Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Please Tell My Little Boy
Lord I wanted to hold my little one on my lap and tell him all about
you. But since I never had the chance, Will you please hold him on your
lap and tell him all about me? ♥
It is so hard to loose a child and wonder about all those moments you will miss in your life with them. For me one of the biggest has always been teaching my boys about God. Every night my boys do the sign of the cross and say "Father, Son, Holy Spirit" before they go to sleep. It is always adorable because they don't always do the sign right nor do they say the words completely right. I know however that God knows what they mean and these are just the beginning steps for them to take towards choosing Christianity for themselves. There is no greater gift to give them then the tools to choose Christ as their savior.
I don't think many parents realize the impact that they can have on their child's desire to know God and Jesus in an intimate way. For me that was not an easy path. I had gone to church and CCD growing up but truly knew nothing about the bible or why we did the rituals we did. I was raised Catholic and even when I asked questions as a child I was just told we do it because that is what we do. Many family remembers I had prayed or would mention God or Jesus but either due to my personal misconception or the modles I had in terms of faith, I just didn't get it. So many times I watched strangers with this sort of faith that I just could not fathom and a personal relationship with God that I just could not grasp.
It was only when my world fell appart after Richard's father was arrested that I began to seak the truth and find out where my faith truly was. You can say that you believe in God and Jesus but "really" doing that is completley different and it took much soul searching to truly understand that. I watched as those around me were talked about for bad choices they made and it seemed as if they were bad people. Somewhere along the line I thought I had to be perfect and not make mistakes to be loved and that good deeds got you into heaven and I was surely going to hell because I was none of those things. Only in some of the darkest moments of my life did I truly understand that even though others here expect things from you, God doesn't...he takes you as you are...broken. He just asks that you know him in a personal manner and recognize his sacrifice for you...his only son. That is it!
For me that moment did not come in a "wow" moment that you hear of from many people. Mine came as I was working a part time job to make ends meet as a single parent supporting a man in prison! It came through a book I was reading in the silence of a Walmart eye center. That was also when I realized that sometimes God does not move mountains to get your attention, sometimes he just wispers and you have to pay attention for that call to know him. I think of all the years I felt so lost and a looser and how very painful it was to seek acceptance from those around me aimlessly knowing that it was never really possible. Part of me knows that in my desperation that is why I became pregnant at 19 and unmarried. I wanted approval from somewhere and I was going to take it from wherever it came even if it was the wrong kind of love and approval. Looking back now I can say that without hesitations but at the time I was just so lost I could not see it. I regret much of that part of my life but know that I cannot change it, I can only learn from it and pray that others learn from my experience.
I had to learn to love myself and know that even when the world may not understand that there is always one that does...God. You will find if you know me I do not profess to know the bible and never will push my views on a person. My faith is simply stated and if you ask I will elaborate but if not, I don't go into it much with you. Sometimes I believe you can turn people away by being to pushy and I know for me that was a big factor as to why I had a hard time coming into my faith. My one uncle was extremely pushy and sometimes still can be...my mother would always tell me to pray about things and I just hated to hear that. In my oppinion I learned that prayer is not always the answer to things.
I have found that I no longer pray for specific things in life, I just pray for God's will and trust that he knows best even when I don't understand. Faith is all about putting your life in his hands and knowing he loves you enough to do what is best for you. That doesn't mean he is going to do what you want but rather what you need. I used to think that God just never listened or answered my prayers when things just were not going right and had times where I was told I didn't pray specifically enough or some other insane excuse! It took me a long time to just realize that God doesn't work that way.
I don't pray to saints or people who have gone before me unless I feel a need to talk to them directly for a personal reason that has nothing to do with God or the needs in my life. I think I always had an issue with that and that was probably why growing up I was against confession and told a priest that I thought it was created by some nosy priest who had nothing better to do in his life. Now I realize that some people need confession to unburden their souls and be able to survive in this very difficult world. I however believe you can confess to anyone, not just someone ordained and that counts, being ordained doesn't make you God! We are all part of God's church...a church is not a building...another thing that took me a long time to realize. I don't have to go every Sunday to have faith and do what God asks of me.
