Michalinaism

Out of the mouth of sibling loss...

M: I love my sister. Mommy, can me, vivianna, and Sam all be together in the same square when we die?

Me: Sure. If that's what you want. 

(Exhausted from trying to explain to her for the millionth time that I hope she dies   when she is old and  has her own family)

...Sigh...

Reminders of why I hate this reality!

Poetic

Just now driving home from a morning breakfast-picnic at Sam's park and an afternoon of shopping with my girls, I see it...

The first and only Monarch butterfly I've seen all season.

It was beautiful. Just as I remember it on that cold windy late October day at Sam's park.

My little boy saying, "Hi, Mommy, I'm here."

This one was different.

I first noticed it as the van in front of me smacked it with the car.

It quickly disappeared from sight. It was gone just like that. Another victim to passing car.

Just then I see something fly from the front of this car and flail in the sky, as if trying to stay afloat.

The Monarch.

Desperately clinging to life.

Trying to fly.

Trying to stay alive.

I watched helplessly as this beautiful creature danced with death. Obviously there was nothing I could do....

But drive and flashback to 2 years, 2 months, and 4 weeks ago.

Did he dance with death?

Did he desperately cling to life?

Or was it quick?

Did he suffer?

I would have saved him if I could.
If I'd known.
I would have laid my own life down for him. I still would, just for a moment with him.

...and it was gone. I could no longer see dance with death. I supposed it died. How could something so fragile survive.

Life's fragile.

Life changes in a second.

Life is out of my control. I hate that.

That Monarch was my son. Gone in an instant.


Ahhhh...He laughs again at me. You don't make it easy to find faith.

It's been a while...

I  know, I know, I'm one of those moms that have a rainbow and forget about my grief and stop posting. Well I never wanted to be that way. No, I have not forgotten about my grief, I could never, that would be like forgetting Sam.

You know it's been a while when your husband asks if you have posted lately.

Well I'm going to post. Post something.

Here it goes...

Since my last post a lot has happened so I am going to be short winded because I don't have the time for anything else.

Sam's 2nd birthday. We had a nice evening with family. Since it is also hubby's day we had dinner with the extended family and chilled with just us most of the morning. First we as a family did our own thing; had breakfast, went to Sam's park, sang "happy birthday", and lounged around. It's hard for my husband because he feels the pressure from others to celebrate his birthday but all he wants to do is mourn his son. Since the day went to shit weather wise we ended up in the pitch black and rain at Sam's wall, with the whole family after dinner! That surprised the shit outta me. I have an awesome family to go stand in front of a wall in the dark rain!

Family is victim to another stillbirth. My 3rd cousin gained his wings in June. Yes, I said 3rd cousin, us Italians stick together. Just like Sam, his death was and is a complete surprise. The moment I got the call I knew what I had to do. I had to be there for my cousin and his wife. I waited around for a phone call all day to visit them in the hospital and see this beautiful angel. It was hard to see him but not as hard to see them, the parents of a baby that was supposed to be here in their arms not in Heaven. The odd thing about this set of cousin's is their first child. You see, their first has been one that I've been avoiding.
Why?
Well, you see she is one month younger than Sam. So, needless to say, seeing her is seeing Sam's should have's and what should be his milestones. I hear her talk and wonder what would Sam's voice sound like?
Anyways, of course, that has now all changed. She is a sister to an angel.

Vivianna's 1st birthday. We had the whole shebang. We always said we would. It is our rainbow after all! So we had 63 adults and 19ish kids at our house, and our house is not big by any means, but it worked.

I am amazed at her and her life. She is a firecracker like none other. She is one that will keep me up at night as a teenager. Complete opposite of M. But, I love her just the same.

My faith has gone over the edge. I am in a hole that is very difficult to get out of. Not sure where my son actual is. Is there a Heaven? Is there a God? I don't pray, I can't? I'm scare shitless to. I prayed with Sam and look what happened. Ugh! I hate this feeling and I know deep down this is evil trying to take over but my fucking analytical self seems to make it make sense! So I continue to lie to M and answer her God questions like a true believer. I just would hate to take that away form her too. Anyways, this is a post in and of it's self, one that I've wanted to post for a while just been too chicken to put these thoughts out there for the public. Just avoiding the lectures that will be store.

As for my grief, I'm numb. Just numb! Sam's 2nd birthday was worst than his first. I cried more and miss him more in year 2. I barely have any time to grieve and sometimes take that out on my kids. Which of course is not fair at all. I find my self stifling my tears for the sake of my girls and life that gets in the way. I hate that I don't have time to drown myself in my sorrows and cry whenever I want to.

I think I gave enough to read.

Mommy loves you, Sam.

Hollywood Style

Hollywood style without the lavish materialistic things. The things that make you feel good. Kinda like the work with no play. You know the acting without the payoff.

I pretend a lot lately.

I pretend for my eldest daughter.
I pretend for my youngest.
I pretend for my husband.
I pretend for work.
I pretend for friends.
I pretend for family.

After all, it's been 2 years since I watched that little white box slide into the wall to never emerge again.

I should be different, right?

2 years without my son. It doesn't get any more fucked up than that.
I live a lie everyday.

I pretend it's ok that I have this life.
I pretend that it's okay that I a still furious with God and sometimes doubt his existence at all or that there is a heaven.

I shed a few tears here and there always making sure I don't fall apart. Keep the pieces together Stefanie.

People have forgotten. Or at least they are more comfortable talking babies and life with me. I'm not as comfortable as you think. I pretend. I act. It's what I do well.

Loving my girls doesn't change the fact that I don't have my little boy in my arms. Yes, he's in my heart. But, that's not fucking good enough. I selfishly want all 3 of my kids in my arms.

I don't pray. I have doubts of God existence or his goodness. I hate him for what he's done to my family.

-But I pretend for her, for them. They have to believe in something.

I'm aching for you baby boy.

-Mommy loves you.