November 5, 2011

Tomorrow is my birthday.  I turn thirty-one.  The last few years will always be remembered as the worst years of my life.  Even this year seems to be pretty drab.  How many times can people tell you, "We're praying for you" before it stops sounding encouraging and start to sound, "boy your life starks."  I have some close friend who I know are praying out of love not pitty.  I do appreciate that.

Last year I didn't really celebrate, just had dinner with family before crying myself to sleep.  This year my birthday is on a sunday and I am spending it with people from the church.

It is hard not to compare last year and this year.  I was trying to explain why even though things are not better, life seems to keep going.

It's as though I was in a room with no windows and someone suddenly turned off the light.  At first I could see nothing.  It didn't matter if there were other people around or not.  The room was black andI felt completely disorientated.  As time has passed my eyes have adjusted to the dim light.  At first it was only those close by that I could see.  Having my family close and wanting them to stay close.  I started to remember where I was and what was going on before the light went away.  Then you start to notice little lights, ones that were dim and unnoticeable with the bright light on.  God's truth that had been over looked, or at least not the focus of my life, suddenly shone brighter than before.  Time keeps passing and I keep adjusting to the darkness.  Heaven shines brighter in the distance.  I continually notice more and more in the dark room.  But the room is still dark, the light is still off, the world I thought I knew still looks strange and the God I love shines brighter, so brights at times my eyes don't want to look.

Life never "goes back" to normal, where you are just becomes a new normal.

October 16, 2011

Last weekend I had so many memories from "one year ago" that were so prescious to me.  Memories that brought a smile to my face and filled my heart with joy.  I could remember the first signs of labor.  I could remember the first time I held my son.  I could remember showing him off to everyone who visited.  I remembered my Dad being able to come to the hospital and hold James.

This week I remember watching Jon clean the crib for my early child.   I remembered the night I went over the AWANA verses with my baby in my arms.  Happy memories.

But this weekend the memories are not happy.  "One year ago" was not a time of meeting and joy but a time of goodbye and sorrow.  I remember how helpless I felt as he cried.  I remember how scared I felt when he wouldn't really wake up.  I remember the doctor's face as he said, "Your little boy is very sick."  I remember the panic in the ER nurse's voice when she said, "the paper work can wait we need the mother back here now."  I remember watching as the helicopter took him away.  I remember  the wires hooked up to him after surgery and the nurse who was manually pumping air into his lungs.  I remember seeing the ultrasound as it showed bleeding in his brain.

I remember saying goodbye and holding him for the last time.  Now a year later my arms feel so empty.  I miss him so much.  I love my son and never want to forget him but today remembering is so hard.

October 9, 2011

Today is James' first birthday.   We had to celebrate without him.  I wanted to keep things small and simple.  I wanted to remember him but not to be pitied.  There is nothing worst than having people ask, "How are you?" while looking at you like they expect you to burst into tears.  I suppose no one knows how they would deal with a situation until they are in it.  And everyone deals differently.

I appreciated the phone call from a friend who understood not only what I was going thru but also that feeling and emotions are not predictable.  I appreciated all the close family praying for us but also grieving on their own for the grandson or nephew that they lost.  He was so small yet his life has affected so many.  It made me smile to hear my nephews had wished him a happy birthday in their prayers.

I didn't want my daughter to feel like they had to be sad but I hope I didn't make them feel like they had to be happy either.  It was a nice quiet day.  I spent it with a few tears right behind my eyes and a small lump in the back of my throat.

Now I feel so tired, drained, maybe I was trying too hard.

Oct 3, 2011

It's October already.  The year went by so fast and yet so slow.  I'm trying not to remember or look back until next week.  Thats when I have time off work and it won't matter if my eyes are red or if I decide to take a nap in the middle of the day.  This week I'm keeping busy, keeping distracted.

How do you remember a birthday of someone who isn't here.  How do you celebrate.  My daughters will be watching everything I do.  They will be wanting to know why.  What can I tell them when I'm not sure.  I want them to know not only is Baby James still very important to us but so are they.  I will never forget any of my children.  I want them to know we can be happy he was born.  He was a gift from God , one I would have liked to keep longer.

Heaven feels so far away right now.  

September 22, 2011

It is getting closer to the one year mark and I find myself at a loss for how I should be feeling.  I want to be happy that I had a son, I want to feel blessed that I held him close for a whole week, I want to remember him and how he changed our lives.  But I don't.  I feel empty, like I've forgotten something important.  The whole thing seems almost unreal.

This week we were celebrating my oldest daughters birthday and teasing her that she should be buying me the present because I did all the work.  Then it hit me I will never tease my son, his birthday will always be bitter sweet.  I wonder how to best remember him.  I want my daughters to know that they have a brother in heaven and he will never disappear.

I also want them to know they will never be forgotten or disappear.  Right now there is added stress of my dad being sick, a friend who died and my daughters having lots of questions.  I find myself just thinking and praying a lot.

