Just Jacquie

I’m already crying. What I’m about to say is very near and dear to me, but I feel strongly I need to share.

I had miscarriages for my first and third pregnancies. Nothing could have prepared me for the devastation that would ensue. I felt like I did something wrong. I remember thinking that I shouldn’t have lifted that heavy box or gone to Zumba class. I blamed myself for losing my babies. Feeling that responsibility was crippling. I felt like something was wrong with my body. I felt betrayed. I felt like I let Keegan down. I’ve mourned the loss of my two babies who I never got to meet, hold, smell, or sing lullabies to. I’ve mourned the life we had planned with them in it. I’ve mourned not being able to watch them grow up. There are two ‘future families’ I didn’t get to know and love and be a grandma to. My heart has been shattered with the loss of it all.

Anger also became real to me. I teetered on the edge of bitterness. I was angry at Heavenly Father. I was angry at all the happy families with young kids. I was angry at pregnant women. I was especially angry seeing posts on Facebook with pregnancy or birth announcements. I knew deep down that I shouldn’t be angry at all of these people, but I felt it nonetheless. I remember having a break down after reading someone’s post on Facebook complaining about being pregnant. What I wouldn’t give to have morning sickness, discomfort and lack of sleep all for the purpose of having a baby!!!

Each month after both miscarriages, I’d have such hope to be pregnant again. I remember reliving all the loss, pain and disappointment of my miscarriages when I would have my period. Having children is a righteous desire. Why was it so hard??? And why were there so many unwanted pregnancies and/or sucky parents in this world? Sometimes I’d get swallowed up in emotions and the what if’s. When I finally was pregnant again, I was SO paranoid. Every time I had any kind of dischargey feeling, my heart would drop to my stomach. Was it a sign of miscarriage? I had anxiety every time I went to the bathroom. I was riddled with fear before I’d wipe. I was so afraid of seeing blood.

I remember hearing the phrases, “You’ll have others” or “Something was wrong with the baby, so it’s a blessing it didn’t survive”. People would try to comfort me by telling me 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage. Those people were right, but they were also wrong. I just needed hugs, love, empathy and probably food. Food is always a helpful thing. Everyone grieves differently. Some want solitude and some want to be surrounded by people. The universal thing everyone needs/wants is food. (I had so many people bring food after my mom died. It was amazing. Some friends even brought me a basket filled with paper plates, cutlery, fruits and munchies. That was genius.)

I know people often times don’t know what to say when tragedy strikes. I’m sure I’ve said the wrong thing. If you don’t know what to say? Be honest and tell the person that you don’t know what to say. Mourn with them. Listen to them if they are ready to talk. Share your story of loss, if they’re ready to listen.

(After my mom died, I loathed hearing “I’m sorry for your loss” and “She’s in a better place”. One of my friends who suffered a great loss said he hated hearing, “If there’s anything I can do…”. He had the best response. He asked someone if he could have their car because they did said “anything”. I’ve found that if you feel like you should do something, go for it. Just do it. Those in mourning probably won’t ever reach out to ask for help. They’re just trying to survive.)

I also became so sensitive when people would ask when Keegan and I would start a family. Or when we’d have our next baby. (What I really wanted to do was answer with Nunya. Nunya business. I would’ve added a damn in there too.) I know people are well-meaning. I’ve been that person, but I’ve learned now to generally not ask people that extremely personal question. Newsflash: it really isn’t anyone’s business! Miscarriages and infertility and timing affect this. And what if you don’t want to have children of your own? It’s really none of our business, regardless of how much we care about our family and friends. I remember going to church and one of my past school teachers asked me when I was due, because I had some signs showing. What that teacher didn’t know is that I had JUST miscarried. I sobbed while sitting on the pew. Keegan was so sweet and tried to comfort me. I think I eventually had to leave the building. That question was such a trigger.

One thing I failed to realize throughout this all was that my husband was also grieving. I was so caught up in my own grief because it happened to me. But, Keegan suffered a loss. It happened to him too. He lost those babies too. It was different for him than it was for me, but it was so hard on him just the same. It was also hard for him to feel helpless when my body was weak and when my heart was broken. It was especially hard for him when I was transported in an ambulance due to extreme blood loss.

