A Special Bond

I am blessed to have a very special woman in my life, a woman who I have mentioned in my blogs every once in a while before, but never really told the story of how truly amazing she is. You see, I am very blessed to have parents who love me, a mom a dad, and 2 step parents as well, who drive me crazy at times but I wouldn’t trade for the world. Then I have my momma, the woman who has loved me as her own child since I entered her life 7 years ago, my son’s grandmother. I have mentioned before that things did not work out between my son’s father and I, we have gone our separate ways and are happy with our lives now. But that doesn’t mean that I lost my momma. She and I are just as close, talk just as much, and love each other the same as we have all along. I always said that she was more than my “mother-in-law” she was my best friend. When I had a problem, or would get into an argument with Bug’s daddy, I wouldn’t go to my family, or call a girlfriend, I would go to her house, sit up with her all night, and vent to her. She was always there to listen, to talk to, and always just supported me. We did everything together. People always thought when we went out that I was her daughter, I can’t count how many times I was told that I look just like her, and I know that I act just like her too. People always think that we are either sisters or mother and daughter, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I was really scared when me and bug’s daddy first ended our relationship that I would lose my momma, that over time we would begin to drift apart and I would slowly lost the woman I loved just as much as my own parents. Looking back on the last 6 months I know that it will never happen. That no matter what happens, no matter where my life goes, or her son’s life goes, that my momma will always love me like her own. I know that my momma misses the Bug so much. My baby was and still is the center of her world. She has so many pictures of him everywhere, and not a day goes by that she doesn’t talk to him. I hate that we have to have this together, that we have to hurt together, but losing the bug, the loss that we shared, made our bond, our friendship even stronger. I thank god that I have my momma, and that I am blessed with a 5^th parent, who loves me just as much as her own children. I love you momma, NO MATTER WHAT!!!!!!!

My momma and the bug

Survived Another Christmas

Christmas was this week and it was fairly easy on me this year. I don’t know why but Christmas Eve was harder for me than Christmas day. I woke up that morning, looked up at the Christmas tree and began to cry. I just laid there for a bit, thinking of my son, thinking of what I should be doing with him, how I should be getting him all excited to open presents, preparing to haul him around from family home to family home all day watching them shower him with love and watching him get excited about opening gifts and playing with everyone. I always go visit him both Christmas Eve and Christmas day, so I called his grandma on his daddy's side and asked him if she wanted to go with me to visit him. We decided to go, and exchange our Christmas presents there with him as well, and also visit her youngest son who is buried at the same cemetery as bug, he was born sleeping 10 years ago. When I got to the cemetery I decided to go up and arrange things for him to make room for his Christmas decorations, I brought a few things in that had been there a while, making room for his festive decorations that we put out for him every year. I sat there and cried a bit more, singing him a Christmas song, and telling him that I could only imagine how beautiful Christmas in heaven was. When his grandma arrived, we gave him all of his Christmas goodies, talked to him for a bit, told him we loved him and merry Christmas. Of course we cried too, how could we not when we miss him so much. I was surprised that his daddy came up there with us as well. I didn’t know that he was joining us but was very glad that he did. He is usually pretty quiet when he visits, but it is still good to have that moment with our son, as a family. We may not be together anymore but it’s nice that we can still be decent and do things together for our son. Even though he is not here, I know it means a lot to him. We went on to visit bug's uncle and also his great grandfather, and then we did our little Christmas gift exchange. I gave his daddy a hug, told him merry Christmas, and that it meant a lot having him there, and I know it meant a lot to our son too. After the cemetery I went on to spend time with my family, visiting my grandparents and everyone, crying on and off at certain Christmas songs on the radio, but doing my best to hide it. I know that my family understands and feels the pain as well, but sometimes it’s just easier to hide it and enjoy the happy times. Christmas morning I had to fight back the tears a few times. Watching my brothers and sisters open their gifts was pretty hard, because I will never experience that with Payton, but I know that he was there in spirit, ripping and tearing the paper, laughing and shouting in excitement with every gift. We may not have seen him or heard him but I felt him there. After that I went to visit a very dear friend of mine, who has been like family to me for a long time. He was like an uncle to the Bug and loves him and misses him so much too. He and his son had got the bug a Christmas present too and we wanted to go give it to him. It was a fire truck that had lights and sounds and was so much fun! His son, who is only 3, was my bug's best friend, and came with us. He sang jingle bells to the bug with me, told him "Merry Christmas, I love you!" and was running around the field in the cemetery while we were visiting. I told his daddy that I could literally just feel Bug running with his best friend, laughing with him, and I knew he was there. With watching him running and playing, and knowing that my angel was there too, I couldn’t cry, visiting him like that actually brought joy to my heart. It was very comforting. I went through the day on Christmas and was actually very relieved at how ok I was. I didn’t have to fight back tears as I did the day before, it was a much easier day then I expected it to be. Maybe it was because I knew my son was with me, maybe it was because he wanted me to have a merry Christmas, I don’t know, but I felt at peace. I know that the holidays will always be hard, something will always be missing. I will always have to visit that cemetery and shed a tear, but I know that in heaven Christmas is beautiful, there is snow that is so beautiful, so pure, and it just glistens with beauty beyond words on the golden streets. I know that the Christmas lights and trees here have nothing on the decorations in heaven. I know that every year, my bug, is going to celebrate the most amazingly spectacular Christmas in heaven, and until I get there to celebrate with him, I am going to do my best to enjoy the holiday down here. I’m going to try and celebrate along with him since I have to celebrate away from him. It's all I can do in the meantime.

remembering the children

20 precious angels, whose little lives had just begun, who went to school that morning excited to learn something new, sitting in a room, filled with artwork that their little hands had worked so hard on, walls filled with ABC's and 123's. 20 little precious babies who were trying their hardest to make the nice list for Santa. Who were so excited to sit on Santa’s lap, give them their lists. 20 homes that on Christmas morning, will not be filled with the joyous yells of children as they open their gifts, but instead with the sounds of tears and screams as parents because Santa cant give them what they really want, their children back. 20 children who will never get to experience life, who will never get to learn to drive, graduate high school, attend prom, have their own children, 20 wedding days that will never come. These sweet children had just begun their lives and they are already over.

