Words... they have the power to hurt or heal

I have always liked words. When I was little, I loved being read to so much that I convinced my babysitter to teach me to read when I was three. After that, I read everything. From cereal boxes to newspapers, to picture books and novels, I couldn't get enough words. When I finally got glasses at age 5, a whole new world of words was opened up to me. Suddenly I could read signs, menus, and smaller print books. When I got glasses, I also started to speak more. The world made a lot more sense to me, and I had more to say about it, when I could actually see.

When I got pregnant with Keller, I was surprised at how much people had to say about my pregnancy. It seemed like everyone had something to say or a question to ask about my baby and my changing body. Most people's reactions were positive. They wanted to know how I was feeling and shared my excitement about having a baby. A lot of people were really encouraging and positive. However, there were a lot of people who said careless and hurtful things and those things have, unfortunately, stuck with me.

I admit, I am sensitive to people's words. I get my feelings hurt easily because I trust people not to be careless and insensitive with their words. I have high expectations, both for myself and for other people, to choose words wisely and refrain from saying things that are intentionally or carelessly rude or hurtful. Now, I'm not saying that I have never said something that was intentionally or accidentally mean or hurtful. However, I hope that most of the time I am as careful with words as I expect others to be.

From my perspective, I have come a long way in my efforts to develop a "thicker skin" when dealing with insensitive people. I have learned how to recognize the difference between people who use words carelessly versus those who use them aggressively. I am now a lot more accepting of people who simply don't think about what they say than those who intentionally want to hurt my feelings or see me react in some negative way.

Recently, one of my friends said that it was "entertaining" to say crazy things to me because it's fun to see my reactions. While I, being the reality television fan that I am, should not begrudge any one's entertainment choices, her comment confused me a lot. Why would you intentionally say hurtful or odd things to me, just to see my reaction? The funny part is, I often don't react at all. I classify myself as a "processor," not a "reactor." Most of my reactions occur days later when I am done making sense of what was said. Being a processor usually serves me well in my job and personal life because I'm not likely to "fly off the handle" or do something that I have to fix later.

I consider myself to be a pretty forgiving person and I really don't hold a grudge toward people who have said rude and hurtful things to me in the past. However, I haven't forgotten their words, nor do I trust them to be caring and sensitive with my feelings in the future. I just don't want to be someone who holds on to negativity. Negativity robs you of your joy and I'm not willing to part with joy, even to make a point or put someone in their place.

When I think about getting pregnant again, one of my biggest concerns is, what will people say? After all I have been through and overcome, it's insane to me that I worry about that but I do. What are people going to say when I announce my next pregnancy? My feelings are pretty raw still. Throw in pregnancy hormones and I will be extremely upset if anyone says something hurtful, even if it is unintentional. I want my next pregnancy to be a time of joy and excitement, even if it is accompanied by anxiety and uncertainty.

Writing about this experience has been so good for me and I hope that my words have been a source of healing and support for others who are going through similar experiences. As I move forward, with the hope of becoming pregnant sometime soon, I pray that God will make me deaf to negative words and open my ears to encouragement and support. I pray that God would give me the strength to withstand negative questions and comments and that he would continue to surround me with people who are consistently supportive and helpful. I further pray that God will give those around us, especially our families, the strength and fortitude it takes to be there as we continue to heal and expand our family.

Improving mental health... not just my own

I am one of those people who has always known what career I wanted. When I was four years old, in preschool, I came home and told my mom that, "I want to be a lady who helps kids who are sad." At the time, I didn't even know what a counselor was, but I knew that that was the job I wanted. Through school, I thought about other careers, but never seriously. I always came back to the desire to help people with their feelings. My various traumatic experiences only served to solidify my career choice because I repeatedly witnessed the power of counselors, pastors, and other helpers in action. Somehow, they ran toward pain and suffering when others were ignoring it or running in the opposite direction. How could I not want to join them?

One thing I haven't written about a lot in this journal is my job. I am a licensed counselor and I work with students who have severe emotional needs. I work within the school district (although not for the school district) to provide comprehensive mental health services to students in 4th through 8th grade. I love my job and wouldn't trade it for anything.

The pastor at my church often refers to Deer Lodge as the "valley of 'throw away' people." This area is home to the Montana State Hospital (for the mentally ill), Galen (which was once a TB sanatorium), and Montana State Prison (where Montana's worst criminals are housed.) If this place is really for "throw aways," then I definitely work with the "throw away" kids.

My kids are difficult; they are big, smelly, and loud. They use terrible language and have poor social skills. People don't like my kids because they aren't cute anymore and they are definitely a challenge to deal with. What I like most about my kids is that they are challenging. Their needs are unique and varied and I love using my creativity and compassion to help them overcome the chaos in their lives.