When I opened up to family and friends, that’s when healing happened. And that healing was then accelerated once I worked things out with Heavenly Father. I was amazed at how many people have experienced miscarriage and infertility. I’m so thankful for people sharing their story with me. There’s strength in sharing. Healing takes place with sharing. Let’s be better at sharing our story.

On New Year’s Eve, 2017, I had the thought that 2018 was going to be my year. I even said it out loud to anyone who would listen. That thought was soon obliterated. January 2nd, 2018 goes down as the worst day of my life.

I received news I had never considered I’d hear. My brother-in-law called me to tell me that we lost my mom. It didn’t register with me at all. I actually thought my mom was lost. I even giggled envisioning her walking around town, disoriented and in her muumuu and winter boots. But devastatingly enough, that wasn’t what he meant. It was an out-of-body experience once I absorbed what was said to me. I let out noises I didn’t know I was capable of making. I dropped to my knees and felt absolutely shattered. I felt so blindsided, so betrayed. We did not expect this at all. Yes, her health wasn’t the best it had been, but we thought we had years left with her. My mom would always tell me that she was a tough ol’ broad. That always gave me reassurance she’d be around for a long time. My mom was invincible to me.

My beautiful mother was only 61. I was only 35. My husband and I had a 6, 3 and 1 year old. This wasn’t right. This made no sense. How? Why? WHY? When my kids would cry for me or ask for me, I would cry and say that I understood. I just wanted my mom. Moms make everything better. We will always need our moms. It’s a fact, regardless of how old you are or how dysfunctional your family might be. To say I was absolutely devastated and broken was an understatement. I felt so robbed. I was too young to lose my mom. She was my cheerleader. She was my safe place. She was a source of love, support, strength and laughter. I felt that my children were so robbed. My kids were too young to lose a grandparent. My little one year old, Lachlan, will have no memories of his Grandma Margi. I felt sorrow, regret and guilt for not having more pictures of the kids with their grandma, especially Lachlan. I felt ripped off knowing I only had one video of her. ONE! (Guilt is a real part of grief, by the way.) I just always thought I’d have more time.

It was all just too much. I felt so much. I even felt anger towards my Heavenly Father. I felt abandoned. I felt so very alone. Did I mention I felt anger? (Anger is also SUCH a real part of grief.)

For the first few days after my mom died, I would wake up in the middle of the night. I would wake up and then the realization would hit that my nightmare was actually my reality. I couldn’t fall back asleep. One particular morning, I woke up at 3 and couldn’t fall back asleep, so I looked on my phone, hoping to distract myself from my new reality. A cooking video came on my Facebook newsfeed. As soon as I saw butter melting in a pot, I was committed to view the finished product. It was comfort food in all its glory: chicken pot pie. I thought to myself how amazing it would be to eat some chicken pot pie. I certainly was in no position to make any food for my family other than pouring milk into a bowl full of cereal. Eating chicken pot pie was not in my future, or so I thought.

Within one day of each other, two friends brought me chicken pot pies. Not one, but two! Soup, lasagna, casseroles, pizzas and the like are typically the comfort food people will bring over when there is a celebration or tragedy. Chicken pot pie certainly hasn’t been on the list. This wasn’t a coincidence. It was a divine influence. I broke down and cried. I was incredibly touched. And it reaffirmed to me that God was mindful of me and loved me. It showed me that He cared about me in all ways, even my insignificant desire for chicken pot pie. I needed this reminder so much. I was also reminded that He didn’t withhold love from me because I was angry with Him. I didn’t feel abandoned. I felt completely loved.

I’m forever grateful for those two friends who recognized and followed a prompting to bring me a chicken pot pie. They ministered to me in ways they couldn’t imagine. They helped me feel my Heavenly Father’s unconditional love when I needed to feel it the most. Their actions helped strengthen my own testimony of God’s love.

Remember that song by Alabama called Angels Among Us? That song is so powerful and beautiful. The chorus gets me every time.

“Oh I believe there are, angels among us
Sent down to us, from somewhere up above
They come to you and me, in our darkest hours
To show us how to live, to teach us how to give
To guide us with the light of love.”

I know firsthand that there are angels among us, both heavenly and earthly. This is one example, of many, where I’ve felt Heavenly Father’s love through other people. I’ve been blessed with that healing power of love. Because of this, I am trying harder than ever to pass that love along.