6 brave souls who dedicated their lives to educating children, who loved each of their children like their own. Who looked forward to seeing their smiles every day. 6 loving souls who went out with acts of bravery, to try and spare the lives of their small students. It takes a loving caring soul to be a teacher especially an elementary school teacher, someone with patience, a kind heart, a gentle touch, and a lot of love.

 And finally the survivors, the children who were in the school that day as well and were so terrified. The teachers who jumped into action, protecting their students, telling them they were loved, trying to keep them calm and praying for safety. the first responders who had to rush in and see the horrific scene that will be burned into their heads forever, the parents who waited to see if their children were ok, praying to god that they were not harmed. The entire town, the entire nation, everyone affected by this tragedy.

Schools, especially elementary schools, are supposed to be a safe place. A place where their parents felt the only danger they could face was being called a doody head or being told they had cooties! What kind of world do we live in that school is not even safe for small children! I keep trying to make sense of it, and I just can’t. Never before has a tragedy like this hit me so hard. I was so young when 9/11 hit so when I saw it on TV over and over I remember being sad and hurt and as I grew up more and more I would cry when I saw footage of it because I had begun to understand what had happened. when I hear of news like this, the shooting in Colorado, school shootings, mall shootings, other acts of senseless evil, I pray for those affected, I feel sadness for them, and I thank god for what I have, but never have I been hit so hard by something like this.

Maybe it’s because I feel a connection to these parents because I too have lost a child suddenly and tragically. They sent their children to school that morning expecting to pick them up at the end of the day, safe and sound. I put my son to bed the night before he died, expecting to wake up to his big smiles the next morning, and like that family, I did not expect something to go so terribly wrong during something that was so routine. I just can’t stop crying as I watch the TV, and I want nothing more than to just go to the town of Newtown and hug every parent and child.

This tragedy has already begun to spark discussion and debate on a political level. Things like Gun control, school security, and other topics. I think that these topics do need to be discussed yes however is now the time and place? give these families respect, don’t turn their tragedy into a national debate, let them have their grief before everyone starts fighting over who could have stopped this and what should have been done to prevent it, what will be done to prevent it in the future and who is to blame for not doing something sooner. I think that everyone should back off those topics, not worry about the politics of this, and worry about uniting to honor and support the families of the lost. There is plenty of time for political discussion and debates after these parents have at least had the chance to lay their children to rest. It also doesn’t help that much of the media is making this a circus, interviewing the poor children, as if they haven’t been through enough, let’s exploit them and steal even more of their innocence. I feel like a lot of the media is not handling this with any compassion towards the victims and survivors of this tragedy. It’s really sad.

Then there is the killer, the man who we still don’t know much about. What is known is that he was clearly not well, he killed his mother, and then went on to senselessly kill 26 innocent people. The media keeps ringing up the fact that the shooter is believed to have a form of autism. I am shocked that they keep saying this like it’s an excuse or makes what he did ok in a way. "he didn’t know what he was doing, he was autistic" I understand that mental illness is a very complicated thing, I have seen firsthand a child giving you hugs and love on minute and then the next kicking and screaming, saying things like they want to kill everyone, just because you tell them it is bedtime. It is a very complicated illness that has a traumatic effect on the friends and family of the individual. I don’t think that it should be as much expressed by the media, I think that much like the political topics, this can be discussed. I don’t think that anyone should sympathize for this man until we know more about who he is, we know his name, that he was only 20, but other than that we don’t know motive, we don’t know lifestyle, it hasn’t even been confirmed, as far as I know, that he in fact was autistic or diagnosed as mentally ill. Think if it were your child, would you want someone to feel compassion for the man who killed your child just because he was sick? Would you want the act that stole your child to be justified like that? Again there is a time and place for everything.

As for me, I know that I will never forget these children. I know that I will never forget Dec 14, 2012. I know that I will keep them in my heart. I even said a prayer to my bug and asked him to give them a hug from me. I am just asking that everyone do the same, stop thinking about the politics, the excuses, and the media circus. Think of the children, remember them, and find a way to honor them this Christmas. Think of the families who are too hurt to celebrate this holiday. Think of those lost, remember the children.

I didnt know getting stuck in traffic could be so terrible!

So I have a complaint that I just wanted to share, i need to vent! Nothing makes me more aggrivated then when I see people post FML over stupid things!!! "stuck in traffic, FML" or "Broke a nail, FML" or my absolute favorite "it's monday, FML" SERIOUSLY PEOPLE!!!!!!! My son died, my beautiful 10 week old perfect baby went to sleep and never woke up, i didnt get to say goodbye, i dont get him back, i dont get to watch my son grow, i dont get to be the parent i should be!!! And ya know what, even i dont say FML, ya know why? because as much as my life has had its crappy moments, as bad as it is, I still have things to be grateful for!!!! I still have blessings, I choose to look at the positive things, the happy things, yes my son died and it was pure living hell, but i had amazing friends and family behind my back the entire time. As bad as it is, it could be worse, i could have had to do it all alone without an ounce of support! ya know what, FML because you broke a nail, ill tell ya what, ill trade places, ill take your broken nail over my angel child ANYDAY!!!!! sorry if this sounds a little mean, but just think about it, FML is just a little extreme people, if your life is f***ed because of something so stupid as losing your phone or running late to work, then i really really hope that you never have to face a real problem, like losing your child!

