Christmas Grief

Usually by this time every year, I am eating, breathing and sleeping Christmas. Sadly, I haven't had the time or the will to buy a tree or pull out any decorations this year. I could sit here and write about how I have been so busy with school and the kids, but I'd be lying.

The truth is I am just not feeling it.

 

A part of me wants to sing Christmas Carols and cover our home with tinsel, but most of me is just sad. I think a lot about what he'd look like by now. My precious boy. I wonder about what his first Christmas would have been like, about the look on his face when his brothers handed him his first present, about the mashed potatoes and soft pieces of biscuit he could have had for dinner on Thanksgiving.

 

This sucks...*sigh*

 

I'm trying, though. I even did something I never though I'd attempt again-

 

 Meet Rocky The Shih Tzu

 

It's been a couple of years since we've tried owning a dog. The last time we tried, our kids just weren't ready and I believe it ended with an overly-loved-by-two-subconciously-rough-toddler-boys pooch and a kid with deep teeth marks on his hand. I swore I just wasn't a dog person and vowed to keep pets as far away from my crazy kids for as long as I could (for the safety of the animals, really). Somehow, we ended up with this little guy and as much as I hate to admit it, (because I'm really not an animal lover) I kinda' like him. He has brought us a lot of smiles and even has us taking daily walks as a family.

 

 

 

And look-

Fall has arrived

 

 

 



I love how the leaves crunch as we walk

 

I can't believe it has been ten months. Last year, at this time, my little angel was tumbling inside me as I counted the days until I got to hold him, so I could look into his eyes and tell him I'm his momma. I got to hold him and I got to tell him, but I never got to look into his eyes....and that just breaks my heart.

 

Grief is such a sad, lonely place. Especially around the holidays. While everyone shops and wraps and decorates and cooks, grievers wonder about that person who should have been there to share the magic. We wonder about our parents and brothers and sisters and uncles and grandparents and children gone too soon. We question if it is OK to smile and forget about the sadness for a second without offending our loved ones in heaven. We think about the memories- good and bad. We hide to cry for a few minutes, so that we can fake a smile for a few hours. We all know we aren't alone in our sadness, yet the solitude we feel is overwhelming.

 

I'm sorry if you are hurting this holiday season. Please know you aren't alone. I'm thinking of you. I share your pain. I'm praying for you. It's going to be ok. One day at a time.

 

 Cry. Breathe. Smile.

I will too.

 

Sweet precious angel, I love you with all of who I am. I think about you, I dream about you, I feel you near. Momma will never forget those 39 amazing weeks and those few hours I got to hold you, feel you and sing you the same lullabies I sing to your brothers. Thank you for picking me.

Your entire life took place inside me. I am so lucky.

Fly high, blue cherub.

I love you.

 

 





The Gift of Peace of Mind

Today started pretty bad. I had been up most of the night tossing and turning, unable to get into a comfortable position. I suppose it doesn't matter when you have to empty your bladder six to eight times a night.....or when there is a tiny person beating the heck outta your guts from the inside. Not gonna lie, I kinda' like it :)

Somehow I managed to get through a long day at school. By 2:30 p.m. Pacific Standard time, I was driving down route 66, in my red convertible with my hair whooshing in the crisp, fall wind....ok, not really...I took Baseline and I was in a truck with my hair in a messy bun, but I had the windows down and it felt really good.

Anyway, when I checked my voicemail, I heard a sweet message from a good friend asking me if she could drop something off. She didn't say what, but I like surprises, even though they make me nervous and a tad gassy, so I didn't ask any questions and offered to come pick it up instead since I was in the area.

I pulled up and saw her holding a little bag. Any pregnant woman can tell you the excitement that comes when someone hands you a little pastel-colored baggy.

Ooooooh! what can it be? bibs, bottles, blankies, brownies..... !!!!

Never could I have imagined what I'd find inside.

