A little Piece of Sam

This was an article shared a while back on Fran's blog over at Small Bird Studios. The article explains how one doctor feels that when women are pregnant that a portion of the baby's cells are forever in the body of the mother. They are to believed to provide protection for the mother.

For me, this is comforting that Sam and Michalina are with me forever-no matter what. I have a part of them with me and they have formed who I am today.

Take a look at the article here. It is worth reading and not very long.

First Christmas down, forever to go...

Okay, okay I know it has been almost a month since my last post and that is not like me. But, I have had a hard time posting lately. There are many posts that I would run through my head and think okay I will sit down and write it. Then, I chicken out. I don't know why, well I sorta think I know. Since Christmas was fast approaching my anxiety was/is on high octave. Just the mention of Sam's name would put me into tears. People would ask how I was doing and I would have to use everything in my power to not shatter into little pieces. Just the thought of actually starting to write my feelings scared the shit out of me because I knew I would be a sobbing mess.

Sometimes people say the anxiety leading up to the event is worse than the actually event. I don't know if that was entirely true for me. Christmas morning was nice only because I had the light of my life to be happy for. Which she said to us last night, "I don't think you guys got me enough presents." Yep, my child is selfish. So of course, I gave her the talk of children who don't get anything for Christmas and she stopped that talk right away.

In Ashley's words, "you might be a Redneck..."

Anyway, during one of my shopping sprees for Michalina I couldn't help but think that I will be buying nothing for Sam for Christmas except what goes at his "wall". That thought alone made me sick to my stomach. How could I not get my son a Christmas gift? So, I came home and explained to Lucas, in tears, that I got something for him, I want it wrap it and put it under the tree. I don't know what I am going to do with it, but at least I bought something for him that I know he would have loved.

My sister-in-law is amazing. She brought us to tears on Christmas morning by delivering the night before a stocking filled with notes for Sam on his first Christmas. She had all the notes typed and in their own envelopes inside a cute little stocking. The notes were beautiful! They simply took our breath away. It amazes me how compassionate family can be. I am also, floored at the impact my little boy has had on people. It makes me such a proud mommy.
I will treasure these notes for years to come. Words cannot begin to tell you how grateful we are Ashley.

After gifts on Christmas morning we stopped at Sam's park for our usual holiday picnic. Note for next year: DD is closed on Christmas day. So, that was a bit of a bummer.

Rewind, Christmas Eve we took it easy and opted out of the normal routine. We had a quiet lunch at my in-laws. To my surprise, they gifted us a beautiful Willow rosemary Angel. I never knew rosemary was a sign of remembrance.

Back to Christmas day...(sorry for jumping around, there's a lot to say) 


I am again, overwhelmed by they impact of my little boy. We were showered with gifts for Sam. Everything from ornaments for his tree to angel figurines with his name on it. I, of course, sobbed like a baby with gratitude and overwhelming joy my son was not forgotten on Christmas day.

I can honestly say I am proud to be this little boys mommy. Even though he never left me alive he has touched lives beyond my imagination. I am humbled by the power of his life. I pray that this power NEVER lingers and that his memory stays in peoples heart for years to come.

For us, a promise is a promise, we will never forget him.

Six Months and Three Weeks...

I sit here in awe at myself. I never thought I would make it to six months and three weeks. There is nothing significant about the date, just that it has been over six months since Sam passed away. I am not only in awe at this I am sickened by it at the same time. How could a mother live that long without seeing her baby, caring for her baby. Now I know, I'm not an idiot, I know that I can't do those things. But, seriously, think about it. What mother can do those things and still breathe everyday and wake every morning?

A mother who has buried her child.

I find myself most days so completely numb to the pain of not having Sam physically in my life that I often forget to live it. I currently can say my status is existing and I am not sure I am comfortable with it. I want to live each day for my son proving his existence and honoring his life.

But how?

I have so many ideas that I just don't know where to start. I have dreams of hosting a site where mother's of loss can visit and know that they will find comfort in Sam's Promise to never forget and never be forgotten. I want now more than anything.

What's the hold up...money!

Do you know that it is almost $800 to get a non-for-profit up and moving in IL? Pretty shitty when all you want to do is help.

Dreams of providing an array of information to parents that have just been stricken with the most horrifying news they will ever hear. I want to comfort them and make sure they know they are and never will be alone in this mess.

There will be more after us...

I am numb by the demands of life, to be a mother, wife, daughter, sister, granddaughter, teacher, and friend.

So many shoes to fill. The only one I am comfortable in most of the time is mother.

Mother to an Angel.