Smile :)

Everyone who knows me knows one thing about me, I handle everything life throws at me with a smile. Sometimes I use my smile to lighten my pain, I tell a joke, or make a funny comment to make myself and those around me smile and lighten my pain. Sometimes I use it as a mask, to hide the tears that I really want to just unleash, it may be a fake smile, but hey, it counts rite? Everyone has always complimented me on my ability to keep a smile on my face, It's just how I am. But more and more recently I have a reason to smile.

You see my life has had a lot of twists and turns this past year, and a lot has changed. there is one change that I haven't really posted about on my blog. You see back in June my son's father and I parted ways. Ending a 7 year relationship that had been to hell and back numerous times, a relationship that I thought could withstand any storm, crumbled. There were a lot of factors that led to the separation  I won't go into them really, but losing a child takes a toll on a relationship. We processed our grief in really different ways, and we never really grieved together as a couple. This was piled on top of a relationship that had it's issues to say the least, and it just was not a formula for success.

After the split I moved in with my mom, turned the basement into a nice little apartment for me and the dogs, and did my best to make it the bug's space as well. It was hard to leave behind the only home that he ever knew, the place where his life began, and the place where his life ended as well, the room where I rocked him to sleep, gave him his first bath, there was a lot of memories in the house, a lot of attachment to the memories within those walls. I did something that I didn't want to do, I packed up his nursery, went through all of his things, separated some of his things for his father, and made sure that what was being packed, was packed with care and love, to preserve the specialness of my son's only belongings.

But now to the thing that has brought a smile to my face much more frequently for 3 months now. I have met someone, An amazing man, who loves me, who understands me, who makes me feel like i am on top of the world. I never thought that I would find a man who accepted my loss, who accepted my son, who tried to understand and support me through my grief. But I did, He is amazing, he has held me when I cried, answered the phone at 3am to comfort me after a nightmare about my bug. He tells me that it's ok to cry, that it's ok to have bad days. And when I am having a bad day, or a moment, he will say the perfect thing, or do something funny, to make it better, to put a smile back on my face. This man is so good to me, he is everything i have ever dreamed of and more. The night i met this amazing guy, i literally just felt the presence of my bug, i just felt him saying "mommy, you have cried enough, here is something to smile" This man is everything to me, I just cant believe that I am so lucky to have this amazing man in my life. A man who makes me laugh until i cry, tickels me until i cant take it any more, holds me in his arms just rite, that i feel like they were made just for me. He is such a blessing to me, i could go on for hours talking about him and why I love him, and even then I could find more reasons that i love him.

It feels good to smile again, to be happy again. I know that i will always have a empty space in my heart, something will always be missing, but rite now, with this amazing guy, i am the happiest that i have been since i had my son in my arms. I am smiling again, I can be happy again, I have a light back in my life, and im loving every smile that he puts on my face :)

Why?

I wish I knew why, why do babies have to die? Why does a life so new and fresh have to end so soon? with so much lost, so much left to do. Not just my son,  I mean all infants nad children. Why do some parents lose their chidlren before they even take their first breath? everyone keeps telling me that there is a reason for everything, but what is that reason. I have faith in the lord, I have faith that he doesnt take children, like my bug, to be spiteful, or to cause pain, or to hurt those left behind. Those things happen of course, the death of a loved one at any age leaves behind heartache and tears, but I just wish that I knew the exact reason God chose my son. I often wonder if when my judgement day comes, when I meet the lord face to face, if I ask him this question, if I will finally get an answer. I wonder if even when my time on earth is over if I will have the explanation that my heart longs for. My son was so precious to me and I miss him so much, and I am not alone in this heartache, i have crossed paths with so many other women who have experienced the loss of a child, some who had to say goodbye before saying hello, some who had to sit by and pray for a miracle to heal their sick child, some like me who were blindsided by this grief, I just wish i knew the reason for it all, I just wish I knew God's logic, and why he chooses the children he does. I know that he has a reason, I know that he has a purpose, and that these children have a purpose, I just wish it wasnt such a mystery to those of us left behind.

Inspiration

I dont want to sound like I'm full of myself in any way at all, but it really feels good, It is a major self-esteem boost, to hear "your an inspiration" as much as I do. I don't share my stories of my grief to be an inspiration, I share them because it's who I am, I'm a talker, I'm a sharer, it's just who I am. I use my FB page and my blog to tell my story because I want to show all the people who have been praying for me just how far the prayers and virtual hugs have carried me. I couldn't do this without the people who have stood behind me, said a prayer for me or for my baby, who have thought of us, told our story, and who have made me this strong. I am strong, I am brave, but it's not because I want to be, it's because I have to be. I saw a quote one time that said "you were given this life because you were strong enough to live it" I believe that, It's not that bad things happen to good people, it's bad things happen to strong people, because they are the ones who can handle it. I guess I'm just a glass half full kind of person, I would rather take this life I was given, and turn it around and make the best of it. Laying in bed crying all the time, which is what i feel like doing some days, is not going to get me anywhere. It won't bring my Bug back or make this any easier for me. But knowing that I am inspiring people, knowing that I am bringing light to the cause of my son's death, and saving lives, that is doing something, and knowing that I am making a difference, that my Bug is making a difference, that is what keeps me going. I am in inspiration, I inspire people to handle little problems in life with strength and prayer the way I have handled this big hurdle in life with strength and prayer, is what inspires me to keep doing it. It's a vicious cycle I know, but I want to keep it going :)

