Another day in this reality...

I'm sitting in the tall cool grass next to my son's grave watching the sun set.  talk about surreal.

The bird are chirping and I can hear the scampering of squirrels in the branches above me.  A hawk wad circling for a bit, but then headed across the street to the river.

When I pulled up, a grieving daughter was lying on her dad's grave sobbing.  I admit to being annoyed.  I wanted to visit CJ, but she was right next to him.  I gave her some time and space after realizing grief isn't a competition.  The rules are unrealistic and the pain is real. 

So here I sit.  Dreading the approaching darkness that will bring our time together to an end for today.  Bewildered that this is my life, and heartbroken. 

Missing my sweet little boy....

almost 9 months... caution:this mommy is not taking it well tonight.

Just an hour and a half until the 9 month mark.  9 months ago I was in labor.  I was heartbroken and terrified of what was about to happen.  How do you explain what it is like to labor with a child that has already died?  You can't.  It's beyond words.  It's beyond explanation.  It's just too much.

I remember early in the grief process devouring books and blogs looking for a timeline on when I would no longer want to die.  I needed someone to simply say to me "just hang on for such and such amount of time, and you will survive".  Nobody had the guts to put that timeline out there.  I realize now because it is simply impossible.  9 months out I may function better on a daily basis, but 99% of that is purely faking it.  A callous has started to form that allows the feeling to be held back for chunks of time so that I can act acceptably in public.  As long as I can keep my beloved sunglasses on, that is!

Mothers Day came and left as quietly as possible in our home this year.  We skipped mass for what could be the 1st Mothers Day ever.  The kids gave me cards and hugs, and cautiously let me be.  In the afternoon we went to the cemetery.  While my husband and children quietly stood at CJ's grave, I simply wouldn't allow myself to engage.  This reality was not one I was able to deal with, so I shut down.  No tears, no words.  I just glared at the earth that had yet to recover from being ripped open for my son.  I could relate to that small patch of earth.  Raw and unhealed.  When we got home the girls kept suggesting dinner, which I just ignored.  I think they eventually made themselves ramen.  Great way to parent on a day meant to honor mother's, huh?  My husband was no better.  He alternated complaints of being tired or having a headache all day.  Nothing better then receiving the ever so popular "whatever" response accompanied by a definitive unhappy expression when I even suggested we take a walk somewhere.  The day simply sucked.

So 9 months out, things still hurt horribly.  I'm learning to function, but tears are daily. I want to run away.  As childish as that sounds,  life is just too much.   I would love to pack up and disappear from this life.  To wake up somewhere warm (that will stay warm even in January) where the environment is healing.  Where I can walk a beach at sunset and feel the ocean breeze against the tears on my cheeks.  Even our vacation was a crazy whirlwind of a week.  Anything to not stand still and remember.  I need some time.  Even if just a weekend.  I desperately need some time away to stop running through this life in fast forward.

9 months sucks.  I'm not beating myself up, I'm just being honest.  For every other mom out there following me, I don't want to sugar coat this process.  Maybe as I sit here and wait for the calendar to change to the 13th,  I'll find an overwhelming feeling of peace or acceptance. Maybe as the tears fall some of the pain will be released.  Or maybe I'll pour a glass of wine or allow myself a Xanax just to be able to catch my breath.   However this crappy night plays out, tomorrow is another chance to find a few moments of peace.  My crazy band of babyloss mommies will commiserate online with me until the early morning hours. It's a sisterhood that is my lifeline.   

54 more minutes until the 13th.  I can't believe it's only 54 min until 9 months...

Don't wait

Tonight my mind is on one simple thought.

Don't wait.

Share love with those around you. Not only by telling them, but show them.  Hug your kids every day.  EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.  Don't wait.

Take advantage of the opportunity of supporting a kid in your village as if they are your birth child.  Cheer them on at sporting events, listen to their concerts.  Participate and celebrate their accomplishments.  Go THIS TIME.  Don't wait.

Tonight our evening consisted of taking 2 teen daughters plus their boyfriends to watch the 3rd daughter's bf in a baseball game.  We cheered and laughed. We were an odd village to onlookers, but a happy one. While climbing over our slew of teens on a food run, I jokingly grabbed the face of one of my girls and kissed her cheek. I expected squeals, but instead was greeted by a returned hug and her sister demanding her kiss next.  I took advantage of a moment and they soaked it up.  I've learned not to wait.  I've also learned that they don't want me to.

Our favorite ball player was cut from the team tonight.  We were there to watch him catch the last 3 innings.  we were there.  That's all that matters!

Tomorrow my village of sweet crazy teens may look different, but I will love them the same.  God gave me a mothers heart.   And while my arms ache horribly this weekend,  i'm going to do my best to love the kids God has given me on earth as well as holding for me in heaven.  I could easily hide away starting the holiday is to hard, but then I would miss out on the love. 

Don't wait.  Hug that crabby teenager.  #doitforcj

Blankies and blessings

It seemed like such a simple idea.  Rally the kids to help me do a 1 hour tidy up on the basement.  We went down armed with trash bags determined to sort through some old games my teenagers haven't touched in years.  What I was faced with was stacks of CJ's things.

A few boxes of clothes, highchair, stroller, swing...  Most of what was stored had only been placed in just the right places a few days before we said goodbye.  My sweet husband swiped everything I asked him to away to the basement.  A few sheet were tossed on them to protect from dust, but they were obviously tossed down quickly and never really dealt with.

I admit to slowly picking through a few bins.  Blankets the girls loved as toddlers caught my eye and were brought up to be washed.  The smiles on their faces when they saw them was adorable.  It felt oddly comforting to return them.

I took offense today when another mom said to me "atleast you have other kids. I have none."   At first it seemed like such a callous thing to say to me.  But watching 2 of our kids laugh with excitement to be given their old blankies, I admit to feeling so blessed.  There is no possible way to miss CJ more.  Looking into the faces of our children is a constant reminder of his absence.  Yet with every hug and "I love you, mom" comes healing. 

Mothers Day is almost here.  This one will be very, very different for me.  I'm trying to prepare my heart for my reality while my mind reminds me of my beautiful children still here on earth.   Another 1st being an angel mommy.  Please remember those women around you this week feeling mounting anxiety for this weekend while missing angels.  Tread lightly on their hearts. No matter if their arms are full or empty here on earth, a piece of her heart is forever missing.

#doitforcj