Sunday, December 30, 2012
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.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
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.
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.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
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 :)
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 :)
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
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.
Friday, November 2, 2012
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 :)
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.
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.
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