Blinded by Coupons

I have trouble sleeping, there's no getting around it. I'm up 3-4 times each night, I have nightmares, and I have yet to find a sleep aid that works. Last night was no exception. I had the strangest dreams and woke up in a complete panic, I hate when they're so real you aren't sure you were ever asleep to begin with.

My baby shower is in one week, and though I haven't had to lift a finger, I'm still stressed. Last night, I was even dreaming about the people who may or may not show up, and if they'll even enjoy themselves. So the dream begins, and my friends arrive to set up. We are having a diaper raffle and I realize too late we have no raffle tickets, so I offer to use my coupons. Why, I have no idea, if you know me, you know the only way I part with my coupons is if I'm spending them! Anyway, I set the pack of coupons on the table and rub my eyes, and when I open them, all I see is black. I am completely blind, and in a total disaray. How could this have happened, any why right now? I'll never get to see my girls grow up, and I'll never see my baby's face. What a nightmare, I was so terrified I woke up drenched in sweat and with severe cotton mouth.

I am glad to say I have shaken it off, but the threat has never seemed more real, the thought of something going wrong. I started reading a new book, a book about motherless mothers. I was only able to make it through the first few pages before putting it down, it hit really close to home and touched on things I've never let myself think about before. My actions toward my kids, my own health and theirs, is a direct reflection of losing my mother so young in my life. Not only do I want to see every milestone, I want them to know I am there for every event in their lives. Having my mom "with me always" is different than having her to talk to, ask for advice, hug, and tell her I love her. I want my children to grow up with me by their side to wipe away the tears and pick up the broken pieces. I understand heartbreak isn't something I can shelter them from, but I can be there waiting with a tissue to help ease the pain.

Never, ever, have I blamed my mom for what happened. She had cancer, it was inevitable. There is a part of me, however, that will always wonder how it could have been different. Not just for me, but for everyone involved. The answers that are missing haunt my dreams, and my daily life. The choices she made seem selfish, stupid, lazy even, and the consequences were more than anyone expected. My heart aches for the suffering my mom endured, and the pain no one could stop. I hear it in my family's voices when they talk about her, I know everyone feels like they got the short end of the stick, who wouldn't, but I have tried my hardest to let this be a lesson. I take lots of pictures, I play with my girls, and if I feel like it, I still rock them to sleep. I tell them I love them every chance I get, and I mean it. I don't shower them with gifts at Christmas-time, but I pick up things throughout the year to let them know I think about them when I'm out. I do my best to provide them with every opportunity, even at their ages, that I can, and I never let them go to bed angry. In addition for their regular doctor visits, I make sure I schedule my own as well. I refuse to let history repeat itself on account of my fears.

I hope one day they have their own children, and I am alive and well, and a big part of their lives. I am anxious to offer advice, help with school work, hear about a first crush and help prepare for their first school dance. I don't want to rush them, if I could freeze time I probably would, but it's a learning process for the both of us. It may be a bumpy ride, but another lesson I've learned is to always wear my seatbelt.