Ugly isn't easy.

Have you ever heard the saying "It isn't easy being beautiful" 

I have. And I kind of want to kick whoever said that. I'd give anything to have even an ounce of the beauty that use to be an every day part of my life. 

 My life has turned into one big pitiful painting with ugly written all over it. I just can't seem to get out of this mess filled with grief, sadness, and anxiety. There is truly no glamour in grieving. I never leave my house. On the rare occasions that I do, anxiety cripples me into someone who is absolutely no fun to be around. I anxiously await the moment someone asks me one of the many terrifying questions that force me to say what I wish so badly wasn't true.."my son died." Which then brings on the awkward dilemma of me trying to comfort the person who asked because they are horrified by what just came out of my mouth. Trust me, ugly isn't easy.

I will never accept Boston's death, especially now that I have a long list of reasons to believe the story I was told as to how he died is far from the truth. It makes me sick to my stomach. All day every day I wonder and worry and dream of how different my life would be had I not trusted such a pitiful excuse for a daycare provider with my children. I will not ever be able to comprehend how someone can be terrible enough to treat children's lives like they're worth nothing. Children are the future. They are where you find hope and the will to look for happiness in each day. They are why you believe in the good things coming. 

So please, forgive me for struggling to see the way that I use to. After watching my future, my hope, and such a wonderfully large part of my heart, my beautiful baby boy, Boston, drift away never to take a single breath again, I am left blinded. Telling me to appreciate what I can still see is honestly like telling someone who recently lost their eye sight forever that they are being ungrateful for not jumping up and down because they still have some of their other senses, like smell or touch. 

I'm grateful for everything I still get to watch my amazing first son do, but it does not make knowing that I will never see my second son do the same any less painful. Everywhere I look, everything I do, everything I say, I should be saying to two beautiful faces, but there is only one looking back at me. That pain is a reality that is now stuck with me every single moment, every single day, for the rest of my life. I will not apologize for grieving. My son was real, I gave birth to him, I held him, I loved him, and I gave him my all, and the all that I so willingly gave was supposed to be a life time deal. When I found out I was pregnant and brought my sweet little boy into this world I signed up for a forever with my son, or what I thought was a forever. I will wish endlessly each day I'm on this earth that I never had to know this type of pain and I will struggle attempting to calm the bitterness that arises in my heart. Consider yourself lucky if you don't know how it feels to literally feel your heart break, and feel those pieces float away in each new dawn.

It is excruciating, and if you don't know that pain please don't tell me how to handle it. I am clawing my way through hell on earth. Do not judge me. Help me, and if you cannot do that then please step aside instead of blocking the people who are willing. 

To the sweetest boy I've ever known.. 

I can see the moon but I can't see you. It makes my heart break knowing you're really that far away. No matter the miles, the months, or the years that separate us, I will love you as much as I would if you were here. My love for you is timeless, Bosty. If I ever keep a promise in my life, that will be the one. 

I love you.