I was remembering the movie AI, at the end he has one last day with his "mom" and it is just a normal day.  So often people want to do something big, have a list of "we should of"s, but one more normal day would seem so nice right now.   I've been thinking of my week with my son.  It wasn't anything special just a normal week and I am so blessed to have had it.

The world is full of could have beens.  Most are all the ways things could have been better but I choose to think of how I was blessed, the trials I never had to go threw. I got to be with James the whole time, never had to leave his side except for his helicopter ride.  For one week life got to be normal.  The night I spent reading books to the girls while he slept in my arms is a memory to treasure.  I thank God for giving us that time.

Active remembering

This summer I have spent a lot of time actively remembering my son. Not just the sitting quietly crying but happy remembering. And remembering that makes a difference.

Having children changes the way you live and the way you look at life. Having a child die changes the way you live and the way you look at life. Some of those changes are negative. I found out that when I am really upset I throw up. If I don't stop myself I will cry until I physically make myself sick.

Some of those changes are positive. My son mattered so much to me that I want him to matter to other people. This has caused me to be more involved with raising money for the hospital where he died.

This summer actively remembering my son has meant taking a family trip to Disneyland. A place I never really even dreamed of going. It meant taking time to show my daughters how important they are to me. It has meant taking time to be a family, watching movies, playing games, reading books. You would think going thru tragedy would automatically cause you to hold on tighter to those around you, and for some it probably does. But for other, and me, it makes you afraid to hold on. I never want to hurt so much again.

Living afraid is not how I want to live my life so this summer being mom has been my highest priority. I want my daughter to remember how much we love James and how much we love them.

My other active remembering has been at work. I work part time at Dairy Queen. It keeps me busy and helps pay for extra expenses. DQ partners with Children's Miracle Network every summer to raise money for local children hospitals. Every time I sell a balloon or ask someone if they would like to donate I remember my son. I remember how little he was, I remember how hard the Doctors and Nurses worked, I remember how hard I prayed for a miracle. And while I'm remembering I'm able to smile.

Of corse there were days I didn't ask people to donate because I couldn't keep smiling. And days I had the girls watch movies because it was hard to be a mom. But as I remember my son I want to work harder and be better so people can see he matters so much and I still miss him so much.

June 16, 2011

When my older daughter was eight months old she took her first steps, well it was the day before she became nine months but telling people she was "walking" at eight months was always fun. My younger daughter got her first tooth at eight months. I wonder what my son would be doing.

Would he be a mover, always wanting to be in with his sisters and cousins? Would he be content to be waited on and just enjoy getting attention? Would I notice?

My life would be so different if he was here. I work because I don't have a little one that needs me to stay home. The girls leave toys out on the floor but there is no one to get into them. I should eat breakfast and not drink so much coffee but it's only me who suffers.

This week I've been feeling silly, I don't want to do laundry because it makes me think of all the clothes I don't have to wash. I don't want to do dishes because I keep thinking of the dishes I would be washing. I don't want to vacuum because I keep thinking he's not here crawling around picking things up off the carpet. Even though I know these are things I did before I even knew he was coming they seem so unimportant now that he is gone.

April 17, 2011

It's now been over six months since my son died, This week when i thought of him, what I remembered most was praying. At the hospital, after the nurse had come in to let us know what was going on. I laid my head on the table and wept. And I prayed.

My prayer seemed odd to me even at the time and looking back I wonder if others would respond the way I did. I prayed whole heartedly for God's will to be done. But I didn't really want that and I told Him so. I wanted my will, I wanted my son to be ok, it didn't matter to me what God's will was. But all I could ask of God was that His will would be done and that He would help us through. Even looking back I'm not sure if my faith was strong, relying on God, or if it was weak, unable to believe in even asking for a miracle.

April 9, 2011

Six month ago I welcomed my son into the world and he looked so perfect. He was a few weeks early but that was ok, I had been pretty sure he would come early anyways.

As a mother recounting childbirth experiences is like telling old war stories, they are a little gruesome but as a moms we are proud to have gone through them. This delivery was like the others in that it was completely different. The epidural was much stronger on one side to the point my left leg felt completely numb. Somehow my muscles remembered what to do and I pushed him out. And there he was, absolutely beautiful. His sisters came with Grandma and Granddad to see him a few hours later. Life was good.

April 2nd, 2011

I see you laughing

But I know inside that you're crying

Just tell me what happened when things went wrong

We'll try to make sense of it all

Please don't blame yourself

Cause you're not by yourself

I've been right here all along

Don't have to be alone

Because you've always know

Wherever your heart is my home

And all this time

Saying you were fine

And everyone still to blame

Well there you are

You and your broken heart

It's written all over you're face

More lyrics: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/s/seabird/#share

I woke up with this song, well this part of the song going though my head. They are from the song "Don't you know that you're beautiful" by Seabird which I think is about the prodigal son. But lately I guess I have been feeling a little lost and alone. I've been wanting to read Ecclesiastes but I'm scared. It has been my favorite book in the Bible for a long time, all through the ups and downs of highschool and college I would turn to it when I needed encouragement. After all what better way to realize that the problems of this life are really small that to read how meaningless everything, good or bad, in this life is really meaningless unless it focuses on God. And to be reminded that God put us on this earth just to serve Him helped me to keep my motives in check when I made decisions.

