there's always tomorrow.

Today was one of those lonely reminder days.

The race is over and it was everything [and more] than I could have dreamed...but life resumes.  After a big event, everyone's life goes back to normal.  Business as usual.

And my life does too.  My new normal.

You know what's hard on these lonely days?  The selfish confliction.  

It's knowing that everyone else around me is capable of finding love and happiness in their life and wanting that for them more than anything yet feeling selfishly like I just want everyone to understand the kind of pain and sadness I will probably always feel.

It's twisted.  It feels twisted even writing it.  And I hate myself for it.

Mabel woke up at 8:30 this morning and cried hysterically until 5:30.  That's nine hours if you do the math.  I started crying with her at 4:30.  

I feel like I would never know if something were truly wrong.  

Then I remember that I'm her mom.

But the constant crying is just too much.  And I feel helpless.  And tired.

And so so sad.

It's hard to wrap my mind around the fact that I'm raising awareness and holding amazing events in MY daughter's name.  She's my baby.  

I can't make sense of it some days.  

I have this beautiful group of wonderful people who constantly surround me and I am so blessed.  They made the night of the race so special to me.  It's intimate moments in the middle of some corn field laughing at each other and our own old stories that make my life complete.  I feel so honored to have them and I want nothing more than for them to be happy.  

Because that's what they do for me.

I'm learning that the highs and lows are only dimensions of the more critical parts of me.  The in between is the greatest part.  

I lovingly refer to it as 'the grey.'  

I live there alot.

We raised an incredible amount of money from the race.  We are still selling shirts and still have expenses from the race to pay but I cannot wait to reveal the final total.
I'm blown away.  

Life is sure a beautiful mess sometimes.  

Like today-a beautiful, scary, sad mess.  But tomorrow will be completely changed, morphed and new too.  I can't wait to see what that means for me...

To all my zebra mommies--

hang in there.  

You're so tough.  You're so brave.

You may look and feel tired but no one sees it.  They see your strength.  They see your ease.  And if they do see it, they will never tell you because they love you that much.  

This is all you have and you do it well.  

I'm so proud to know you.

I'm ending this night with thoughts of trashy tv and ice cream.  

Cheers to tomorrow.

The sun will come out, right?