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.