I’m trying to not shrug off those seemingly random thoughts. They are not random. They are promptings from the Holy Ghost. I am trying to recognize and follow through with those promptings. They might be the answer that someone struggling needs. I’m trying to not let my own insecurities or doubt get in the way of ministering. I’m certainly glad my earthly angels followed through.

Whether you have a feeling to take a chicken pot pie over, write a heartfelt card, or go grocery shopping for someone who doesn’t want to leave their house and face the world, PLEASE follow through with that feeling. I’m a recipient of all three, and more. I’m here to tell you that it has made a huge difference in my healing and grieving process. We shouldn’t downplay the difference we can make. We should be more like the Nike slogan and Just Do It.

Do you remember that segment on Saturday Night Live called Deep Thoughts By Jack Handey? It was my favourite.

Here are two deep thoughts I love. You’re welcome.

“The crows seemed to be calling his name, thought Caw.”

“Whenever someone asks me to define love, I usually think for a minute, then I spin around and pin the guy’s arm behind his back. NOW who’s asking the questions?”

Anyway, my mind doesn’t really shut off so I have a LOT of thoughts. Some are deep, and some are, well, not. I’ll share some of those with you.

1. Our tooth fairy gives $3 for the first tooth and then $1 for every tooth after. I’m suspecting our tooth fairy is a real cheapo compared to other tooth fairies. Hahah! What’s the going rate? Also, what the H do you do with all the teeth? I’m feeling like a creepy collector. (Show picture) I had this box hidden on our top shelf in one of our cabinets. Evie was snooping and somehow found the box of teeth. Busted!!! I had to quickly tell her why I had them. My reason was that I asked the tooth fairy to give them to me so I could show the kids their tiny teeth when they get older. The bad news is, I never separated them. The kids’ teeth are all mixed together. #toothcocktail

Also, do any of you feel like a fraud when you tell your kids about Santa, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny and Leprechauns? I’m going through a little something right now with feeling that way. However, I don’t want to be “that mom” who shares the truth to her kids too early. My childhood was magical and I want that for my kids. I’ve noticed a pattern that most kids have loose lips. I worry that my kids might share their enlightenment with their younger siblings or other kids who aren’t ready to know.

2. You know what I’m grateful for? The IKEA As Is section. You know how some of the items in that section are a little broken, tarnished or have missing pieces? Even so, someone still sees the value in those items. That’s like all of us! I needed that reminder. We are a little broken but still of value. We are all loved a LOT! I have felt like Humpty Dumpty, but I am being put back together again.

I know the phrase “I Am Enough” is used often, but it is empowering. I have done daily affirmations and this is one I make sure I say. There is power in what we say. There is definite power in what we say to ourselves. So friends, you ARE enough, as is. Say it out loud! Shout it if you need! (Reminds me of Drew Barrymore in Never Been Kissed when she yells, “I’m not Josie Grossie anymore!!!!”)

3. When something stinks, why do I take double, triple and even quadruple sniffs only to confirm that it stinks.

4. I feel like my maturity level is stuck at the jr high level. When someone asks me where something is, I have the strongest urge to say, “Up your butt and around the corner”. Or when someone says excuse me for any reason, I REALLY want to respond with, “It’s okay. I didn’t smell anything.”

Have I ever mentioned that I’m 37 years old?

5. In an attempt to make small changes to live a healthier life, I chose to use natural deodorant. My very young daughter needed to wear deodorant and I didn’t want to wear drugstore brands. It got me thinking. If I wouldn’t let her put these things on her body, then why would I allow them on my body?

Things I’ve discovered:

•My armpits react to baking soda. It took a while to discover that. I would get red, raised rashes that were bordering on painful.
•Some of these baking soda-free deodorants I tried would work for an hour and then I’d smell like I played in an onion patch.
•I also discovered I sometimes have skunky smelling armpits. Apparently that’s due to stress sweat. Who knew our bodies emanated different odors?
•After 8 months of trying to figure out what works best for me (most people would’ve given up and gone back to antiperspirants by now but not stubborn Jacquie), I discovered the Routine brand works the best. It’s so good and you can get it online, or at The Purple Carrot in Lethbridge. You can get it with or without baking soda.

That’s it for today! Stay tuned for more Deep Thoughts.