Last week, I freaked out because I hadn't felt the baby move the way he usually does. After a couple of days of worrying, I asked some of my closest friends for prayers before rushing off to the ER. Fortunately, everything was ok.

I don't know how I will ever be able to express my gratitude for this amazing, unique gift. I can't believe I can listen to his heart whenever I want. I hate to sound like a 13 year old girl (Ok, I secretly like it), but I seriously totally have like the bestest friends in the whole world. You guys rock! Like, yeah! *tear*

But for realz now, yo'-

These women have helped carry me through the darkest days of my life. Never once have they deserted me.  Even before my Ian went to be with the angels, they have always been there. I'll never forget the gifts, the cards, the meals, the flowers, the words, the prayers, the kindness....

I feel blessed.

 I love that I can still see the goodness in life, even after going through something as tragic as losing a child. Something I never thought I'd have to do. I love that the sun still shines through the clouds. And on particularly cloudy days, I love that I can still find it in myself to dance in the rain, even if it takes me a while to gather the will and the strength. I love that because of this wound, I am able to cherish the things I once took for granted. I love that I can hug my babies a little tighter.

I'll never get over it. I'll never completely move on. And I'm sure I'll still have days when I just want to hide in the dark to cry alone. Please know that on the days when the pain takes over, I am still grateful.

Today started pretty bad.....

but it ended so perfectly.

Last week, I added another lesson to my repertoire of Life Lessons I Wish I Didn't Have to Learn the Hard Way. I won't beat around the bush- I have gestational diabetes. I can't say I am surprised, as diabetes runs strongly in my genes.....that, and I have been stuffing my face silly. Fun's over. Time to get serious.

There are some cookies on the table calling my name, but putting myself in a position that may risk this baby's life is not an option. I'm too scared to even think of what this could mean.

Another Ian. No, no, no. I wouldn't survive.

I've been sticking to my meal plans very well. I lost three pounds in four days, which is a good start on the ton of weight I have to lose after this baby is done baking. 

I feel privileged in so many ways. I can't believe God granted me the opportunity to grow another one of His mysteriously complex human beings inside me. What an honor.

I love feeling him move inside me. It brings back sweet memories of carrying my other boys. Most of those memories bring smiles to my face. Others bring tears. It is always clear how truly blessed I am, though.

I watched Rabbit Hole on Netflix a few nights ago. I knew what it was about before I started it and I knew I'd cry (more like sob), but I think I needed that, so I watched it anyway. It was comforting to see people fall apart the way I do almost every day. It made me feel a bit more normal to see people grieving in their own way. Believe it or not, it was nice to see that gut-wrenching pain that creeps up on you during the most inconvenient moments, strike someone besides me. Although scripted, it was healing to see these characters cry for their children the same way I do. Whether it was a four year old boy who ran into the street chasing after his dog or a thirty year old heroine addict who couldn't break the habit, they both had mothers who loved them and wanted nothing more than to have their babies back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was hoping to write a bit more tonight, but I can feel my blood-sugar getting low and cookies are not an option. 

I hope you all had a beautiful weekend. 

XOXO

Selective Amnesia

Disclaimer: I apologize if this post makes no sense. I wrote and wrote and wrote without stopping or looking back.

Last night I had a dream that I was breastfeeding a baby boy. I'm not sure if it was Ian or the baby growing inside me now. Either way, it was beautiful and I was reminded of how much I was looking forward to breastfeeding Ian. Any mother who has breastfed can tell you what an incredible bonding experience it is. I wanted that for us.
I'm trying very hard to be at peace. Some days it takes more effort than others. Today is one of those days. I can't stop thinking about him and my heart throbs with love and pain all at once. Every day, I remember something that my brain had managed to block from my memory in an effort to keep me functioning as normally as possible.
When I stepped into a hot shower after a long, busy day a few weeks ago, I remembered the events of that morning, one bye one. I remembered how I got up really early with a dull back ache and how I stepped into a hot shower attempting to relieve the pain a bit and trying to make baby move. I remember poking my belly and whispering "come on, baby, kick me, move, do something". I remembered knowing in the back of my mind that he was gone, yet desperately trying to hang on to hope.
That could never happen to me, I thought. Never. Not me. That kind of thing only happens to others.
It's impossible to think of that day without shedding a few tears.