Mother to Michalina.

Yuck! Get this costume off of me. Let me talk about my son 24.7. Let me cry when I feel like it. Let me surf the web for hours on end looking and reading about stillbirths and grief. Don't give me responsibilities that I can't and don't want to fulfill.

I can't get enough of everyone's blogs. I would read them all day long. I feed off of the attempt to feel normal or a little less lonely in the abyss of tears.

Then reality sets in...

The earth doesn't stop. I found that out when the cards stopped coming and people stop calling or showing they care. I tried to stop the world when I lost Sam. Nobody cared. The earth does not stand still for anyone! In fact, it doesn't even slow down. I am learning that now with the holiday's. Since I know it won't stop until I can regain my footing, I want to put on my superhero cape and grab hold of the enormous sphere and just slow it the fuck down. But I got no cape and the world still ticks months in advance for the Christmas cheer of spending a boat load of money on shit people don't need. Christmas is at every turn just to stand there and stick it's tongue out and laugh at me in ridicule that it's not slowing down for shit!

With each passing day, I am reminded that I have to still have Christmas with out my adorable 7 month old baby sitting up in his bumbo ready to chew on the wrapping paper that "Santa" picked out special for him. I am forcefully reminded that there are no gifts to be bought for him only mausoleum wall decorations. Christmas and happy families are here and coming at me full force.

Life lesson: The world does not stop when your baby dies and don't think for a second that it's even going to slow down enough for you to take a breath! 

Damn!

You know, sometimes I am so grateful for this blog and others I hate it! I love it because it is my release and my escape from reality. It is my way of reaching out to you mothers that know just how I feel. It is my release to express my emotions when I have no idea how else to express them. 

Then there is the hate. 

When people don't understand why I post things that I do. 

Why I feel the way that I do. 

Things that are said are taken personally and found offensive. 

This is not meant to be...

Where is that damn private button on Blogger? Ugh! I wish that I could block some posts from readers, while others I want to share with all my readers. Sometimes I just prefer Wordpress. 

Sometimes I wish never shared my blog with friends, family or anyone who actually interacts with me on a personal basis. 

This blog is my outlet people; my cigarette, if you will.

If there are issue I need to discuss with you, I will, when my head is clear. Otherwise this is a place for me to sort things through. I may or may not ever confront the issue for my own reasons. Sometimes things just need to lie while others need to rise up when I feel I have my head on straight to deal with it.

Days I regret ever sharing this blog with people other than baby loss mama's....Sigh...

We made it...

We managed to make it throught our first Thanksgiving without Sam. It's not like he was ever really "here" for it to begin with but this falls into the dreams category and an added dose of the parallel life of "should have's".
We started the morning at Sam's park with a simple Dunkin Donuts picnic. We ran into some friends there and they stopped by to wish Sam a happy Thanksgiving too. We took our time there and spent a nice Thanksgiving bagel and donut with our Sam.

Then we get to the part of the day that really sucks. Maybe it is just me but I have had moments since I lost Sam that rub me the wrong way that I would have never noticed before I lost him. Almost as if I have an insensitive radar that is on high alert 24-7. Or maybe it is the holiday season that brings this out in mothers that have lost a baby. But when you hear rumors that "you are depressed" because you are excluding yourself from family gatherings? Oooo that erks me. Or when you start to talk about your son that is no longer with you, people clear the room?

Today went well until I could no longer hold it together anymore. By the end of the day I could barely hold myself together. I know that not everyone's life revolves around my angel baby, but fore real could people just remember and acknowledge his existence? I talked about displaying Sam's picture with the rest of the family and I get dismissed with I haven't thought about it. REALLY! You haven't thought about displaying and proving my son's existence? Oh, I'm sorry did I inconvenience your life by tossing in a bump? I am consumed and forced to live a life that I NEVER planned and you haven't thought about it? How could you not, he's your Grandson. He did exisist. He did live even if it was only inside me. And he is a part of this family. 

What I am learning now is I have to sometimes defend or teach people about grief. I'm am not depressed because I exclude myself from events, I'm fucking grieving the lost of my son! We all do this our own way and the is no right way to do it. THERE ARE NO RULES IN GRIEF! So don't give me or my family your advice on how you think I should be handling my grief. If that means I cannot do the same ol' things that I used to. Then so be it. I am not the same person I used to be. I can't pretend that nothing happened. I can't pretend that my son never existed. I will forever defend him, it's my job as a mother to him. 