Yesterday I had the pleasure of speaking at a local high school, actually the high school that I attended for 4 long years ;) I spoke to the students of their child development classes about Safe Sleep, the importance of it, and the things that can be done to help prevent SIDS and SUID. We talked about things like the dangers of bumper pads, the iportance of breastfeeding, other safe sleep basics, do's and dont's, and after I was done with my presentation I asked if the students knew any of the information I had given them. They all said no, they were so surprised, and shocked at how many dangers there are for infants when sleeping. I was surprised how many students actually asked me what my motivation was for starting educating the way I do, and how long I waited to start my mission of educating and telling Bug's story. I have been asked these questions often before and I give the same answer, I began as soon as I was emotionally able to, months after Bug's passing, and I do it because knowing I am making a difference inspires me to continue. Seeing the look in the eyes of those students, seeing that I actually had their attention, that it wasnt just another day in class, another lesson they wouldnt use, knowing that they had clung to my message, that is why I keep going. I touched those children, they will tell people they know with babies, and they will hold onto Bug's story. That is why I keep going, that is what keeps me strong, that is my inspiration to be an inspiration.

All the messages I get from people who I havent heard from in years, or even the complete strangers, who send me random messages telling me that my story and my strength has made their lives different in some way, that is what inspires me. Knowing that there are people out there everynight, some who i have never even met, saying a prayer for Bug, knowing that there are babies out there sleeping safely, because of Bug, that is my inspiration. Knowing I have made the grief better for parents by inspiring them, that is my inspiration. I may inspire people, but its the people who I inspire that inspire me. I keep going because of you guys. I know that God has held me really tight since my loss, I know that I have been amazingly blessed since my son passed, blessed by love, support, strength, prayers, I still hurt, I wasnt blessed with the return of my son, or a way to undo my heartache, but I am amazingly blessed none the less. I am truly blessed by you all, please keep inspiring me with the stories of how I have inspired you, so I can keep inspiring you to inspire me :) Like I said, its a vicious cycle but I don't want it to end :)

Washing Away

Today I did something that I didnt think I would ever do, I washed my Bug'sblankie, the one that I have slept with almost every night since he passed. I havent washed it since beforehe passed because it still had spit-up on it and I didnt want to wash that away. It still smelled like him for the longest time, I would close my eyes, cuddle it by my face, and just feel and smell him in it. It was dirty and dingy and didnt smell like my bug anymore, it started to smell like me and my dogs, and it just wasnt the same so I knew what it was time to do, give my blankie a bath.

I made the decision last night, and cried for a good while thinking about it, knowing that the time had come. I knew that I would have to do it eventually, I knew that if I wanted it to last forever, which I do, that I would have to wash it. I was just sad that it was finally here. This has been more than just any blanket to me. Like a child and it's blankie, this blanket has brouht me so much comfort over the last year, I have spent so much time crying into this blankie, it was like my hankie too. At first, if I woke up in the middle of the night, I would go into a panic if I couldnt find it in my bed, like it was gone. I knew that it was always there, that it didnt go anywhere, but if it wasnt in my arms, or on my pillow, I would panic because it wasn't close to me. That blankie is so much more, it symbolizes my son, and i cant let it go. It's my most prized posession of his. I have other blankies that I cuddle with, and have a "back-up" that I use on occasion as well, but its not my special blankie. I remember the days after my son passed just wrapping myself in it, like I was wrapping myself in my son's arms somehow, just wrapping myself in his memory, it was so comforting to me. I have so many of my son's items that have a special meaning, all of his things do, and always will, but none more than that blankie. I cant imagine ever going without it for more than a few nights.

This blankie is so special because it was made just for my bug. At my baby shower, we played a game where we passed around a basket filled with tiny cloth diapers that were folded and pinned like a real cloth diaper. Everyone opened their "diaper" and the one that had a "surprise" in it (a little smudge of brown eyeshadow) was the winning diaper. Bug's great aunt was the winner. Bug's godmother (another great aunt of his) was at the babyshower, and so was her mother-in-law, who was very crafty. She had made 2 quilts already for my bug, which were given to me at the shower. She approached me and asked if we could collect the cloth squares that were the "diapers" and if she could sue them to make another quilt. I was exstatic, of course I told her! She took them home and I anxiously awaited her masterpiece. The day Bug was born, his godmother came to the hospital to see him, and she brought the blankie for us. The first time I saw my bug,all bundled up, in the recovery room, he was wrapped in that blanket. That blanket was laid across his bassinette and used non-stop the first few days we were in the hospital, many of Bug's loved ones held him for the first time with that blanket. It was filled with all the love of those who came to my baby shower, and even more love from those who came to visit him, even after he came home. It was my favorite blanket to use for him, I used it most nights, to cover him when I was rocking him to sleep, or when I was nursing him. That was his blankie, his special, made just for him, one of a kind, filled with love, blankie.

When I made the decision to wash blankie, I called my boyfriend, he is always a great source of support, especially when it comes to the Bug. He talked me through it, and reminded me that I wasn't washing away my Bug, because that was impossible, I could never wash him away. It was encouraging, but I decided to have just one more night with it the way it was. I Cried into my blankie one last night, the way it was, knowing what today would bring. This morning I did all my laundry, trying to prolong the inevitable, and finally decided to wash it alone, by itself, to make sure it didn't get torn up. I said a prayer, asked Bug to keep it safe in the wash, and pressed the buttons. I used little detergent, and some stain remover, because I didn't want it to smell like anything, I thought that maybe I could preserve what little smell was left with of him, or make it easier to at least pretend that it still had his smell. I sat there for half an hour watching as my blankie went round and round, and realized just how dirty it was. I was relieved that it was geting clean, because I realized that it was kind of gross how dirty it was, but that doesnt matter, it was my gross blankie and I loved it. I realized that I was washing away a year's worth of tears, washing away the heartache that I have had this first year, in a way it was symbolic, of closing the chapter of the dreaded first year of grief, and beginning my journey on without my son. I am washing away the tears becasue they were in a way weighing down my blankie. I know I will still cry into my blankie, I know I will still find comfort in it, I know that it is still special, and comforting, and still Bug's blankie. That will never change, no matter how much it gets washed.