I also remembered how a few days before he was born, I was folding his clothes and making space for them in the closet when I had this strange feeling come over me. It was telling me that I was never going to use these clothes, not for Ian. I tried to convince myself that I was being paranoid as I often tend to be about any of my children. It was a powerful feeling, scary and sad, but I ignored it. That same night, I had this sudden urge to google "stillbirth stories". I thought for sure my hormones were going crazy and I was simply looking for a way to have a good cry. I read a few stories, sobbed like a crazy, pregnant lady and went to bed. All these signs God was sending me, yet I chose to cling to faith.

The most painful memories, that just recently decided to slap me in the face as well, are the ones of the few days after his birth. That baby-less car ride home, those cold March days without a warm baby to snuggle with, the sudden bursts of tears at the grocery store or any public place at the sight of any mother holding their infant child, my mom literally lifting me off my bedroom floor every time the pain became too much to bear alone....those memories torture me like no others. I don't know if I'll ever make peace with any of those.

The list goes on and on. I don't know if my brain has suddenly decided to torture me with all of these fresh memories or if it has simply decided that I'm ready to cope with them without losing my mind. I've been crying a lot. A lot. There are so many thoughts and emotions going through me all at once. I feel like I have so much to say, yet I'm speechless at the same time.

I feel like the world has moved on without me. Everyone's lives go on and I'm stuck on that day. I hate waking up to beautiful, sunny days and feeling so ugly and dark inside. I hate having to answer questions from two very curious little boys who wonder if this baby will die too. I hate knowing that I will spend an entire lifetime wondering about a little boy who never took a single breath outside of my womb.

It feels like yesterday, but on the 23rd it will be eight long months since I last felt his soft, little body nestled in my arms. Eight months since his short life inside me changed who I am forever. Eight months of warm, salty tears running down my cheeks. Eight months of wondering what he would look like by now. Eight months of trying to make sense of a senseless tragedy. Eight months of grueling heartache. Almost the same amount of time I spent dreaming of holding him, has now gone by with me looking for ways to live without him.

And now, the only things left for me to do is to be grateful. Hard to believe, but I have found ways to be grateful. I feel so blessed and lucky to be the only one who felt him while he was alive. I am the only one who knew his every kick and hiccup. His entire life took place inside me. He went from my womb, straight into the arms of our Heavenly Father. Of all the mommas in the world, He chose me. Me. I carried an angel inside me. And one day, when it is my turn to go, he will be there, waiting for me. I hope it isn't any time soon, but I look forward to it, the same way I was looking forward to breastfeeding him.

There are no words to describe how much I miss you, little boy. I fight through the pain of not having you (physically) with me. Every. Single. Day. But I know your spirit is near. I smell you often. I feel you with me. I love you, cherub. I know some day we will be together again.