Our First Sam Adventure

As I type this I am sitting in front of a warm fireplace with a beautiful hand knit shawl around my shoulders- a gift from the women at the United Methodist Church in MN. Some of you may know that Lucas and I have been blessed with a wonderful opportunity to spend a few days at Faith's Lodge in Northern Wisconsin. From the moment you step foot through the doors you are overwhelmed with emotions. Not bad emotions, emotions of love and hope. I look around me and think how many families have been here before me because they know just what it is like to have lost their child. It's not fair no matter how you look at it, but this place fills you with the love that these families have for their child that has passed. You pull into Faith's Lodge and think what a beautiful place this is and it is all because of a baby named Faith that never got to take a breath. Again, something I wished I never had the opportunity to experience, but I am glad that it is available to parents and families like us.
We just got finished making our stepping stone in memory of Sam. Just being in the same room with other parents all with the same sad purpose is unbelievable. The love that surrounds a parent who has lost a baby or a child is so powerful that only another parent of loss could understand.
The grounds here are amazing; although flatten mostly by the storms this summer there is still a beauty to it. We are staying in Kaitlin's suite or Running Deer suite and we could not have asked for a better view. We are overlooking the pond and the fire pit area. Jane and Evelyn are two women with a heart of gold. This place couldn't be more right for us right now.

Later today, after I drag Lucas away from the puzzle we will go for a short walk. We will see how much of the cold I can handle! Please enjoy the pictures.
I will post later...

Roll call

After doing this blog for quite some time now, I have come to the realization that followers of blogs can be so powerful. What I mean by this is no matter your "label", your comments not only impact me but they have a profound impact on other readers. You may not realize it but your comments after posts or simply having your name on the right hand column under "followers" can make a huge difference. Many of you have sent me emails that are beautiful. I wish that I could share them with the others that read my blog. I understand that some things just need to be kept private bit I encourage you to share your thoughts, feelings, and comments with the other people that read this blog.
So here is my challenge for you… create a google account and follow me on this journey, share your comments and questions. I love to hear from you and I am sure that others will get seething out of it too.

Please check out the blogs from other BLM's from still life with circles. Very powerful!

Spoken Word Blog

I don't know where the nerves came from, but I did it. 

I am participating in Angie's Spoken Word Blog  from Still Life with Circles. Angie came up with this brilliant idea of reading a post via video. It is amazing the comfort you get when you hear a post or a blogger read something that is sooo personal. I am comforted by the fact that these babyloss moms do exist. You read their post and try to feel their emotions at that exact moment- but there is nothing like hearing them and even seeing them. Thank you ladies for your bravery and courage to unite and share your deepest emotions and your babies' legacy with the world! 

Here is a little disclaimer...I did ONE take on this! I thought I would try it again without crying, but I thought "na, screw it!" This is what you get, tears and all! Just like I like it, RAW emotions. This is as real as it gets. I didn't get a 2nd take on May 9th, so why should I get one now...

Please excuse the horrible lighting and all around bad picture; I usually look more put together than this.

Michalina-ism 7

In the car last night on our way home from gymnastics and she is having a conversation with me about a boy at school and how he has a bunk bed (she is mildly obsessed with bunk beds after having a sleep over with her cousins Angelica and Gabby). For what ever reason she switches her conversation to Sam and her is what she said...
"-you won't have to cry" "-I will bring Sam down with my hands" Sam will sleep in my bed." 

Of course, I well up with tears. She recognizes this and says, "Mommy are you crying?" I told her, "No, I'm okay." I don't want her to think that every time she brings up Sam that I will cry. I tried to reassure her that I would do anything to bring her brother back so she could do those things with him.
Michalina is my guiding light in this storm, without her I don't know where I would be.

Michalina-ism 6

Again this weekend I was at Sam's park and she could tell that I was upset and missing her brother.                                                                She turns to me and says very compassionately, "I wish I could hold him and make his body work."

I have to edit the post and add Michalina-ism 6.5. It's a half because I can't exactly quote her. The same day as Michalina-ism 6 she mentioned something else that I had forgotten about until driving past a dark cemetery last night. It reminded me of this one...

Michalina mentioned something about sleeping at the mausoleum with Sam. I must have replied with a "we can't" or a "how" because her next phrase was this-"yes, we can just bring sleeping bags."

Funny, because I have thought about doing this many of times. I have even thought about talking with the Windridge office about doing just that- having a sleepover. 

Maybe some day I will get my sleepover with my baby.

That's my boy...

 I was at Sam’s Park the other night and it was freezing. Cold, I mean 57 degrees out and windy as all hell; that’s probably why the 57 degrees felt so cold. I know those of you from the Midwest are thinking 57 degrees is warm. This is not true when you have just gotten out of a mid October week that was reaching temperatures of 80+. That’s right, we went from 85 to 57 in about a day’s time. Got to love Midwest weather.

