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

Crying my way thru the day

No worries everyone! Dark, dismal, and crying had been replaced by a lovely fuzzy Xanax induced state of being.  After finding myself sobbing hysterically in a fast food parking lot, it was time to come home and surrender to pharmaceutical help.

These days happen.  Not often and usually not to the extent of today's melt down, but they happen.  The embarrassment of mascara streaks and puffy eyes is just normal for me now. 

I should make disclaimer cards for when a stanger stumbles upon me during these moments.  Something that says

Caution!  The woman who handed you this card is a heartbroken bereaved mom.  She doesn't have the words to explain her tears. Back away slowly without looking her in the eyes and everything will be ok.

I'm amazed at how many places I've burst into tears.  Most times I couldn't even tell you what triggers it. 

But tears are ok.  They mean I haven't closed down. Tears release some of the pain that stabs at me all day long.  I daydream about way to turn off the pain.  That would be a welcome change some days... to just drink myself into a stupor until I simply don't care.  But my reality is that I live my kids too much to make them witness me like that.

So after crying my way through most of Lockport, hopefully tomorrow will be gentler.  Or at the least, sunny so I can hide behind my sunglasses! 

Btw... Doesn't everyone ask for a stack of napkins with their iced tea in the drive thru?  Geez....  There's a very confused kid at DD that had to deal with a crazy lady crying in her car this afternoon.  I wonder if I made his newsfeed ;)

#doitforcj

Me and CJ...

Walking through Target today an interesting conversation occurred.  I allowed myself to wander through the baby boy clothes and picked up a darling denim jacket.  I caught myself saying outloud  "this would be too stinking cute on you" and looked towards my cart half expecting it to be topped with an infant seat. 

It's a tricky relationship being a mom to an angel.  For the sake of my sanity, I need to nurture my relationship with CJ.  My soul screams to mother him, my arms ache to hold him, and my mind is constantly trying to make sense of his absence.  I spend my days with a constant dialog churning in my heart.  I am an unbalanced mix of feeling comforted and haunted.

I tell him the simple things.  What I need to accomplish that particular day, how much I miss him, and with every breathe I take I wish I could skip the next to be with him.

There is a fine line between depression and sadness.  And yet another between suicidal and heartbroken.  My desire to live a nice long life has been diminished, but that does not mean I would take my own life. 

Standing in the cemetery yesterday I watched a funeral procession drive by.  You can always tell when it is an elderly person being buried.  While somber, the mourners are typically calm and at peace.  When it is a child, the pain is palpable. The parents cry with the same force needed to dig the small grave into the frozen ground.  I flashback to sitting in front of that small grave.  The feelings of complete disbelief.  Not knowing where my path was about to lead. 

I'm still stumbling.  The path is hard to see and confusing.  But today I'm still standing.  I may standing in the middle of Target talking to myself, but i'm still standing....

#doitforcj

Rainy nights ...

As the rain pours down tonight, I am haunted.  Haunted by the "should be" thoughts that meander through my mind on nights like these.

I should be pacing outside of the nursery room door hoping the thunder doesn't wake my sleeping son.  He should be here in footie pjs wrapped in a blanket well washed from swaddling his sisters.  His sisters should have shut their doors in the hopes of not hearing him crying from the thunder startling him.

How do we move on from those thoughts?  I collapsed in my husbands arms for a brief moment this evening praying outloud for just a few precious moments of amnesia.  Just long enough for me to exhale fully and regain enough strength to take the next breathe. I beg to God often for just a brief moment to forget.  This weight that pins me in place is exhausting. 

Tonight, CJ and I are listening to the storm together.  We are missing out on easy sleep and peaceful dreams.  His physical absence doesn't erase his footprint on my heart.  On several occasions, I have awaken in pure excitement after feeling "phantom kicks".  Then reality sets in that my sweet boy is gone and I crumble.  I feel him with me so strongly some nights.  Lying awake the weight of his body lying on my chest comforts me.  My arms ache.  They physically ache to hold my sweet little bundle just one more time.  I have contemplated ordering a teddybear made to his birth weight, but I fear I'll never put it down. 

When you hear the rain against the windows, remember those mommies who have buried their babies.  Pray for us as we desperately try not to think about our child in their grave.  But most of all, be patient with me.  My heart has yet to come to terms with my reality.   Nights like tonight bring it all flooding back. Hopefully tomorrow through the predicted storms I can find a few moments of calm to let hope seep back up through the cracks.  Heaven knows those cracks are big enough...

#doitforcj