Hurting moments. ..

The sun is setting. Despite the clear blue sky,  the chill in the air has me sitting in my car.   In the cemetery.  

I wanted to tell him I love him.   That yesterday I risked opening up fresh wounds to share his story.  I planned on singing him a lullaby and telling him sweet dreams.  Instead I sobbed.   I sobbed tears that have been kept hidden for a few weeks.  Tears screaming to be released in acknowledgment of so much pain.  Too much pain for anyone to survive, let alone smile after experiencing.
I don't understand this journey.   I simply don't understand why I'm sitting in a cemetery alone as the sun goes down and the world keeps turning. Doesn't everyone know CJ DIED?   His little body is buried a few yards away with the majority of who I used to be. 

This is my reality.  For everyone who thinks I'm so strong,  you are wrong.  I am broken in ways that you can't begin to understand.  After this meltdown,  I'll clean up the mascara smudges and drive thru for a diet coke fix and pick up a kid at church.   Eventually I'll go home to do the normal things we all tackle- laundry, dishes,  email...  Tomorrow I'll get up and do it all over again.  Maybe the day will be easier,  but possibly not.

But for tonight,  my tears hurt...

The waiting room...

A big part of my healing is speaking out.   I have told or story a few times in the medical community not out of malice for the beautiful souls that cared for us, but out of love for the next families to walk this unexpected journey.

Today I was invited to speak at a 2 day conference being hosted at our hospital.  When I realized the organizer was a nurse I have worked very close with to make a few changes happen. I eagerly volunteered my time to help out with  anything they needed.   I was here promptly at 2 as scheduled, and as quickly as I could take off my coat, I was lovingly escorted out.   It seems as soon as I quietly sat in back the radar of 2 nurses went off.   I was a potential emotional wreck in the making I guess.  I hadn't even had a chance to focus on the current presentation let alone get upset.

So I'm sitting in a waiting room in the hospital out of earshot.   Waiting until my time to share my story and knowing whatever presentation that is happening in there may be planting preconceived impressions of who I am and what I have to share.   Then again,  it may have also effected my words if I had listened in.  

I guess my rawest thought right now is so what if I got emotional?   So what if the information hurt to hear? Isn't it SUPPOSED to?   We are talking about the death of my child.   Talk to any loss mom and I promise you pure astonishment in the medical terminology she has acquired in her journey. Most of us can not only follow, but contribute to the most medically driven conversation on the topic.  Most of us are better informed than the very medical community charged with caring for us.

In a few minutes I'll head back towards the floor.   Let them see me pacing eagerly to share my son.   I'm ok with that.   If I cry,  that ok.  There were tissue boxes everywhere in that room of about 50 healthcare professions.  We may even laugh.   All that matters is that I'm heard.   Get ready folks...  I'm about to#doitforcj !

Living with loss...

I'm feeling a bit side swept by an overwhelming feeling of loss tonight.   Of course for my son,  but for so many other things also.

Dreams that turned into reality mostly.  How often do we dream so lofty and be blessed with it's fruition?  13 years of waiting and praying to add to our family materialized for no rhyme or reason.   I had not taken fertility treatments. My faith had been steady.  Why at that time? One of those questions I'll never really understand.

We lost CJ.  A week later we lost or 15 yr old dog.  2 weeks later we got a puppy,  who passed away as soon as we all became attached.   It was a never ended onslaught of loss.   We were like refugees,  stumbling through life.  The kids were in a new school district.   We were in a new community where nobody knew us.  We were lost.

The funny thing is,  being lost doesn't always mean you need to return to the same starting place.  We tried that and what was waiting there had lost it's luster.  What we realized wad while we had such a beautiful community of supporters living us through our hell,  a few people that we had banked too much of our lives on completely flaked.

With love,  we survived.  We recognized those who stepped forward to be there on the ugly nights.  Extended family that started dropping in to check on us and listened when we didn't have a clue how to put to words our pain.  Relationships were strengthened, renewed, and even forged.   A few we let go of.  A few let go of us.  We have changed our physical surroundings as well as emotional.  And slowly,  we have redefined home.

This feeling of loss tonight is hopefully short lived.  New pets have helped us direct a bit of our broken hearts to something to nurture.  Future plans to get out of Chicago winters for good have us excited for the future.  Something is missing.  Something will ALWAYS be missing.   But even with loss, there's life.

#doitforcj