So, anyways, I was at Sam’s Park, it was about 6:00 and the sun was setting. Michalina was playing around, as usual, while I had my time with Sam. All of a sudden she says, “Mommy, look it’s a butterfly!” I thought to my self “yea, right. Not in this weather-”

Well low and behold there she was, clinging to a bush right across from Sam’s wall. She stayed there the whole time we were there. She let me take a million pictures and even opened her wings twice. Other than that, she just hung on for dear life in the cold wind. I don’t know why she was there at that particular moment or night. But she gave me the reminder that my son is okay.

Thank you Sam for my little message. I love you baby boy.

MISS

I had another MISS Foundation support group meeting last night and I left feeling weird. I don't know exactly what that means, but this is how it all went down. 


I was able to, for the first time, get through my story without crying. I think it might have been because I have a short and condensed version since we had three new people there with us. I left and still did not cry. This sort of bothers me. 


Lately, I have felt so numb that there is nothing that could rock me. Yeah, I may get teary eyes about something. But for the most part I feel like I could get beaten by a mob and not feel a thing. This scares me. I feel disconnected from my feelings and from Sam. I should cry, crying keeps me in a reality check. I know, I know some of you are thinking, it's okay to not cry. For me it's not. This puts me in a place of anger and disconnect. 


I am feeling that I am on the outside looking in at this poor girl who gave birth to her son who never took a breath outside of her womb. I feel sorry for this girl and wish she didn't have to live a life like this; a life filled with mausoleum visits and a constant need to honor her son that few have met. This girl is someone who is lost in a world of loss and grieving. A girl who will always live a life filled with "what if's". A girl who is forever changed by an angel she never got to tell him she loves him. A girl who would give her life to bring her son back.  That girl that I watch everyday is me walking in a life that I never thought I would live or try to live.






Maybe these feelings of numbness are a result of the much anticipated family gathering tomorrow. It will be the first gathering that I am attending with my husband's family. It would be such a big deal if a cousin did have a baby boy one month after me. The only difference is she got to bring her baby home and lay him in a crib, I got to lay mine in a crypt. I don't know why, but it bothers me. Of course, this is no fault of her, but it is the unintentional slap in the face that I don't have my son in my arms. Just thinking about the baby noises he will make or the crying he will let out makes me sick to my stomach because those are the sounds that I miss and yearn for sooo badly. Silence haunts me. It is not the kind of silence like you may think. Silence to me is something so much more. Silence to me is not hearing my Sam cry or make those cute little grunting noises that infants do. Hearing another baby do that in place of mine is earth shattering and crippling. It immediately puts me back to May 9, 2011, in a delivery room filled only with silent tears as my son slipped into this world only to have never entered it. It puts me in the silent delivery room where a hopeful 3 year old enters only to be told her brother is an angel. 
It's the sound that haunts me...




Okay, with Saturday in mind I would like all of my fellow blog followers to join me in National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day and honor Sam by lighting a candle. I will be taking part in a balloon release in South Elgin given by the MISS Foundation and the Sweet Pea Project. Should you participate in remembering all of the babies lost to the unknowns of Stillbirth, please take a picture and send it to me. I would love to make a collage of the candle pictures that you guys send. For me it would be a reminder that Sam's birth has not gone unnoticed and he continues to make in impact on this secret society of Babyloss.


Never forget our babies that were born angels...

Grab a facebook button in honor of October 15th...

Exhaustion

I never realized how physically exhausting it is to live. You see since loosing Sam, I have fought to live each day of my life. For the past five months I have thought about what it would be like with him here and acknowledge how my life has changed since he was born. These are thoughts that are constantly running through my head. I could be having a conversation with someone and they have no clue as to what my brain is really processing. In this effort to conform to "normalcy" I have let my guard down and put myself in a situation that I wasn't in a state of mind to do. This weekend I attended a festival that was great for regular people, but not for me. I was surrounded by friends and families with smiles on their faces having a wonderful day enjoying each others company. Not to mention the babies in my face all day and the happy families. Let me clear one thing up, it is not so much the babies and pregnant women that tear me apart but it's the happy families that just make me feel like the unexplainable. Don't get me wrong I cringe when I hear a baby cry or make those cute little baby noises; but happy families, Ugh! 