One of the hardest things for me to accept with George's passing was that he was never baptized while alive. Logically I know that it makes no difference but in my heart it saddenes me greatly to not have done that. I kind of feel it is my job as their mom to do that sort of thing and introduce them to God in that way and to start their journey to heaven in that manner. I remember asking my aunt to be his Godmother and she was very reluctant at first because she felt unworthy to do the job. We had a long conversation where I explained to her that I chose her because her faith was very much like mine and that if anything were to ever happen to me that I knew she would give him insight to the faith I personally have. We both grieved through the use of music and understood God's powers and his use in our lives. We also recognized our imperfections, had our regrets, but knew that dispite that God loved us. I regret with so much of my being not getting him baptized in November when I had wanted to dispite the fact that I know I cannot change that now.
One thing it did teach me was to do what I need to do rather then what others want me to do. Through his loss I have found much personal strenght and finally realized that I need to do what I feel is right rather then to try and make others happy and the continual seeking for their approval. I don't need that anymore and will do what I feel is right and what God wants me to do rather then listen to those around me who do not understnd my heart the way the Lord dose. There has been this closeness to him I have come to know in an even more intimate way because I know if no one else unerstands my pain he does because he lost his son too. He will not try and convice me otherwise or tell me my pain is the same as someone elses because it is not, it is unique to me and I am allowed that and I will never be ashamed for my feelings or allow someone else to make me feel guity for how I truly feel. It is ok to agree to disagree, I don't have to answer to them someday. Right or wrong, God understands.
Hugh and I have both had our battles to get to where we are in our faith. We both hold regrets in our lives and even having to do with our road to get here. It may sound odd but I know I find some solice in the fact that when I was pregnant with George Mother Powell blessed my belly where he was growing. It was kind of me knowing that God knew him then and that was sort of his baptism...there was pleanty of water there:o) It was a personal more private one between, God, myself, and my little boy. George was baptised in the hospital after he was pronounced by some stranger surrounded by nurses who cared for him but didn't know him. Hugh and I wanted it done but really still don't find much solice in that, I find more comfort in the fact that I blessed him that night when I put him to bed and that I gave him to God way before he was born.
It was kind of like then, I was handing him over to God without really knowing only a few months later God would be holding him telling him about us rather then the other way around. The one thing I do pray to God about is that he tells my little boy all about us and how much he was loved and how much he is missed. I always thought it would be the other way around. Hugh and I do plan on asking to have the new baby baptised soon after it is born even if it is no big thing with just us and the ministers.
Mother Powell has already blessed the baby in church just like she did with George so I do find some comfort in that. The day that it happened I sat there in tears without anyone really knowing the significance of that moment for me personally. I cannot tell you what it is like for a mother to hand her child over to God in such a big way especially after one child has already gone to heaven, there is just such a greater meaning behind it that very few will ever truly understnad. I am posting a song that has always been so dear to my heart because of the meaning but now has taken on a whole new meaning and understand. The respect I have for Mary is just so much greater then ever before. Hugh and I actually preformed this song at Easter, I cannot tell you the feeling that came with doing that.
Dear Lord,
Please watch over us and continue to give us the peace that we are blessed with every day knowing our son is in your care. We know you had bigger plans for him and for us and we put our lives in your hands and ask that you use them for your glory at your will. We do not understand and although we may hope to someday have insight we trust that you are doing what is best for us and your greater plan for this world. May your love and work show in all that we do. Please hug and kiss our little boy for us every single day and hold him in your lap from time to time to let him know how much we love him and miss him. Please tell him about us and how much we love you and that because of that we will be with him again in your kingdom but please let him know we still have a job to do and will be there as soon as we can to be with him to hold him again and give him the love we have in our hearts for him for the rest of eternity! Until that day we will continue to praise you and know that Jesus died for our sins and we put our lives in your hands.