Today I took a big step in what I did, to many it may sound silly, and ridiculious that washing a blanket that was so dirty is such a big deal. When all I have left is these little things, when all I have left physical of my son is his clothing and blankets that smell like him, or his footprints, or his hair, these are the things that I cherish the most. When you don't have much to hang on to anymore, you hang on so tight to what you can. It may sound like just another blanket, or another load of laundry, but it's so much more to a bereaved mother. Today I took a big step, I tested my strength, and I did ok. I washed my blankie, and I'm ok.

One year later...

One of the last pictures taken of my bug, a few days before he passed, at the local fair, he was amazed by all the lights anbd sounds from the carnival rides and games, his eyes were so bright all night :)

 

One year has passed, one full year, 366 days (it was a leap year) since I last held my baby, since I kiss him, since I held him in my arms and rocked him to sleep his last night, I cherish that quality time I had with him, I thank god he wouldn’t fall asleep because rocking him that night, singing him that last lullaby, holding him in his room, im glad that is how I spent my last night with him. I cherish that night so dearly. But where am I now, I look back at the journey I have taken this last year and I do have to say I am quite proud of my bug for making me so strong. I have been told by many this past year that I am an inspiration, that my bravery and love for my son inspires them to be strong when much smaller obstacles come their way. I have thought so much about it and have said it before, I cant take credit for being amazing, or strong, or anyone’s inspiration. I give all the credit to my bug. He is the one who makes me strong, that makes me brave, that inspires me to go on and carry on in his name, he does it all, not me. He deserves every bit of credit. I mean im one proud mama, my son’s life was very sadly, tragically short, too short for me, 10 weeks that’s all he got on this planet, and look what my son accomplished in that 10 weeks, it may not have seemed like a lot when he was here, but he has touched so many hearts and changed so many lives, and saved lives too! Most adults live their entire lives not accomplishing what my baby did in 10 weeks. I first noticed it at his services, the amount of people in the funeral home, I mean you could barely move, there was not a seat open, and at his funeral there were people crammed in lined up in the back of the chapel, my baby had a motorcycle escort and a funeral procession that went on for miles, literally MILES! All those people had love for my bug! I saw it in the hundreds of Facebook posts made about me and my son, all the prayers and love and virtual hugs that were sent my way for my bug, complete strangers literally all over the world thinking of my son.  The fact that in 10 short weeks he made such a difference in this world, its amazing and truly shows me that he is the inspiration not me. I look at all the people I have met in this year, all the paths I have crossed, all the people that the bug has brought into my lives, and all the lives he has led me into. Its truly amazing. i thank god for my baby every day, I thank god for giving me the most amazing blessing, for seeing me fit enough to hold that beyond beautiful, literally perfect child in my arms for 10 short weeks and in my heart for the rest of my life until he is in my arms once more. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a blessing but im so glad I did it. I posted something on my facebook earlier today that said “you were given this life because you are strong enough to handle it” it’s true, I know so many other people who have been through a similar experience to min and have either shut down, or turned to drugs or alcohol, or severe depression, and with this much pain and heartache believe me its very understandable to do those things. But I chose not to, the way I have seen it is my son is watching my every move every minute of every day, and im not perfect by any means im sure that I have let him down a few times this past year, but im sure that he is very happy he doesn’t have to worry about me being sad, laying in bed crying all day every day which is of course what I want to do. But what would that show him? That I loved him, that I miss him, I have chosen to show my son those thing in other ways,  by carrying on his legacy, by being strong for him, by saving lives in his name, by education people on safe sleep, by, and by talking about him constantly, and by making every day I live about him. I am still shattered, I still cry, I still have moments of pain, and weakness, moments where I just lay there stare at his picture and beg god for him back, I always will, no matter how much my woulds heal the scars remain and it will never fully go away. I have to live with this pain forever, I have to learn how to live with it. But I will because my bug makes me strong enough to do it. I have come a long way over the past year, it has been a roller coaster full of ups downs, twists, turns, bumps and shakes, and its not over yet, but I have made it, with my head held high, because I want my son to be proud of me. And ya know what, I really feel like he is <3

hapy birthday sweet bug

Happy Birthday Precious Bug, It is so hard to believe that it has been 1 year since the most amazing day of my life, it seems like just a moment in time has passed since the day my sweet bug was born, in honor of this amazing day i decided that i would tell the story of the day my bug was born, July 4, 2011.

The day before that special day, i was sitting outside with my 2 dear friends and neighbors, by a fire, watching all the fireworks going off around us. they were enjoying an icy cold beer, i was enjoying an icy cold water of course, and they were asking me, are you having any contractions or anything. I told them i was having some braxton hicks, i could feel my belly getting tight but i didnt feel any pain or even feel the contraction so i knew they were nothing. i went home at around midnight and went up to bed, thinking to myself this kid is never comming out!

at about 3:00 am i awoke to what had become my normal routine, get up, go potty, and i would usually take a warm shower to relax away the braxton hicks that had woken me up to begin with. as i was going potty i had a really strong contraction, and thought sheesh that was a good one! i went to take a shower and while i was sitting in the shower i had another strong one, uh-oh i thought that was a good one too, and there is no way those were even 5 minutes apart. then before i could finish my thought, another one! they were so close together and lasted so long that i was unable to even stand up, there i was sitting in the shower, in full blown labor. i started banging my fist against the shower wall to wake up paytons daddy and tell him, this is it! baby time! finally he heard me, came in to help me get up and get dressed, called everyone and let them know, this was definitely it!