But I'm afraid of what I will see now, I'm afraid that the scriptures I use to love will start feeling like a cruel joke. After all what could be more meaningless than my son being brought into this world only to die. I'm afraid eventually when I think of Heaven my first thought won't be of James. I'm afraid eventually instead of comforting God will start teaching and leading again. I look at the life of Job and think, "if I am weak there will be no reason to take anything else from me." I don't want to move, I don't want to keep going, I want to just stay here.

But here doesn't feel familiar anymore, it's like walking in fog and when the fog lifts trying to get your bearings, trying "to make sense of it all."

March 1, 2011

Usually when I write it is because I have so much inside it just has to spill out somewhere. Today is not like that. Today instead I am just sorting out random feelings and odd thoughts that I'm not sure how I really feel about them.

In the past I've always said of myself and other new moms, "Don't stress about your size until it has been a year, your body needs time to readjust." But This time I'm not breast feeding or chasing after a little one as he learns to crawl and walk. Also I don't really want people knowing just by looking at me that there ought to be a little one with me.

In the weeks after my son pasted away I had trouble eating, I wasn't hungry and nothing seemed appetizing. So I dropped back to pre-pregnancy weight rather quickly. But now I still have the stretched out belly and general unfitness from both pregnancy and general unfitness. I don't want to push my body to hard but I want to see results quickly. If it was anyone else I would tell them to take their time, start slowly and for goodness sakes make sure you eat. But I'm still not hungry and I sleep better when I'm so tired I can't think.

It's so much harder to think of my self as a person and keep my goals realistic when part of me is just trying to escape and to change one of the few things I have some control over.

February 18, 2011

Last week was strange. I felt like I was on an emotional roller coaster. It wasn't until half way thru that I realized I was feeling the same way as four months ago. Anxious the fist day just like when I was going thru labor. So happy the next, like the day we brought him home. Followed by happy tired days. Then the day of confusion, nothing seemed to make sense. Then the fear and finally the pain. The strangest thing was the emotions came with out the memories and lasted so long. A memory I can force myself to stop thinking about but I could get myself to stop feeling.

The beginning of the week was so nice, happy, with out worries. That part happened so quickly I had almost forgotten how it felt to bring him home. How much we laughed as my husband finished cleaning off the crib and putting it together. James looked so small in the crib and I liked holding him so much, I let him sleep with me on the couch most of the time.

The end of the week was much harder for me both then and now. When last week ended I felt like I had no control over which songs would make me cry or when I might have to bite my tongue. All I could do was try my hardest not to dwell on what had made me feel this way four months ago. While I would gladly relive to day I brought him home from the hospital a million times I wish I could forget the day we had to bring him back.

Jan. 29, 2011

There are times I expect to be reminded of my loss. Times I know will be hard for me to get thru. And there are times that take me off guard. Today felt melancholy and a little scary, but I didn't understand why. I had a meeting to go to for my scrapbook consulting business, but I go to one every 3 months or so. I didn't realize what was making me anxious about this meeting until I got there. As we sat down and did introductions I trying not to stare across the table at the lady who had brought her baby with her. Then I remembered the previous meeting just a month before James was born and the other pregnant gal there.

At the time I had thought she and I would be able to sympathize with each other about how hard it was to stay on top of even a small business when you had such a big time taker. I had wondered, with our due dates being so close, which of us would deliver first. I had left looking forward to the next meeting and to showing off my little one. But my life was so different than I had expected. My happy expectations only served to remind me of my unhappy reality.

I didn't want to be there, I didn't want to see these people who didn't know my pain, I didn't want anyone to ask, I didn't want no one to remember, I didn't want a reminder of what I am missing.

I try so hard to never think of the what ifs because what if will never be but today was hard when I saw the one if sitting right across from me.

January 1st, 2011

At the start of the new year people always look back at the year gone by. They list the good memories, those they would rather forget, the funny things that happened, and what they will remember most. When the year is full of such pain and heart break the only thing that would be worse than looking back is forgetting. I never want to forget how I felt when I held my son for the first time or for the last. The two memories are so close together that to try and forget one I would have to try and forget both.

The other day I remembered praying when I was just a little girl, nine maybe, that I could see Heaven in my dreams. I remember so vividly asking God, "even if I don't remember in the morning, it must be so wonderful that I would always be happy to have even glanced at it." Strange, now I want to know for just an instance that James is indeed happy and Heaven is in fact as wonderful for him as I had imagined. I wonder if he will know me when I go there too. Will I be "mom"? Jesus' word on the cross to John were for His earthly mom, so a mother must be important, right?