Do you remember the show Kids Say the Darndest Things hosted by Bill Cosby, when we still all loved him? It was my favourite show to watch. Well, I’m pretty lucky to have some pretty funny kids in my life. Here are some of my share-worthy stories. For some reason, all these stories are about body parts. Hahah!

1. Volunteering in Bennett’s preschool class last year made me miss being surrounded by students. I was always so entertained by the stuff kids would say. That day was no different. 😂😂😂

Teacher (reviewing carpet time rules): What’s our rule about hands?
Student: You can’t put your hands in your pants and touch your wiener.

The student was absolutely right, though.

2. Recently at church, I was singing with the nursery kids (aged 18 months-3years). We were singing, “I can tap my toes, I can tap my toes, I can tap my toes”. 🎶🎵

The kids had maracas and would tap whatever we sang about.

Me:
Who knows what else should we tap?

Lachlan, my 3 year old: (With both maracas on his chest 🎯🎯)
NIPPLES!!!!
😂😂🙈😳Hahahahahahahah!!!

Bonus story that also happened at church the same day. Lachlan kept poking, feeling and pushing on my chest at church. I asked him to stop and he said, “But I like to do it”.

This is why we sit at the back. This is why. Hahaha!

3. When I taught grade one, I was teaching a unit in social studies on rights and responsibilities. I asked the kids for examples of each. One student said, “When my mom and dad shower together I’m responsible for watching my little sister. ”

To close this segment of Kids Say the Darndest Things, I’ll mention another experience I had in grade one.

4. Now, I love leopard print. I’ve loved it since I was in high school and you could only purchase leopard print items in the sketchy store San Francisco. (Please tell me some of you remember that store! The further towards the back, the sketchier the store.)

Anyway, I was wearing a pair of leopard print shoes to school. As I was holding the door open for all grade one kids to come in from recess, one student said to me, “I like your shoes. My mom has panties just like them.”

Hahahahaha! Out of the mouth of babes!

For a while, one of my favourite songs was Issues by Julia Michaels. (I said it WAS a favourite for a while, because I tend to be intense with music and listen to my favourites non-stop. Then they stop being my favourite. Sometimes I’m a go big or go home kind of gal. 😬 Oh, and if you now have a hankering to listen to this, just know there is one cuss word.)

One part in the song goes like this:
‘Cause I got issues
But you got ’em too
So give ’em all to me
And I’ll give mine to you
Bask in the glory
Of all our problems
‘Cause we got the kind of love
It takes to solve ’em

I’m not going to delve into her meaning of the lyrics, but bottom line is we all have issues. And it takes love to solve them. Let’s discuss some of my issues, shall we?

Before I dig in, I must mention this. My new timeline of reference has turned into “before my mom died” and “after my mom died”. So, this past year and 9 months since my mom died have been that of accelerated healing and growth for me. Let’s call it Jacquie’s Journey 2.0. (My Jacquie’s Journey OG will be shared at some point.)

I have God and good people in my life. I’m blessed. In a way, I have given my issues to them. They have had a hand in my healing. They have all helped me more than I can even attempt to explain. Love is the higher law, I’ve genuinely discovered. Love is the answer.

One day, I was hit so hard with this truth from Matthew 22 verse 39 found in the New Testament. “Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.” (If you want the full scripture, you can find it here, starting at verse 36.) AS THYSELF!!!!! It hit me harder than hard. I realized I have have only focused on the first part of this scripture all along. I’m quite good at loving my neighbour. It’s easy for me to love other people. But the last part? I’ve never really given it attention as I only focused on the neighbour part. I have liked myself for the most part and I wouldn’t go as far to say that I hated myself. However, I realized that there was a deficit in my self love. And just like that, BOOM! This scripture was the answer to the root of all my issues.

As mentioned, I’ve always found it easy to love people. For deep rooted reasons, I’ve always imagined that it’s pretty hard for other people to love the real me. The flawed me. Insecurity, self doubt and all the things in between have been holding me back. In hindsight, I can see it all now. And it makes me so so sad. I never felt like I was enough. I would seek for others to fill me up with love. I was a validation-seeker. It’s like I needed it from other people because I couldn’t give it to myself. The downside to that is that what they gave me was never enough.