Amen
you. But since I never had the chance, Will you please hold him on your
lap and tell him all about me? ♥
It is so hard to loose a child and wonder about all those moments you will miss in your life with them. For me one of the biggest has always been teaching my boys about God. Every night my boys do the sign of the cross and say "Father, Son, Holy Spirit" before they go to sleep. It is always adorable because they don't always do the sign right nor do they say the words completely right. I know however that God knows what they mean and these are just the beginning steps for them to take towards choosing Christianity for themselves. There is no greater gift to give them then the tools to choose Christ as their savior.
I don't think many parents realize the impact that they can have on their child's desire to know God and Jesus in an intimate way. For me that was not an easy path. I had gone to church and CCD growing up but truly knew nothing about the bible or why we did the rituals we did. I was raised Catholic and even when I asked questions as a child I was just told we do it because that is what we do. Many family remembers I had prayed or would mention God or Jesus but either due to my personal misconception or the modles I had in terms of faith, I just didn't get it. So many times I watched strangers with this sort of faith that I just could not fathom and a personal relationship with God that I just could not grasp.
It was only when my world fell appart after Richard's father was arrested that I began to seak the truth and find out where my faith truly was. You can say that you believe in God and Jesus but "really" doing that is completley different and it took much soul searching to truly understand that. I watched as those around me were talked about for bad choices they made and it seemed as if they were bad people. Somewhere along the line I thought I had to be perfect and not make mistakes to be loved and that good deeds got you into heaven and I was surely going to hell because I was none of those things. Only in some of the darkest moments of my life did I truly understand that even though others here expect things from you, God doesn't...he takes you as you are...broken. He just asks that you know him in a personal manner and recognize his sacrifice for you...his only son. That is it!
For me that moment did not come in a "wow" moment that you hear of from many people. Mine came as I was working a part time job to make ends meet as a single parent supporting a man in prison! It came through a book I was reading in the silence of a Walmart eye center. That was also when I realized that sometimes God does not move mountains to get your attention, sometimes he just wispers and you have to pay attention for that call to know him. I think of all the years I felt so lost and a looser and how very painful it was to seek acceptance from those around me aimlessly knowing that it was never really possible. Part of me knows that in my desperation that is why I became pregnant at 19 and unmarried. I wanted approval from somewhere and I was going to take it from wherever it came even if it was the wrong kind of love and approval. Looking back now I can say that without hesitations but at the time I was just so lost I could not see it. I regret much of that part of my life but know that I cannot change it, I can only learn from it and pray that others learn from my experience.
I had to learn to love myself and know that even when the world may not understand that there is always one that does...God. You will find if you know me I do not profess to know the bible and never will push my views on a person. My faith is simply stated and if you ask I will elaborate but if not, I don't go into it much with you. Sometimes I believe you can turn people away by being to pushy and I know for me that was a big factor as to why I had a hard time coming into my faith. My one uncle was extremely pushy and sometimes still can be...my mother would always tell me to pray about things and I just hated to hear that. In my oppinion I learned that prayer is not always the answer to things.
I have found that I no longer pray for specific things in life, I just pray for God's will and trust that he knows best even when I don't understand. Faith is all about putting your life in his hands and knowing he loves you enough to do what is best for you. That doesn't mean he is going to do what you want but rather what you need. I used to think that God just never listened or answered my prayers when things just were not going right and had times where I was told I didn't pray specifically enough or some other insane excuse! It took me a long time to just realize that God doesn't work that way.
I don't pray to saints or people who have gone before me unless I feel a need to talk to them directly for a personal reason that has nothing to do with God or the needs in my life. I think I always had an issue with that and that was probably why growing up I was against confession and told a priest that I thought it was created by some nosy priest who had nothing better to do in his life. Now I realize that some people need confession to unburden their souls and be able to survive in this very difficult world. I however believe you can confess to anyone, not just someone ordained and that counts, being ordained doesn't make you God! We are all part of God's church...a church is not a building...another thing that took me a long time to realize. I don't have to go every Sunday to have faith and do what God asks of me.