Needless to say, I did something that I wasn't ready for that day. Since my grief likes to take the route of a spinning spiral, I can change at any moment. For the past couple of days all I have wanted to do is curl up next to Sam's wall and veg out for hours on end. Then life gets in the way and I do things to please others instead of respecting my emotions at the moment. I am realizing again, that just because I have a daughter and it has been 5 months since I lost Sam, does not mean that I head into a "normal" life. I need to do what is right for me and my family.


Back to my exhaustion. I know many of you will shake your head in agreement when I say that grief is physically exhausting, while others will do the same out of false empathy. There are moments in my days where I feel that I am literally trying to catch my breath or hold my eyes open. This is in no means because I am over exerting myself physically throughout the day, it is because I am so emotional drained. I wonder how long this will last? Then again, I don't want it to stop. I feel like stopping the pain that I feel for loosing Sam is a reminder of it's reality; a reminder that he existed. I know, I know, I won't ever forget my son; but, being happy, to me, feels like I have started a new chapter. For those of you that don't know me, I do not like to settle. And, being content in my life without my son feels like settling. It brings me back to my post about "acceptance". It is not okay that my son died, and it is not okay that people will forget him and forget my family's grief.


I will forever be missing my baby and I will forever be grieving. I will not heal I will only manage to live knowing I am one day closer to being with my baby boy. So, please, spare me the speech and let me grieve. 

Michalina-ism #5

Michalina drew a picture of her and I and this is what she said. "This is up and this is me. You are happy and I am sad." 
Hmm, that's kinda odd that she is the sad one, so , I reply, "Why are you sad?"
"-because I wish I could go to heaven."

Michalina-ism's 2, 3, and 4

This was all on the way home tonight...


# 2: "How do we get to Heaven? I know we can hope on each cloud." I asked her how many clouds would it take to get there and she replies with, " four."


# 3: "I wish I could go to Heaven."


#4: "God will give us angel wings."

Been a while...

I realize it has been a while since I have posted. So here goes my two cents...
It has been weighing on me lately, the statement people tell you when they see the look of grief on your face-"you are in my prayers". Really? 


I see this as another one of those, "how are you doing?" questions. People really don't care "how you are doing" they just are trying to be polite. Complete strangers even ask the "how are you doing" question. It is just a blanket phrases that is overused and never an intentional question but more of a natural reaction to someones initial presence. If people really meant what they said they would be prepared to hear the truth when they ask "how are you?" 

"I'm shitty. This has been another day from hell. Each day is another reminder that my life is forever changed because I have to figure out how to live without my son. I have to figure out how to raise my daughter without her brother. I have to live with triggers that seem to stalk me where ever I go. I have no choice but to be a member of a group that no one wants to be a part of. I am forced to renew my membership at the price of the most painful cost. I am a mother to an angel. So you ask, 'how am I doing?' I've had better days. I remember what it was like to live a life of innocence and naiveness. I too, used to ask, 'how are you' with out really caring what the answer might actually be. So, tell me, now do you still care to ask how I'm doing?"


So here goes my soap box speech on "your in my prayer" statement. 


If I actually had everyone who says they are praying for me, I think I might have actually had some answered prayers by now. Right? I mean it only sounds logical. Thinking back I probably have at least 1 person every two days say this to me. That is a lot of frickin' people praying  for me. If all of these people mention me and my sorrows to the same God that has my son with him, you would think I would get a little something. Nope. I feel like I have only fallen in to a valley, I change that to a gorge, that is impossible to emerge from. My faith has been rocked so hard that I am unsure this same God that allowed my son to die, is the same God that loves me...and this coming from what used to be a very strong faith person. 


Pray for me. I've said it a million times to people. Do people actually do it? Or is it another one of those statements that is said to people when there is nothing more to offer them? If they were praying like they said they were, wouldn't I have -for lack of better words- better results. I suppose this is another one of those moments were someone will chime in and say, some prayers are meant to be unanswered and it is God's plan. I know, I know. I am learning that I have no control over anything. If that's true, I can't help but feel like a puppet and question free will. Is free will only given for opportunity's to screw up? Alright, I know now I am getting a little to philosophical and deep for some of you readers. But, this is what goes through my mind. 


Pray for my family. Pray for us to be reassured that our little boy is safe in the arms of his creator. Pray honest prayers. Pray for honesty. 


Mean what you say and think about what kind of answer you really would like to hear when you ask someone, "How are you?" and if you are going to tell someone that you are going to pray for them, do it, because they might actually need it. Prayers could be all that is left. 