We then left off to the hospital, paytons daddy decided that it was safest to do the speed limit, i had to remind hi that it was 4 am and there was noone on the hightway and unless he wanted to deliver our son himself that he better step on it! i screamed the entire way there and it felt like it took an hour to get there, but finally we arrived. when we got up to a room they checked me and told me that i was dialated to 3, and definitely in labor. the nurse ran to grab an iv kit and get me hooked up, i asked to go potty again before the iv so she had to check me again. when i was in the bathroom i heard her tell paytons daddy that i was already at a 5, i had jumped from 3 to 5 in less than 10 minutes! this baby was comming!!!

things went good and moved alot great for the rest of the day, the waiting room filled quickly with what seemed like 100 people waiting to meet the beautiful child we had anxiously awaited. i finally got to 9 and kinda stalled out. They broke my water at around 10:00 am and gave me a little pitocin to get me to that final 10, that was when the trouble started.

paytons heart rate dropped down a bit, this had happened before during dr's appt check ups and other hospital visits for false alarms, they turned me on my side, threw me on oxygen and watched closely. Another deceleration, flip me to my other side, more oxygen. nothing was working. they put an internal monitor on payton to see if maybe he was just hiding from the monitor and to get a better heart rate reading. another deceleration, and another one. i was getting a little nervous. the nurse checked me again and i was 10, i asked her, if payton wasnt handling the contractions would he handle pushing? she replied i dont know lets try. she told me to push, so i did, another deceleration.

everything combined with the fact that bug had passed mech (his first poop) in the womb, i knew it was not looking good. the nurse ran into the hall and we heard her yell c-section. i started crying because i knew. she came back in, kicked everyone out of the room handed his daddy scrubs and started prepping me. i was crying and terrified. she kept saying its ok we just gotta get him out. i told my dr, i trust you im just really scared.

next thing i knew i was laying on an operating table looking up and waiting to hear the cry that i had waited my entire life to hear. finally at 11:52 i heard a squeak, the dr told me to look up and meet my baby. there he was, big eyes, a head of hair, and covered in goo. he was perfect. 8lb. 5oz, 20 in long, boy was he a big one! i was so glad he was finally here, he was perfectly fine, heart rate was good, breathing good, no mech was inhaled, thank god he was truly amazing.

it was the best day of my life. i spent the rest of my day just enjoying my son, the visitors came and went it was like a never ending cycle to meet him, and that night we finished off by watching the fireworks from our window. we just sat there with him singing him happy birthday and telling him the fireworks were all for him. it was the most amazing day of my life.

one year later where am i? i am sitting here, crying, singing happy birthday to a stone, watching 50 red white and blue balloons go up to heaven. i miss my son, i miss watching him blow out the candle, i miss watching him grow and i miss everything i should have done this past year. i love you sweet bug, happy birthday, and remember those fireworks, those are still for you.

Pushing Forward For My Bug

At first when I lost my son I was scared to tell people his cause of death. I just wanted to say that it was SIDS. i was scared that people would judge me, or call me a bad mom. I realized within the days following my son’s death that that wouldn’t do me any good, do his memory any good, and it wouldn’t do any good to the children in the world whose parents don’t know the dangers of unsafe sleep. I decided to tell people the truth, hoping that they would be affected by it, that they would learn from it, and share it with others, and they would change their unsafe practices for my bug. It has since been my goal to spread the word about the importance of safe sleep practices, hoping that each child saved would forever carry a little piece of my bug in their heart forever, weather they know that his story saved their life or not. I have searched high and low and done a lot of research about what to do and what not to do to keep your child safe. I have found a lot of groups that have pulled me through this, showing me that I am not alone, that my child is not the only child lost this way, and in knowing that I am not the only one who is going forward in honor of their child. I have met so many moms who have been where I am, wishing they had done something different, wishing they were more educated, wishing they could change the past. Finding these groups has been an amazing form of support. I also was connected with an organization in my local area who works with parents like me who have lost their child suddenly. They do such wonderful things, like educating new parents and caregivers, and even donating cribs to struggling families who would otherwise bed-share or put their child in an unsafe environment to sleep. They do so many amazing things and we are even working on plans to organize an event in honor of my bug. I have decided to do a motorcycle run in his honor, and raise money to help educate parents on safe sleep practices, the dangers of unsafe sleep, and the facts that this does happen. My son is the proof of that, he is gone because of it, because i had him in my bed to feed him, he is gone forever. And not just the risks of bed-sharing, but the risks of cuddling up with you baby on your chest on a couch, bed or recliner, the risks of having teddy bears and crib bumpers, and the dangers of blankets with your baby. There is so much that I thought I knew, and I am realizing so much that I was wrong. And now I am making it my life-long goal to tell every parent I can about the risks that I was unaware of, the things that I didn’t know, the things that cost me my baby. Last week I was given the opportunity to speak at my old high school about safe seep practices and how they can save lives. It was an amazing opportunity to be able to reach parents and caregivers so early, before they even become parents and caregivers. A lot of the kids were surprised at how much they didn’t know, and how wrong they were about a lot of things. A lot of them had some really good questions, and were very touched by my message. I visited one of my old teachers when I was there, a teacher who didn’t  even teach any of the classes I spoke too. (she is a science teacher and I spoke to the child development and advanced child development classes) She informed me that the kids in her class were talking about me and my message and my sweet bug too, a few days after my visit. That was such an amazing feeling, knowing that I touched them so much that their conversation topic turned to my story a few days later, amidst all the drama that comes along with high school, they weren’t thinking about who was kissing who under the bleachers, they were thinking about me, and my bug, and how they can save the life of a child. It was such an amazing feeling knowing that I made a difference, just a step in my journey to save lives for my bug.

