close as he relives his life. I wonder, as tears flood my vision of him, if he thinks what out lives will be after. Does he see me ? Does he wonder how I will survive? Or what his daughter will ask about him? Does he hear Ocean crying out for him? Does he clinch his eyes close and see the first time he saw me? Or the last time he ran his hands over my body, kissed me, saw me smile?
I grab his face &he turns his head. I try to grab his attention, hoping he will see me. But his head is overwhelmed with thoughts drowning him. I see him slowly giving up, as he raises the gun. I suddenly arrive to Thanksgiving, With out Donovan. It feels like there is a entire piece missing from my life. As I wipe away the residue or tears, I think to myself my life sucks with out him. That I hate my life. The only reason I can continue to breath& live, is for Ocean and Meadow. (My children)

My daughters name

This summer Donovan, Ocean and I would go for hikes& while we would hike. We talked about our future, our wedding. We ended up coming across this Meadow. There were two bush trees intwining. In that spot we kissed& decided that was the place we wanted to say “I do.” & as many know 10weeks ago Donovan passed away. Whenever, I feel sad, angry, anxious, scared. I close my eyes and envision laying in the grass, with the wild flowers all around. I picture walking towards him in a white gown. I feel his warmth as he pulls me in. This Meadow is the place, I go when I need to be with Donovan. As people know my son’s name is Ocean, because “the ocean heals a broken heart.” He continues to be my antidote. As far Donovan’s &my daughter, she has been beyond a blessing. She has saved me from poisoning myself. She has saved my life. Her name is going to be Meadow. Because Meadow is where our two hearts will collide and become one. Her middle name will be Donovan’s name spelled backwards with out the D. So I introduce my daughters name as Meadow Navono

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Help myself

My counselor suggested righting more. She said I’m beginning to lock things inside. That when I’m writing I’m more open and seem less confused. But lately I’ve been vague and holding back.
After she told me that. I saw what she meant and it clicked for me. When I write down my thoughts my ideas seem more clear. But when I don’t everything is juggled around that even when I talk I get lost between my thoughts and the words Trying to come out. Writing, I know it’s what I need to continue to do. I feel better when I allow myself to express my feelings.