Torture

I constantly feel like I am living in a prison of grief. The longer I stay here the more comfortable I am feeling living in this state. I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing, healthy or not. No matter how you look at it, it sucks. I know I am constantly trying to describe how life is for me and my family or I'm struggling to find the words to paint a picture for the outside world to see what and how these emotions feel and effect my life. But...I'm going to do it again. I can't help but think that the pain, the physical pain, a mother suffers after loosing a child can only be compared to the most God awful, slow, and painful torture. Torture like the slowest death imaginable. It's horrible!!! I hate feeling like this, but in the same breath I feel like if I don't feel this way I am disconnected to my son. I wake every morning and think, "this is not fair". Why do I have to keep waking up? Why do I get to live? Living, feels so wrong. I am not saying that I am suicidal in any means, so please don't put me on your suicide watch list. If suicide was an option I wouldn't be talking about this. Do not worry that this would cross my mind.




Michalina has been talking more with Sam. She involves him in her conversations more. It is so cute...and heartbreaking! I love my daughter more than anything; Michalina going to school is a daily confirmation that my baby girl is growing up. Which of course, puts me further from protecting her. You see, when you loose a child you hold the living child that much closer. I don't believe I am becoming overbaring, but I am making sure I do what I can to keep her out of harms way. Selfish? I don't care.

Honesty is the best policy

So, some of you have been following me for a bit or have read my "Dear Readers". I think it is safe to assume that you guys know how honest I am with my posting. Then again, there are some of you who are friends and family and have known me for quite some time...
Here is another raw and honest post. I forewarn you that these thoughts are not towards anyone directly, just raw emotions...


Here it goes. When will it get easier to hear about people's perfect little family...of four! Hearing about people's outings with mommy, daddy and kids just makes me want to hurl! Could it be jealousy, absolutley. I don't deny that at all. I also know that it brings up a handful of emotions I'd much rather keep at bay. That sadness, creeps in and manages to bite me and consume me. Hearing about other perfect little family's with no death concerns in the world is like salt in an open wound. When will this feeling go away!! I don't like it, it makes me feel like an awful person. 
I feel like family's live their lives with normalcy and not have to worry about what emblem they are going to put on their son's crypt wall. They go on living a life of innocence and here we are left to live a life in fear that we will be victims of a silent delivery room. Maybe it stings because I am at a point that there is nothing I can do to change or improve on in my situation. I am stuck! Stuck in the realm of grieving. Stuck in this spiral that has no end in sight. I will always be missing my son, he will never be in my arms again, and my daughter will always have a bother she can't play with. I will always be answering questions of death and heaven from a little girl that held her still brother. 


Innocence and naive mindsets are over-rated. Society is a fantasy. 

Random Thoughts

So, over the past week or so I have had some random thoughts that have crossed my mind I thought I would share with my trustee bloggers and followers...


Michalina has said some things that I think are either incredibly intelligent for a 3 year old or they are incredibly cute and need to be noted. So, with that said I will try to write them down and share them with you all.

Michalina-ism #1: "I know, we can hold hands and bounce up to heaven and catch Sam; but, first we have to get some bouncy shoes."


I have been contemplating what is worse...keeping Sam's bedroom door closed or leaving it open. The way I am seeing it this week is, wither way I am filled with a tremendous amount of sadness. With his door closed I am constantly looking at a closed door that should be open and filled with the smell of a new baby. The closed door is a reminder of broken dreams and hopes for a future with my baby boy. Seeing it closed is comparable to a smack in the face. Kinda like someone is laughing at me and my sadness
Now the door open can bring a smile to my face and tears to my eyes-all at the same time none the less. The door open makes me smile in remembrance of my sweet Sam. In some weird, twisted way an open door keeps his presence real. On the flip side, the door open brings me tears for the same reasons it is closed. Open, leaves me staring at an empty room that should be filled with baby laughter and smell of baby lotion. Instead I see clothes that were ransacked when we were trying to decide what to burying Sam in, full boxes of diapers, an empty crib, and a framed picture of Sam's hand and footprints in the place he should be sound asleep waiting for a new day. 
For now, the doors remains closed, same as it has for 4 months and 4 days. His room still remains with hurt to tender to touch.




Word to the wise...Do not tell a mother that has just lost her baby that she looks good. This is not a compliment only diarrhea of the mouth from people that have never lost a child after giving birth. Compliments are hard to find for someone that has just lost their child; not much can be taken as a compliment. The only compliment worth giving a grieving mother should be about how they are honoring their child's legacy. Nothing else matters, at least to me.




