I’ve always seen myself as a pretty optimistic person. I think I’ve mostly seen the glass as half-full as opposed to half-empty in my life. When I've encountered a problem or challenge, my first reaction was to try and fix it, or find a solution. When I met Pat, I saw these same qualities in him. Through our years of marriage, when hard times came up, we made a plan and got to work fixing it. It always seemed like when one of us was struggling, the other was there to encourage and motivate the other to keep going. The night CJ died, I felt like I died too-and when I looked into Pat’s eyes, I knew he did as well. I remember thinking that my heart may be physically beating still, but I would never live again- I would just exist. I felt like I had lost all hope and all purpose for living. Those first few weeks were unlike anything I can even explain- and for the first time in our marriage, we were both at our lowest point at the same time. (I’m still not sure how we made it.) We needed each other, but we were both broken. I read so many articles and posts in those early weeks- trying to grasp onto anything that would help me. What I hoped to gain didn’t happen, and instead, I became more depressed about what I read and the outlook for our life. One thing that kept coming up was anger from people who had been told they, “were so strong” when they had lost someone they loved. Most of them were insistent they didn’t have a choice. It’s true we didn’t have a choice in what happened, but let me be very clear, you do have a choice! I remember very distinctly when it happened for me. I was standing in the kitchen early one morning and I simply made the choice at that moment that I didn’t want to feel like this for the rest of my life. I looked at my girls and Pat and I decided that the only thing more tragic than losing CJ, was for my family to lose me as well. I needed to be a good mom and a good wife. I needed to live fully for them. I love my girls every bit as much as I do CJ, and they deserve to have their mom back- not just existing, but living and finding joy in life. I wish it was as simple as just making that choice-it’s not. I’ve pulled myself off the bathroom floor more times than I can count. It’s been 150 days and I still cry every day. Most days I have no idea how I’m going to get there, but I’m determined that I will find joy again.
One moment, one hour, one day at a time!
-Nicole
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