One of the hardest things for me to accept with George's passing was that he was never baptized while alive. Logically I know that it makes no difference but in my heart it saddenes me greatly to not have done that. I kind of feel it is my job as their mom to do that sort of thing and introduce them to God in that way and to start their journey to heaven in that manner. I remember asking my aunt to be his Godmother and she was very reluctant at first because she felt unworthy to do the job. We had a long conversation where I explained to her that I chose her because her faith was very much like mine and that if anything were to ever happen to me that I knew she would give him insight to the faith I personally have. We both grieved through the use of music and understood God's powers and his use in our lives. We also recognized our imperfections, had our regrets, but knew that dispite that God loved us. I regret with so much of my being not getting him baptized in November when I had wanted to dispite the fact that I know I cannot change that now.
One thing it did teach me was to do what I need to do rather then what others want me to do. Through his loss I have found much personal strenght and finally realized that I need to do what I feel is right rather then to try and make others happy and the continual seeking for their approval. I don't need that anymore and will do what I feel is right and what God wants me to do rather then listen to those around me who do not understnd my heart the way the Lord dose. There has been this closeness to him I have come to know in an even more intimate way because I know if no one else unerstands my pain he does because he lost his son too. He will not try and convice me otherwise or tell me my pain is the same as someone elses because it is not, it is unique to me and I am allowed that and I will never be ashamed for my feelings or allow someone else to make me feel guity for how I truly feel. It is ok to agree to disagree, I don't have to answer to them someday. Right or wrong, God understands.
Hugh and I have both had our battles to get to where we are in our faith. We both hold regrets in our lives and even having to do with our road to get here. It may sound odd but I know I find some solice in the fact that when I was pregnant with George Mother Powell blessed my belly where he was growing. It was kind of me knowing that God knew him then and that was sort of his baptism...there was pleanty of water there:o) It was a personal more private one between, God, myself, and my little boy. George was baptised in the hospital after he was pronounced by some stranger surrounded by nurses who cared for him but didn't know him. Hugh and I wanted it done but really still don't find much solice in that, I find more comfort in the fact that I blessed him that night when I put him to bed and that I gave him to God way before he was born.
It was kind of like then, I was handing him over to God without really knowing only a few months later God would be holding him telling him about us rather then the other way around. The one thing I do pray to God about is that he tells my little boy all about us and how much he was loved and how much he is missed. I always thought it would be the other way around. Hugh and I do plan on asking to have the new baby baptised soon after it is born even if it is no big thing with just us and the ministers.
Mother Powell has already blessed the baby in church just like she did with George so I do find some comfort in that. The day that it happened I sat there in tears without anyone really knowing the significance of that moment for me personally. I cannot tell you what it is like for a mother to hand her child over to God in such a big way especially after one child has already gone to heaven, there is just such a greater meaning behind it that very few will ever truly understnad. I am posting a song that has always been so dear to my heart because of the meaning but now has taken on a whole new meaning and understand. The respect I have for Mary is just so much greater then ever before. Hugh and I actually preformed this song at Easter, I cannot tell you the feeling that came with doing that.
Dear Lord,
Please watch over us and continue to give us the peace that we are blessed with every day knowing our son is in your care. We know you had bigger plans for him and for us and we put our lives in your hands and ask that you use them for your glory at your will. We do not understand and although we may hope to someday have insight we trust that you are doing what is best for us and your greater plan for this world. May your love and work show in all that we do. Please hug and kiss our little boy for us every single day and hold him in your lap from time to time to let him know how much we love him and miss him. Please tell him about us and how much we love you and that because of that we will be with him again in your kingdom but please let him know we still have a job to do and will be there as soon as we can to be with him to hold him again and give him the love we have in our hearts for him for the rest of eternity! Until that day we will continue to praise you and know that Jesus died for our sins and we put our lives in your hands.