Taking Michalina to preschool for her first day was not what I ever dreamed it to be. I always thought it would have ben different. I managed to have joy for her; however, sorrow for the "should haves". Once again, it was a reminder of broken hopes and dreams for the future. Preschool is another milestone I will never experience with Sam and Michalina experiences it alone. My baby girl is growing up, she is becoming more independent. If anyone knows Michalina, they know that she is 3 going on 16; preschool has just confirmed that. Sad because my little girl is growing up and sad because her brother is not here to share her experience. 


October 15th is coming up. This is a day that has been marked Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. On this day there will be a balloon release donated by the Sweet Pea Project in South Elgin at Footprints Memorial Park (corner of rt. 31 and state st.). The balloons are biodegradable and filled with seeds in hopes that a plant will be born in remembrance of your baby/child. If you have any questions about the release please email me. All are welcome to attend the release.




Another Illuminate opportunity came to our class, even though we have been long done with the class. Beryl Young, the women behind the Illuminate movement, was contacted by the author of Baby Dust for some pictures for her book trailer. This trailer is just like a movie trailer only for a book. The book is a novel based on five women's story of baby loss; either still birth or miscarriage. The book is due out this fall. Take a look at the trailer; all of the pictures are from ladies in my Illuminate class. Sam and I are featured at the end of the trailer. Please feel free to share this with every one you know-I am a proud parent of an angel! 
Click here----> Baby Dust Book Trailer

Michalina's First Day of Preschool

Tests

I often wondered if my life is filled with tests that I have repeatedly failed. Just when I feel like I am crouching down to pick up the pieces to begin to glue myself back together, I break all over again. It sometimes feels like one after another I get these hard blows to the gut that knock me to my ass. 


Ever since I gave birth to Sam, my "body", has gone crazy. I have had a really hard time with this. There is no linking to the reason why I lost Sam, so please do not flood me with comments of possible answers! I feel like screaming at God! "Why can't you just cut me a break?" If I can't have my son back just give me my body functioning correctly. I don't want to have to deal with anymore of this shit. Dealing with these additional issues leaves me feeling stuck. Stuck in the realm of a constant reminder that something went wrong in my pregnancy that humans are to blind to see and may never figure out. I feel that this "tests" is one that is shoving and smothering me in the reminder that my son is not here with me.


I also am dealing with the thoughts about a friend. A friend of 16 years that still has not even acknowledged that I lost Sam. I don't know if there is a reason for this or not. Regardless, I would think feelings could be set aside to send a text message. Just feeling extremely hurt by this lack of compassion. I know I am a pretty private person, however, I think once time goes on support matters more. I feel as time moves forward, I need more support because the sense of normalcy is crippling. People move on with their lives and forget that I gave birth to a baby boy that did live, even if it was only inside of my womb. He was a real human being. -maybe she thinks I am contagious- (sorry that was an after thought).


On the flip side of things, there are a couple of friends that have been nothing short of incredibly awesome with support. These friends, I hope they know who they are, have gone out of their way to check in with me-even if it is just through a text. This gives me an indescribable feeling of support. I feel that they have kept my one request alive-never forgetting about Sam. Most of the time it is not even directly acknowledging that I gave birth to Sam, but just simply understand that my life has changed forever and I am a different person. They are not afraid to talk to me and not afraid to mention his name. Comfort. They have given me more than I can ever thank them for. I hope this support lives on forever. Thank you Heather and Sarah from the bottom of my heart, thank you!


Staying on the same positive note...my work family is incredible. I have to say that I have a remarkable support system here that is overwhelmingly encouraging. People show me support for my new/changed life. I have wonderful boss that has been truly amazing. She too has given me more than I could have ever asked for. Comfort is what I feel while I am at work; that is more than I could ever ask for. Thank you!

The Terrible Three

The 3 most terrifying grieving emotions to shake; sadness, hopelessness, and anger. These 3 creep up on you like no other; they are also the hardest ones to shake. They grab hold and are relentless. Their grip is so tight it is almost impossible to breathe. I find myself gasping for air as I try to get rid of these feelings long enough to regain my composure. Just when I think I got it, it sinks its teeth deeper into my heart. I try to talk myself through it-”you can do this, there is only 3 more hours left at work…” But I can’t, I can’t breathe!

These emotions strike with no warning. The boil through me like they are venom from a snake. They are relentless and take a hold me with an immense intensity. It is very hard for me to put it into words what I feel when the terrible three take hold.

Today it was sadness and hopelessness that struck me. The anger was not a part of the nightmare today. Sometimes the sadness and the hopelessness are so consuming that there is no room for anger; but always, sadness and hopelessness are together. For me these two emotions travel in a pair. I have never experienced one without the other.