I Am Still A Mother

Mother’s day was one of the hardest days of my journey yet. I woke up that day and realized that I didn’t have anyone to give me a big wet drooly mother’s day kiss. It is my first Mother’s day and I didn’t even want to move. I decided to do what I could to honor and love to the women in my life who have been strong, loving, and caring to me, and who have played a motherly role in my life.I also wanted to remind the world that I am still a mother, even though my son is no longer in my arms. I wore a beautiful corsage all day (from my mom) with my sons picture hanging from an angel pin on it. That way everyone knew that though I did not have a child in my arms, I have one in my heart. I decided to go visit my bug with my mom, I wanted to just sit there all day and spend my first mother’s day with my son, like any mother should. Well my mom picked me up and we headed out to the cemetery. When we pulled up to the mausoleum where he is I noticed that there was something up by his spot on the wall. I just assumed that it was for someone who is around him, maybe above him on the wall. As I walked closer I saw this beautiful plant stand with a plant in it, a balloon that said happy mother’s day, and a card. How sweet, even after death someone must really love their mommy, I thought to myself. As I got closer I realized I was right. Death was not enough to break a bond between a mother and child, me and my son. The card on the plant said to my mommy. I broke into tears, looked over at my mom and she was in tears too. The bug helped her find the perfect gift, the perfect wind chime, the perfect card and even the perfect balloon for me. She went to the cemetery and got it all set up for me, from him, so that I could have a mother’s day gift from my bug too. We spent some time there, watching all the people visit their mothers on Mother’s Day, just sitting with my bug and my mom, wishing that he was here still. After a bit we went home for a delicious breakfast courtesy of my step-dad, and I headed out for all my stops. I visited with my mother in-law, my grandmother, and then I went to visit my step-mom. When I got to my dad’s house I was surprised to get handed a little bag. I wasn’t expecting anything at all. I opened it to find a beautiful charm bracelet, with 5 charms that all had a special meaning. A blue bead with bugs on it, of course because my baby was my bug, another a bead with blue stones and an angel hanging down of course because my baby is an angel, the next a mother with her arms around her child reminding the world that I am a mother too, a ruby bead for my bug’s birthstone, and finally a sweet little paw-print bead for my 2 furry babies too. It was so special, I lost it again. My step-mom got a similar bracelet with similar charms, each with a special meaning. After I cried for a few minutes I thanked my dad and step-mom and I realized something. I am an amazing mom because I have amazing parents. My mom and my dad and my step-parents, even my grandparents and mother-in-law too, have all been such an amazing influence on me, they have taught me so much love, strength, and stood beside me through this, as hard as it is for me to lose my son, it is just as hard on them, if not harder. They not only lost a grandchild that sad day, but they also have to suffer through wishing they could take away all my pain. It made me feel so loved, so blessed to have an amazing family, an amazing support system, just to be surrounded by so many people who love me so much. I am still a mother, I am an angel mother, and someday when the timing is right, I will be an earth mommy again too.

It Should Be Me

One of the hardest parts of being an angel mom is looking at other parents, especially ones with children the same age as yours, and saying “it should be me”. This has been an especially difficult thing for me lately as my son would be hitting so many monumental firsts, I have a very dear friend that has a child a few days older than Bug, he started walking a few weeks ago and I cried thinking, wow, my bug would  be walking too, he would be at least pulling himself up  on furniture, walking with a push-toy, things like that. I think of how I missed that first roll-over, that first crawl, that first tooth, the first taste of solid foods, all the firsts I saw my friends experience with their children so close in age to him, it should be me. I should have those moments, I should be smiling at my baby with sheer joy at how amazing he is and how fast he is growing. Instead im not, im looking at these children with tears in my eyes wishing it was my son making these milestones. This has been so hard lately because I have so many friends and family who also have children experiencing their first birthday within days even weeks of his. Seeing all these moms who I shared my pregnancy with planning their child’s first birthday parties, thinking bug would have a yankee-doodle party for his birthday, I even had his first birthday pics planned out, him in a yankee doodle hat, wearing one of those cute blue-jean diapers, or blue jean bloomers, waving a flag, nothing on but the diaper. The red white and blue decorations and invitations that I would be setting up, and the look of awe on his face when he saw his first birthday fireworks. Instead I am sitting back, trying to be happy for my fellow moms, trying not to be jealous of their lives, but I cant help thinking it should be me. I sat with my little cousin tonight, its his 2^nd birthday, and I just rubbed his little feet until he fell asleep, to me it was a special, sweet moment, watching him fight back those dreams, trying to enjoy every last second of his birthday, and all I could think is I wont ever get this. I wont ever sit up with my baby rubbing his feet until he falls asleep, I wont just look at him wondering what hes dreaming about, I will never watch him dive into cake or run with balloons or tear open gifts. I cant help but think it should be me. I just miss my bug, I miss the memories I never will have, I miss the things that were stolen from me along with my son. I miss the little things, the things that some parents just overlook. To all my readers who are moms, please, please, please, treasure every moment, every smile, every little thing that you may not think matters, even the hard times, the screams, and the tears. It all counts. 