I’m happy to say that I’m well on my road to self-love recovery. I feel a tangible difference in how I view myself. It didn’t happen overnight. It’s been over a year of consistent work. Between God, my loved ones and some amazing professionals (counsellors, a naturopath, massage therapist and an EFT practitioner to just name a few), I have been able to work on a LOT of things. I’ve been called out on things. I’ve been challenged. I’ve had to reopen wounds to properly clean them so that they can properly heal. I’ve also been encouraged. I’ve been validated (not in an enabling way). I’ve dug deep and dealt with issues I didn’t know were even issues. Some of it hasn’t been easy. Some of it has been easier than I anticipated. Because of all of this, I realize that I am enough. I AM ENOUGH! And yes, I just yelled that. I realized I had it in me all along, but I needed help to see it.

Sometimes I try to default back to my old way of thinking. I now have the tools to question my thoughts. I don’t have to buy into that negative narrative any longer. My issues don’t define me any longer. Love defines me. The love my Heavenly Father and my Savior have for me defines me. It’s an unconditional love. The love I have for myself defines me. The love of others certainly adds an invaluable amount of meaning to my life, but it doesn’t define me. My own value isn’t dependent on what others think of me. This new awareness has been absolutely life changing. It’s been freeing.

Love is the answer. ❤️

“You are never too old to set another goal or to dream a new dream.” – C. S. Lewis

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I love a good quote. And this quote illustrates that I’m not too old to embrace my new goals and dreams! Keep reading to find out why I started this blog! Especially since I NEVER thought I’d have a blog. Like ever.

Shrek : For your information, there’s a lot more to ogres than people think.

Donkey : Example?

Shrek : Example… uh… ogres are like onions!

[holds up an onion, which Donkey sniffs]

Donkey : They stink?

Shrek : Yes… No!

Donkey : Oh, they make you cry?

Shrek : No!

Donkey : Oh, you leave ’em out in the sun, they get all brown, start sproutin’ little white hairs…

Shrek : [peels an onion] NO! Layers. Onions have layers. Ogres have layers… You get it? We both have layers.

[walks off]

Shrek, 2001

I’m not saying I’m like an ogre, but I can relate to the onion layers. (Actually, I can also relate to the stinking part. Like when I decided to try natural deodorant and some kinds did not work, leaving me to smell oniony or skunky. That’s for another blog post. Also, I can relate to sproutin’ little white hairs. Momma has clusters of those things growing along my hairline!)

I never ever thought I’d blog. It’s just never been an interest of mine. And I never thought anyone would want to read what I’d write. Here I am, though, blogging. I felt very strongly that I needed to do this. The story of why I started this puppy is for another blog post.

I LOVE to share. When I find something humorous, or have learned something or catch wind of something useful, I want to tell the world! My Facebook is full of my sharing. Just call me Sharing, Lois & Bram! (Please tell me you know of this amazing musical trio I grew up with! If not, you wouldn’t have found that funny in the least. Skinnamarinky dinky dink, skinnamarinky doo, I love youuuu!)

(Something you need to know about me is that I LOVE poorly photoshopped photos. It brings me such joy! 😂😂😂)

I need to get back to the layers thing. This blog has layers. It doesn’t fit one mold. It’s a personal sharing blog without restraints. I’ll share the funny, the raw, the vulnerable, the helpful, plus anything else this old gal needs to share.

As for the name? I wanted a blog name to not limit me, to not pigeon hole me into one category. For example, if I had Jacquie Of All Trades (I love a good play on words) as my blog name, readers might think it’s a DIY blog. Or if I named it I Am I Said, referencing Neil Diamond’s gem of a song, people might think I was a Dr Seuss fanatic. Truth be told, I am a big Neil Diamond and Dr Seuss fan. This name business has been an important/stressful factor to my sharing journey.

So, I used to love watching Will and Grace. Jack and Karen were my favourite characters. Jack would often throw his jazz hands up by his face and say, “Just Jack!”. That, along with my desire to be my authentic self, is how Just Jacquie was born. (Jazz hands) JUST JACQUIE!!!

I’ve learned a lot about anger, grief, fear, love, forgiveness, healing, hope and many other things in between. Thanks to my pal Brené Brown, I’ve also learned more about gratitude and vulnerability and to be brave. So here I am, showing up. I hope that some of the things I say can resonate with you. That you can feel support from me. That you feel you’re not alone. And maybe? Maybe you’ll even feel inspired.