Amen
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
My Breaking Heart
Today has been a very hard day. It is not only a Friday but it is also the 9th of the month. George would have been 10 months old today. Instead of holding him in my arms I am holding only memories in my mind/heart. He should be here crawling around getting into everything...insead I have his ashes on my fireplace and around my neck. In two months we would have been celebrating his first birthday and me being who I am, a planner to the core, would already be working on that. Instead I am left working on something to do in his memory to keep it alive not only for ourselves for for others and to know that his life just had so much more meaning and that there was a point to his death.
So many times I look at his picture and can't believe his is gone and other times it feels as if he was never here. The day that he died I lost part of myself and it is so very hard to keep it all together and keep moving forward. He was the child I never had to try with or learn how to be his mom. We were just so connected that I knew what he needed and never doubted myself where he was concerned. I miss him laying on my chest sucking his thumb just content to be with me and somehow no matter how bad my day was all of it would melt away when I held him.
I love all my boys and have a different connection with them. With George it was as if I had known him my whole life. The other boys I had to grow with and learn about them and how to handle them and the things about them that I just didn't always understand. With George I just didn't have that, we were kindred spirits who's souls had been intertwined forever. I never really thought that was possible but it really was and to finally find it and then loose it in the blink of an eye, is just so devestating. Maybe that is why in so many ways I feel so alone...I lost the one person who truly understood me without any words needing to be spoken. I didn't have to pretend to be someone I wasn't or work for his approval. I know he was only 4.5 months old but there was just such a strong connection there...maybe God gave it to us since he knew he would be taking him...I don't really know or understand it all.
The last few days have been kind of crazy with a lot of things transpiring. It looks like we will be taking a trip to Georgia August 10th to meet with a Mito specialist down there on the 11th. I happened to meet her years ago when she worked with the physician who had done Joshua's biopsy. She happens to now have a virtual practice where she manages the children's care from GA but works with the docs up here. She of course wants to see them once a year and especially the first time around to get a grasp on them as individuals and how the disease affects them. Unfortunately, she does not take insurance and the cost is quite a bit not to mention the trip but in all reality it is priceless to finally be able to be mom and not their doctor. I'm really hoping that this works out, I have a very good feeling about it all.
In many ways I feel this need to have one doctor willing to do this sort of thing before the baby is here. I really can't live what I did with George. There were so many things going on and I kept trying to convince docs who didn't think there was something wrong that there truly was something wrong with him. With me trying to do anything to get a doc to take an interest there were conflicting ideas and in the end there was not one doc overseeing his care although all of them were told what the other was doing. I just didn't know enough and trusted their judgment when it came to telling me what to do and may times I thought I was just being over protective.
Many times I was made to feel, even by other parents who had children with the disease, as if I was just wanting something to be wrong with them or that I didn't have a right to worry since they weren't really that. Even after he died I was made to feel like an outcast among them all being told that I didn't know for sure that he had Mito and that it demeaned their child's fight?! I really thought we were all in it together for the greater good of our children but apparently I was wrong. Since then I have kept my distance from docs, other parents, and even ended relationships because they were just not good for me to be in. I was told on numerous occasions that my kids weren't as sick and didn't need the care that others did, and I respected that but in the same token they do/did deserve as much care and attention...they are still at a higher risk to die...George proved that.
I do worry for the new baby but I am trying to put things in place this time around. Our pediatrician is a good guy but he is good for ear infections and vaccines. He is willing to work with any doc willing to call the shots but he is not all that into being the one to do that, which is hard for me since Ken(the boys old ped) always took the lead and kept up on all the kids care. I know I can't prevent anything from happening but I will do my best to make sure that I put things in place to keep on top of this. I guess now they will have to take me seriously...it only took my son dying to prove I was not crazy and that my kids are affected quite a bit dispite the fact that they look fine. George looked fine the night I put him to bed...it was the last time I saw him alive. Many of his doctos and therapists were just dumbfounded by it. I try to not hold resentment but I find it sad that it took him dying to get them to pay attention...by then it was just to late.