I hadn't given much thought to just how much losing Keller would impact my work until this recently. Several weeks ago, I was in a meeting where a mother expressed her overwhelming frustration with her son. She was angry because her son was failing his classes and making poor choices in social situations. During the meeting, this mother threw her hands up in the air, repeatedly belittled her son, and described how she has "given up on him because he is an embarrassment." I maintained my composure, because I am a professional, but inside I was seething. How could someone speak that way about their child, especially with him sitting right there? How can a parent give up on a kid who is only 14 years old? Shouldn't a parent take some responsibility for her child's difficulties and take the necessary steps to resolve them?

I also work with several students who are in the foster care system. It baffles me that there is even a need for an entire system for kids who are unwanted and abused. How is it that we live in a society where children are born to parents who don't want them, when there are a lot of great parents out there who suffer the loss of their child or experience the pain of infertility? It's probably a good thing that I don't have a lot of interaction with the birth parents of the foster kids on my caseload because I probably would not have kind words to say.

Right now, my sympathy for parents who complain about or abuse their children is really low. I am a mother without my son and I am forced to deal with a lot of mothers who don't even like their sons. They have given up on their children and are tired of being the mothers of kids who aren't cute or compliant anymore. Right now, I would give anything to have a child, even a pain in the neck fourteen year old.

My job as a counselor isn't an easy one, especially when I am dealing with my own mental and emotional challenges. As hard as it is, I can't imagine doing anything else. These "throw away" kids deserve someone who is professionally and personally invested in their well-being. They deserve someone who is in their corner, even on their worst days.

The best thing that I can do now to help my kids and their families is simply to continue helping myself. I know that all of my "self care" efforts serve more than one purpose; they allow me to improve my mental and emotional health so that I can be truly present and helpful to my clients. Being respected as a caring and compassionate mental health provider is key, not only to my job, but to my identify.

I am so lucky that God has allowed me to work in the mental health field. How incredible is it that I found my career at the age of four? Some days are definitely tougher than others, but the tough days are where I find my strength. Hopefully strength will allow me to continue to use my skills and compassion to make a difference for all sorts of "throw away" people.

Still struggling... but determined and committed

One by one, my friends have been giving birth to their babies. While I am sincerely happy for them, it continues to be hard for me to see them getting the one thing that I want so bad. My friends and family have made pregnancy and childbirth look so easy and I still can't believe that I wasn't able to bring my baby home. Each new baby brings pain, because of what I have lost, but they also remind me that there is hope for the future.

At this point in my healing process, I have a new perspective on difficult. I no longer waste time looking for anything in my life to be easy. Holding a friend's newborn son is not easy, but what is the alternative? Should I stop doing things just because they are difficult? I made the decision a long time ago that I would embrace life's challenges, even the most difficult ones.

Honestly, I believe that holding newborn babies is actually good for me. It is unbelievably hard, but it is also very healing. Plus there is something calming and comforting about holding a baby and those feelings are good for the body and spirit. Who knows? Maybe experiencing calm and comfortable feelings will help me in my efforts to get pregnant with my next baby.

One thing that is still difficult for me is that I continue to feel an odd separation from most people. It may be all in my head, but it is disturbing and frustrating to me nonetheless. I find myself struggling in social situations because I don't feel like I fit in with the general population. My anxiety has increased in recent weeks and I have to remind myself to breathe when I start to feel overwhelmed and anxious.

A big part of my feeling of separation is the fact that I have given birth and I am a mother but I don't have my child at home. Matt and I are parents but we don't do the same things that most parents do. We think about Keller constantly but we are unable to interact with him like typical parents and children. It is difficult for me to listen to parents talk about their children, either bragging or complaining, without feeling the full weight of the loss that I've experienced.

Matt and I continue to tackle the task of healing from Keller's death with quiet determination and a strong commitment to each other. We know that our strength and commitment are not earthly; they are gifts from God for which we are sincerely grateful.

It is a well-known fact that trauma, especially the loss of a child, takes a heavy toll on relationships. With that knowledge, I know that it would be easy for Matt and I to give up on ourselves and our relationship, but we really haven't gone down that road. We do struggle and have our tougher days, but we remain supportive of each other's unique needs.

I am consistently amazed at Matt and the way that he has taken care of me. One thing that a lot of people don't know is that Matt is only 25 years old. His maturity and strength, through all of this, is truly remarkable. I've never thought of myself as someone who needed to be taken care of, but it feels good to have someone who works hard to meet my needs and make me happy. I pray that I can be as supportive and encouraging to Matt as he is to me.

Time marches on and it is both comforting and depressing at the same time. As hard as it is to see our friends and family members having their babies, we can't just crawl into a hole and stop living. Our only obvious choice then is to continue healing and surviving, just like all the people who have experienced pain before us. We have goals and the hope that is necessary to achieve those goals. I can't predict the future but I pray that God continues to heal and comfort us so that we can move forward with our changed, but still intact family.