One Year From Now...

Well here is the last assignment for my photography class. I am truly sad that it is over.

I sit here in tears as I think about an entire year without Sam. A whole year, how can that be possible? One year makes me think of what he would be like. What would his first birthday party theme be? Would he be walking by his first birthday? What would his little voice sound like when his first word left his little lips? Tears...

I have to be honest, I can't think of my future, not even one day from now. I never really have been a person that could see themselves doing anything in the future. And now that Sam is gone, I am afraid to look into the future. I am afraid that it will be filled with other losses and pain. My husband always tells me that I pigeon hole my hopes and this is one aspect I don't want to do that with. I do hope my family grows in the future, in one year, I don't know. I hope that my future brings me a way to contribute to the babyloss community in a profound way. I hope that I am able to keep Sam's legacy alive. In one year...

Tomorrow and in the near future, I want to be sure that I am expressing my love for my family in a way that everlasting. Sam has given me the gift to love deeper, greater, and more intensely than I ever thought possible; I want to be sure that my husband and daughter know that love.

As this class draws to a close, I want to express my appreciation to Beryl for creating this class specifically for grieving mothers. I wished that this didn't have to end and we could some how get a year's worth of photo challenges to help with the grieving process. My photography is showing me something I never thought I was any good at and giving me the confidence to get in front of the camera myself.

Thank you Beryl and thank you ladies for your sincere honestly and trust. We got to figure out a way to get the first Illuminate class together...in person. I would love to meet all of you. Thank you ladies!

Regrets...

At Sam’s park today I started out doing good, not crying just enjoying the peacefulness his final resting place brings me. Until, I crouched down in front of him, as I always do, I kiss his wall and tell him how much I love him. I lost it again. I was crying so hard I was echoing in the mausoleum. I didn’t care if anyone heard me or saw me-I was blasted with emotions that have been dormant for a couple of days. I don’t know what it is about me crouching down in front of him that gets me every time. I kneel there and picture the exact set up of the inside of his crypt. I know where everything is placed; I almost wished I had taken a picture of it. I will have to do a sketch of it sometime just to keep it fresh in my head.

            On my way home I began to think of things that I never really gave a through look at before. I mean I have thought about it before just never really took the time to figure out why I thought about it. I still don’t know why I have the feelings I do about it. The it I am referring to are the words that I spoke to Sam in the hospital. I don’t regret the words I spoke; I just wished that it were more. I can tell you exactly the three phrases I spoke to his lifeless body: “Mommy loves you”, “I Love You”, and “I’m so sorry”. Those phrases are so burned into my brain the play constantly in my head all day long. Those phrases have become my background music to the life I try to live with out Sam in my arms. I don’t think I wanted to express hopes and dreams to him, but I just wanted to say more. I didn’t want to tell him of my hopes and dreams for him because I somehow do want him to think he has let me down. I still have a hard time expressing those broken dreams and empty hopes. My baby isn’t here and I am still trying to protect him… I don’t exactly know what more is, but those three phrases are all I could think of to express how I feel.

            I also was reminded of things I regret not doing with him in the time that I did have him. I guess I am thinking of these things because now the reality is setting in that I will never have that time with him again. Those hours that I was able to hold my sweet baby boy in my arms were, what felt like seconds. I wish that I snuggled with him more and held him different ways. I don’t know why these things are important to me now. I can only lean on the reason that these would have given me more memories. I am at a stage that I an desperately hanging on to any memory that I can to help me hold him just a tiny bit closer. The only reason that I can think of why I didn’t snuggle him or hold him as if he were alive is because I was afraid of hurting him. I know that sounds ridiculous because he was already an angel, but I was trying to protect him from any further harm. I guess I already felt like I let him down in the worst possible way, I didn’t want to hurt his fragile tiny body.

Only if life had a rewind button… Would I change the way I held him or the things I said to him? Or would I change the circumstance?

            Work is just around the corner. I am a nervous wreck about going back. If I could just quit I would. You know me, anything to avoid the situation. I think it is just the reality of life without my baby that will really be in full swing and nothing to stop it. I don’t want to be doing “better”. Eww, I hate that word; so filled with guilt. I am trying to avoid it, but I know it will be here soon and I will have to go through the motions.