Today, Pain Took Over

I don't even know how to start this post. This unspeakable pain is unpredictable.  I'm so heart-broken, angry, confused, sad...so many feelings all at once. I don't know how I manage to get through most days, because today I cried all day long and that felt more "normal" than smiling. The sadness felt like "home sweet home". I needed to cry so badly. I needed to go back and allow myself to feel the raw emotions of that day.
Today was hard, to say the least. Today, I threw all the wisdom and strength I have gained during the past seven and a half months out the window and I allowed myself to scream and pout and kick. I let myself go back to that very moment when my own body betrayed me and I became a walking, living, breathing grave to my unborn child's tiny body.
I wish people would stop telling me how strong I am. I'm not strong! I'm the weakest I've ever been. Some days I have to fight through tears and sorrow just to make breakfast for my little boys. Other days I want to close my eyes and disappear, so that I don't have to explain to anyone why I can't stop crying.
This stabbing, sinking, unbearable pain is so deep, it takes my breath away at times. It makes me question everything I thought I knew for sure, like His presence in my life and my will to keep on going. I question it all, because I miss him so much and I just can't imagine getting through an entire lifetime without him.
It's not fair, it's just not fair. I want to fall on the floor and drown in a pool of my own tears. I'm broken. So broken.
Ian, baby, I need you so much. Come visit me today, please. I need to feel you close.
I don't know what to do with myself. I just want my baby.
Today the pain took over. Tomorrow, who knows?
I'll be OK, I know I will. I'm holding on tight to the three little people who need me here on earth. Tomorrow I will wake up with a swollen face and a wounded soul, and I will make breakfast for the two bravest, most sweetest little boys I know. They need their momma.
I love you, Ian. Fly high, angel boy.

Boys

I always knew I'd be a mom. Always. I'm not going to lie, it's been a lot harder than I ever thought, but it has also been the most rewarding thing I've done in my 27 years of life. I grew up with two brothers and my mom is the only female out of six. Still, I never could have imagined that I'd have four boys. Four!

I always imagined dolls and little, pink toys laying around my home and combing long curls and applying lip gloss to tiny women eager to be all grown up. It never crossed my mind that I'd be helping little boys put transformers together or planning secret missions accross dangerous territory with plastic guns and RPGs at hand.

I believe it's human nature to want what you don't have. For yourself as well as others. When you see a mom with all girls, your first instinct is to ask if she wants a boy and the same thing for moms of boys. I'd be lying if I said I've never had that same thought, but life and circumstances have a way of teaching you to mind your own business.

Not long ago, after Ian passed away, I had someone say "well at least it was just another boy and not a girl". I suppose it was a sorry attempt to be comforting, and I'm sure this person has never had to say goodbye to their baby's little body and watch a nurse put a blanket over his sweet little face while wheeling him out of your hospital room for the last time. And I hope with all of my heart that this person never has to go home with a memory box of their child's footprints and a lock of his thin, brown hair. As insensitive as that comment was, I don't wish this pain on anyone. And just for the record, no my pain wouldn't have been greater had I lost a little girl and no, my pain wasn't any less because I already had two boys at home waiting for their baby brother.

I can't tell you how my heart melts when one of my boys hugs me and says "I love you, mommy" or how happy it makes me to hear them making zombie/ war/ monster/ explosion noises or how I admire their love for one another, even after they get done trying to strangle eachother.

I love watching them play super heros and I can't think of a better way to spend my Friday night than eating popcorn and watching He-Man. I've also developed a unique love for Transformers and Hot Wheels. And bathing with Bubble Gum scented Spider Man body wash makes me feel a little closer to heaven.

Words could never express how much I adore my little boys. I love knowing that they'll always have each other. I hope that they grow to be wonderful, sweet, productive men and amazing fathers.

And my Ian, oh my Ian, my heart beats a little faster whenever I think about him. My third boy. My sweet baby. My angel. With each passing day, I know I'm a little closer to seeing him again. An overwhelming amount of love and pain take over for a few minutes several times a day. Salty tears fill the crevice between my smiling lips while my mind is flooded with all the memories of that day and suddenly I'm there all over again. I can smell him and feel his skin against mine. I love you, cherub.

And now, another boy on the way. And I have boxes full of clothes in all shades of blue. Clothes that were for Ian. Clothes that will bring sorrow and sweetness all at once, when I see this tiny new being fill them. And my boys will always know that they have a brother in heaven. They will always know that they are one of four.

I'm sure having little girls would be a blast and perhaps some day I'll be blessed with one. Right now though, these four boys have my heart. All of it. Each one holding a special place.

I'm just grateful that of all the mommas in the world, God chose me to love and protect them.

And for the record, it's been a priviledge.

It's a Boy!

A sweet baby boy!