I know he is in a better place, and I know it is selfish of me to want him back but God I want him back. Living with this hole in my heart is just so hard to do. I had already been through so much in my life and felt a great disappointment because of that but got over and through that. Nothing could ever compare to this though. I did happen to find another mom in England who feels very much the same way I do...she had very much the same connection with her son that I had with George. Although it does not take the pain of our breakign hearts away, we somehow find solice in the fact that there is someone who truly understands on so many levels. Life will never be the same again, there will always be what if's and all sorts of other mixed emotions. We will live our lives to the best of our ability as we always have but it will always be with part of us forever missing.
So many times I look at his picture and can't believe his is gone and other times it feels as if he was never here. The day that he died I lost part of myself and it is so very hard to keep it all together and keep moving forward. He was the child I never had to try with or learn how to be his mom. We were just so connected that I knew what he needed and never doubted myself where he was concerned. I miss him laying on my chest sucking his thumb just content to be with me and somehow no matter how bad my day was all of it would melt away when I held him.
I love all my boys and have a different connection with them. With George it was as if I had known him my whole life. The other boys I had to grow with and learn about them and how to handle them and the things about them that I just didn't always understand. With George I just didn't have that, we were kindred spirits who's souls had been intertwined forever. I never really thought that was possible but it really was and to finally find it and then loose it in the blink of an eye, is just so devestating. Maybe that is why in so many ways I feel so alone...I lost the one person who truly understood me without any words needing to be spoken. I didn't have to pretend to be someone I wasn't or work for his approval. I know he was only 4.5 months old but there was just such a strong connection there...maybe God gave it to us since he knew he would be taking him...I don't really know or understand it all.
The last few days have been kind of crazy with a lot of things transpiring. It looks like we will be taking a trip to Georgia August 10th to meet with a Mito specialist down there on the 11th. I happened to meet her years ago when she worked with the physician who had done Joshua's biopsy. She happens to now have a virtual practice where she manages the children's care from GA but works with the docs up here. She of course wants to see them once a year and especially the first time around to get a grasp on them as individuals and how the disease affects them. Unfortunately, she does not take insurance and the cost is quite a bit not to mention the trip but in all reality it is priceless to finally be able to be mom and not their doctor. I'm really hoping that this works out, I have a very good feeling about it all.
In many ways I feel this need to have one doctor willing to do this sort of thing before the baby is here. I really can't live what I did with George. There were so many things going on and I kept trying to convince docs who didn't think there was something wrong that there truly was something wrong with him. With me trying to do anything to get a doc to take an interest there were conflicting ideas and in the end there was not one doc overseeing his care although all of them were told what the other was doing. I just didn't know enough and trusted their judgment when it came to telling me what to do and may times I thought I was just being over protective.
Many times I was made to feel, even by other parents who had children with the disease, as if I was just wanting something to be wrong with them or that I didn't have a right to worry since they weren't really that. Even after he died I was made to feel like an outcast among them all being told that I didn't know for sure that he had Mito and that it demeaned their child's fight?! I really thought we were all in it together for the greater good of our children but apparently I was wrong. Since then I have kept my distance from docs, other parents, and even ended relationships because they were just not good for me to be in. I was told on numerous occasions that my kids weren't as sick and didn't need the care that others did, and I respected that but in the same token they do/did deserve as much care and attention...they are still at a higher risk to die...George proved that.
I do worry for the new baby but I am trying to put things in place this time around. Our pediatrician is a good guy but he is good for ear infections and vaccines. He is willing to work with any doc willing to call the shots but he is not all that into being the one to do that, which is hard for me since Ken(the boys old ped) always took the lead and kept up on all the kids care. I know I can't prevent anything from happening but I will do my best to make sure that I put things in place to keep on top of this. I guess now they will have to take me seriously...it only took my son dying to prove I was not crazy and that my kids are affected quite a bit dispite the fact that they look fine. George looked fine the night I put him to bed...it was the last time I saw him alive. Many of his doctos and therapists were just dumbfounded by it. I try to not hold resentment but I find it sad that it took him dying to get them to pay attention...by then it was just to late.