Anger is a different story because it fills me with so much rage that there isn’t room for much of anything. The anger is ugly and very scary. Anger fills me with thoughts that are extremely disturbing to the ignorant and naive.

I sit here at my desk, in my office with tears rolling down my face uncontrollably. I want so bad to make it through today, but I don’t think I can. I am too far-gone. But I have to. I have to learn how to shelf these emotions for a more appropriate time. This is just another learning curve in my life without my son.

I just want to feel him again…alive.

I love you Sam.

My baby is very real. We are just blind to his wings.

Names

Today was the day that I turned the corner in the mausoleum and saw it. I saw mine and Lucas’ name on the wall. Initially my heart dropped, then immediately following, my eyes welled up with tears of happiness. I never thought I would be excited and happy to see my name on my crypt before I needed it. However, when you bury your own child, I think things change. This was something I always said I would never do. That is why it took a little bit before we went into the cemetery office to make the request and pay for it. Now I am glad we made the decision. We wanted our names up so that Sam wasn’t alone, even if ours are empty, our names are right next to his. His name no longer seem to be alone amongst a bunch of strangers; his name is accompanied by his mommy and daddy’s.  I know this may sound strange or weird to many people; but I know many bereaved parents would eel the same as me and smile when they see their crypt next to their child. I now know that I will be with my baby again.

I am filled with peace and happiness now that it is official my baby doesn’t have to be alone, even if it is just my name on the wall. For what ever reason it was this brought tears of happiness and a smile to my face.

Dear Readers...

Please take a moment to read my new tab, "DEAR READERS". I felt it was necessary to give all of my readers a little disclaimer. I think you guys should be forewarned about the raw emotions you will, or have read in my posts.

Knocked Down Again

 I am sitting here at Michalina’s gymnastics…now with tears in my eyes.

It’s ironic how the babyloss mother gets stuck sitting in the viewing area with 2 newborn babies! Of course the viewing room is empty-except the babies and their HAPPY, BLISSFUL moms! It makes me want to fucking SCREAM! Then to top it off someone approaches one of the mothers to oogle over the cute little baby and tell the mom how good she looks for just having a baby! I find cover and run. I can’t take it! Why is it that millions of moms get to live through ignorant bliss while others get to live through the worst pain imaginable. It is almost like someone is dangling Sam’s passing in my face and saying, “this is what you coulda had…”

I just feel trapped in a time frame that will not allow me to cross the line. Between my body doing weird shit and trying to figure out how to live my life with out my son, I feel like I am jumped by a massive, brutal gang every single day. Do you know what it’s like to try and get up after being beaten to a pulp? It’s one of the hardest things I have ever done…live, survive and I have to do that every day of my life.

Breathe

Yesterday there were moments that made me crippled with sadness. I visited Sam’s park and was, for what ever reason, buckling at my knees with such a sadness that no one could know unless they have buried their child way too early. I look around at my world and think and feel how unfair the of hand I was dealt. It’s like God is using a trick deck and giving me the shitty cards. I know I am not the only one in the world that feels life is so unfair. However, think of it like this, my unfairness is more about my questions.

I once read an explanation for how a baby/child loss mother lives her life. The explanation was an analogy for winning a Golden Globe or an Emmy for best actress. I have been thinking a lot about this analogy and how true it is. Every day I see people look at me or talk to me like I’m “okay”. I am sure they see me as functioning and taking on tasks that were before Sam and think, “she’s doing okay”, “she’s not ‘grieving’ anymore, she must be done”. Ha! I am far from that! I am shattered inside just trying to keep my head above water. Have you ever wore a pair of pants that are waaayyyy too tight? All day long you are thinking about going home and ripping them off so you can finally breathe. You walk around work making it look like your are so comfortable and go about your daily task because you just can ‘t leave yet. Then, you get home and rip the pants off and can finally relax and be yourself and be comfortable. This is how I feel only I wear grief and pain all day long. I can’t let anyone know that I am so broken inside that my body is screaming with sadness. These kind of emotions make people uncomfortable. When people can’t identify with you, they are give hollowed empathy. They don’t know what to say to you and you don’t expect them to say anything to make you feel better.

I don’t know how long I will feel this way and I don’t know if I will ever feel any different. I will always be the elephant in the room. People will forget my sweet baby boy and I will forever be broken and missing my angel.

We have earned the Best Actress award by a force that was uncontrollable. We have been given this award because no one could ever imagine unless they have been there themselves. We have won this award because we have to belong to a society that cannot identify with the pain that fills us. The award is given to us in solitude and no one is giving a standing ovation.