Turning to God

The one thing that I have been trying to do is turn to god through my pain. This is so hard because I am so confused as to why this is all happening and I know that he knows the answers to the questions, I know this is in his control and I cant do anything about it, its up to him. A lot of people get mad at god after a loss like this because they blame him. I like to think that god doesn’t do things like this to hurt or to punish but to teach. We don’t always understand the lesson he is teaching, it may not always be clear but if we trust in him, if we just hand it over to him, just surrender to him and pray things will work out. That’s the hard part, prayer, usually lately my prayers turn to one of two things “please please please give him back” or “why me, why him?” I know that this is something I need to work on because I know that god is not going to undo the past few months, he is not going to just erase it all un do it and make it go away, im sure there is a rewind button in heaven somewhere but I know that he never uses it, he took my son for a reason, as much as I hate it it was no mistake or accident there was a reason. As to why me and why him, I used to just wonder why bad things happened to good people now I think that bad things happen to good people because we are the ones strong enough to pull through, because our hearts are so big and full of kindness and love and that makes us stronger. I know that the more I understand the closer I get to god the easier this will become and the less I will hurt. Its just trying ot get on the same page with God, to trust in him. The hardest part is to learn and practice patience. I know that things happen when they happen because god wants them to happen that way, I just need to let him take the wheel a little more and trust that if I praise him, if I love him, keep my faith in him and pray things will all work out, easier said than done sometimes.

Mercy Me - Homesick (Live)

this song is so painful to listen to but it is so true, i just hurt because i dont know how long i have to wait untill i see my son again, i dont know why i have to hurt like this, and even if i did know it wouldnt be better because i would still be here without him. i always say half my heart lives in heaven and its so true.

I just wish that everyone would just get it!

I understand that my situation is complicated and that not  everyone understands it, I understand that people will be uncomfortable because they don’t want to make me hurt worse. These are the things that people don’t get that hurt the most though.

1.)    Not talking about my baby makes me feel like you are either A forgetting him or B trying to pretend like he never existed. I want to hear his name every day, show me you love him, show me you miss him, show me you remember and honor him, say his name, talk about how much you miss him and the good times you remember because that shows me that he lives on in your heart. His name is music to my ears, it may make me cry, but not hearing it makes me cry more.

2.)    A few months have passed but I will never be over it!!!!!!!! This is not something that I will get over, ever. You don’t get over this, it is impossible, you get through it, you get stronger, and you learn to live, but until I figure out how to do all that give me time. I may have a few good days, I may have a full week or even a few good full weeks but that doesn’t mean that I am better. I am going to have bad days, a week from now I will still hurt and may have a bad day, a year from now, 5 years from now. Especially on anniversaries and his birthday and every holiday that I have to spend without him. Please, please don’t give me slack about it, tell me to get over it, or tell me that its been long enough that these rough days should be past because they will never pass, as long as I m without my son these days will come. Please just be patient until I learn how to re-live my life without him, its not an easy task.

3.)    Not every loss is the same.  No one knows how I feel but me. You may know this kind of pain, you know what it feels like to miss someone so much that it physically hurts, to just yearn for their touch again. The best way to describe it is everyone who has lost someone walks down a path; our paths all have different bumps, twists, turns, and obstacles, and however at the same time our paths walk in a parallel direction. No two paths are identical so I don’t know how you feel and you don’t know how I feel. I do understand that people say this out of compassion, and I am not saying by ANY means that my loss is more painful than someone else’s, or that someone else’s loss is less than mine, they are all different, for example I have had mothers who lost a baby before their birth tell me that they feel for me because I had time to bond with Bug and that must have made it that much harder to lose him, that they can’t imagine the pain. I on the other hand feel the opposite, I have 10 weeks of memories with my bug, I know what his smile looks like, I know what his bug eyes looked like, what he liked, 10 weeks of love and memories, something a mother who suffered a miscarriage or stillbirth did not get. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without that 10 weeks. Doesn’t mean that their loss is greater than mine or mine greater than theirs just different. No 2 stories are the same no 2 losses are the same. We all have one thing in common that makes our losses hurt unbearably, we all miss someone we love more than the air we breathe.

4.)    Don’t tell me I can have more kids. I can have 50 more kids but none of them will be him. I will love them as much as I loved him, I may even value them more because of what I have learned through my loss but another child will never ever replace him. I will always hurt because he is not here, watching my future children will hurt because it will make me realize how much I will miss out on with my bug. A child is not a band-aid, a quick fix, or an eraser. It will never fix or heal or undo my pain but it will bring a light back into my life.

Now saying this I know that not all people say or do things with the intention of hurting me or making me uncomfortable. I get my situation is different and difficult to understand, but please please just try to understand, don’t be afraid to ask me how I feel about something, don’t be afraid to ask what I want from you or what makes me feel comfortable or uncomfortable.  

Just when I thought things were Improving...

So it has been a long time since I have blogged I just haven’t had the time but I will be posting a few at a time here and there to catch up starting with this one

Just when I thought things were getting better I get that sucker punch that I have been waiting on. Reality. It has been 5 months now and things are getting so much harder every day,. The panic attacks, the breakdowns, I used to cry a few times a day a few minutes at a time, now it’s a few times a day for an hour or so at a time. I have been told that this is because the reality has set in, things are more and more real now, I think it’s because I’ve just had enough. 5 months is enough time without my baby, 5 months has been enough time without kissing him, without feeling his fuzzy head, 5 months without hearing his cry, and it’s just too much. I don’t want to do it another day, I don’t want to go one more day without him and each day that I go without him this pain grows and it grows. I feel like I’m at my limit, I feel like I’m just done. I just want him back, I just miss him, I would give the world for my baby back, I would give anything to just hold him again, to rock him to sleep again. I just feel like I have had enough pain and I can’t escape it, I can’t make it stop growing and I can’t get through it. I want it to all be over but I know that it will never be over, not until god decided that he is ready to call me home to be with my baby. Then it will be over. Everyone told me to prepare myself because things would get worse before they got better but at the time I didn’t think that it was possible for things to be worse but I was wrong, so wrong, they are worse, much much worse. When it hits you, it finally hits you like a ton of bricks. I’m just waiting for this to get better, everyone keeps saying it will god I hope they are right not sure how much more of this I can take.