I know he is in a better place, and I know it is selfish of me to want him back but God I want him back. Living with this hole in my heart is just so hard to do. I had already been through so much in my life and felt a great disappointment because of that but got over and through that. Nothing could ever compare to this though. I did happen to find another mom in England who feels very much the same way I do...she had very much the same connection with her son that I had with George. Although it does not take the pain of our breakign hearts away, we somehow find solice in the fact that there is someone who truly understands on so many levels. Life will never be the same again, there will always be what if's and all sorts of other mixed emotions. We will live our lives to the best of our ability as we always have but it will always be with part of us forever missing.
My New Normal Poem
My "Normal"
Author: Unknown
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.
Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, Valentine's Day, July 4th and Easter.
Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral than a wedding or birthday party...yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.
Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is having the TV on the minute I walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like he is my baby's age. And then thinking of the age he would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and his birthday and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special my baby loved. Thinking how she would love it, but how she is not here to enjoy it.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.
Normal is making sure that others remember her.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.
Normal is taking pills, and trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies being referred to as cadavers, when you know they were once someone's loved one.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child.
Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.
Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yet never having met any of them face to face.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my baby is in heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why healthy babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.
Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have one child or none, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have no children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.
Normal is avoiding McDonald's and Burger King playgrounds because of small, happy children that break
your heart when you see them.
Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours and asking if there even is a God.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".
Author: Unknown
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.
Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, Valentine's Day, July 4th and Easter.
Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral than a wedding or birthday party...yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.
Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is having the TV on the minute I walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like he is my baby's age. And then thinking of the age he would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and his birthday and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special my baby loved. Thinking how she would love it, but how she is not here to enjoy it.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.
Normal is making sure that others remember her.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.
Normal is taking pills, and trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies being referred to as cadavers, when you know they were once someone's loved one.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child.
Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.
Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yet never having met any of them face to face.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my baby is in heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why healthy babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.
Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have one child or none, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have no children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.
Normal is avoiding McDonald's and Burger King playgrounds because of small, happy children that break
your heart when you see them.
Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours and asking if there even is a God.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Heavy Heart
My heart has just been so heavy lately. I don't know why it is that I miss you so much. Every single time I think I finally have it together something happens to just make me realize that this is forever and is unpredictable at best. Trying to explain the pain in my heart is just so very difficult since it is not like a cut or broken bone that will heal with time.
It is so hard for me to know you are going to be a big brother but you will have to do that from heaven and not here. We will have to be the ones to tell your little brother or sister all about you and how great you were and what you mean to us. This is just not the way that I pictured life for us all. Tears stream down my face at least once a day because I just don't know what to do or how to make the pain end. I know it will be the day I am with you again but that just seems so very far away.
There is always something that will just make me think of you and hit me out of no where. Today I was driving home from a stop at Costco after my doctors appt and the song Homesick came on the radio and I cried the whole way home listening to it. Directly after that was over, the song I just posted on here "Better than a Hallelujah" I really thought about the meaning of it and how ironic it was playing when it was. Those are the moments I know that God is with me and will see me through this.
It is so hard for me to know you are going to be a big brother but you will have to do that from heaven and not here. We will have to be the ones to tell your little brother or sister all about you and how great you were and what you mean to us. This is just not the way that I pictured life for us all. Tears stream down my face at least once a day because I just don't know what to do or how to make the pain end. I know it will be the day I am with you again but that just seems so very far away.
There is always something that will just make me think of you and hit me out of no where. Today I was driving home from a stop at Costco after my doctors appt and the song Homesick came on the radio and I cried the whole way home listening to it. Directly after that was over, the song I just posted on here "Better than a Hallelujah" I really thought about the meaning of it and how ironic it was playing when it was. Those are the moments I know that God is with me and will see me through this.
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Me With My Prince Charming In Front of the Castle
