Her kind soul strikes again

Yep, she's done it again. Last week Michalina had a dentist appointment on a very WINDY Wednesday. Excited as she was to see the salt water fish in the waiting room she was even more excited to see the dentist, Dr. Scott. Just like any dentist he makes conversation with the patient that can't always respond because the have a mouth full of hand.

As Michalina does with anyone when she is super excited she was running her mouth and couldn't stop talking. So, whenever she got the opportunity to talk with out a hand or tool in her mouth she was talking-about everything. She shows him her "Sam bracelet" and tells him, "I have a baby brother named Sam. Yeah. He's in heaven." Low and behold he replies with, "I have a baby in heaven too. Do you think they might be friends?" Michalina doesn't respond. I guess because she doesn't get that response often so she was caught off guard because believe me she always has something to say.

The conversation then turns to me. He tells me what a wonderful idea it is to have that for her and where I got it. I'm sure at this point my eyes where lighting up. It's not everyday you come across people in our community. I eagerly tell him about the bracelet and  how my husband made it for her at Faith's Lodge and what a wonderful place it is for parents like us.

Fast forward to the end of the great check up...

Every good kid gets a prize. So which one does my daughter pick for the extremely windy day? The balloon! A purple one, of course.

The purple balloon makes it to the car and is good company until...she tells me she wants to, "-send it to heaven for Meleah."

Side note and background: Meleah is another angel I have met on this grief journey. Meleah's parents have become close friends of ours. In fact Meleah and Sam share the same "park"; Meleah in the cemetery and Sam in the mausoleum. We pass by Meleah every time we come and go from Sam's park. You can read about Meleah's mom here at here blog.

Back to the balloon.

I tell her we need to let it go at home so it can escape the trees and power lines. We make it home and she can barely wait to send a balloon to heaven for Meleah. 

The pink flower and butterfly are also from Michalina to Meleah. She picked them out while shopping for Sam's Easter decorations. 

Such a compassionate soul at only 4! She never ceases to amaze me. The compassion and love this small child has gained since holding her still brother. Nothing I ever want her or any of my other future children to experience. She has not only gain a brother she has gained a compassionate soul. 

The door

My morning began with Michalina calling out, "Emergency, emergency! Theres an ant in the bathroom."

In an effort to rid my house of the ants that seem to be taking over lately, I vow to myself that I am going to vacuum the whole house today. I was determined to suck up those sons of a bitches! 

I finish the downstairs and head upstairs to the second part of the battle. Yep! Ants upstairs too. Upstairs is done, then I came to the last room at the end of the hallway. I was faced with the door that has rarely been opened for the past 11 months. The door that sheltered the shattered dreams and hopes for my little boy. 

With vacuum in hand, I placed my hand on the doorknob, took a deep breath and opened it. Immediately, my breath is taken away (literately) by the rush of dreams that were supposed to be. I kept my head down and tried to focus on the carpet and the task at hand. Yeah, that didn't last for long. I quickly was being suffocated by the overwhelming should haves, dreams, and flashbacks. I am sobbing while I vigorously push the demon vacuum back and forth. I continue until my tears are blinding me from what I was in there to do.

I find myself slumping over his crib filled with his clothes that have been scattered about after my husband and I angrily looked for something to bury our only son in. I held a onesie that said "mommies little man" on it and cried. I wanted to see him in that onesie so bad. I wanted him to be in that outfit. I wanted to hold it and smell him. Instead I smell my detergent never tainted by the fragrant smell of a newborn. I shuffled through other clothes that I remember thinking, I can't wait to see him in this. 

A onesie that said Handsome just like daddy,

Daddy's little monster...

Clothes filled with dreams and hopes for a future that was never going to be. 

I began going through parts of his bedroom. I was ready for him. I was ready for there to be a newborn baby boy entering my family within weeks from when I diligently fixed and prepared the perfect space for him. I couldn't have been more prepared to bring home a baby alive.

I see the bouncy on the floor in the corner that is falling apart. I am swarmed by the memory of trying to put it together with Michalina the week before I gave birth to Sam. I remembered her and I put it together with the certainty that her little brother was going to be in it shortly. I remember how excited she was to help me and how it didn't matter to her that we goofed up and had to tackle it again to make sure we put it together the right way. 

And there it sits, still half way put together. Frustration of a very pregnant mother written all over it. Failure, it says, laughing and mocking me. 

I have been toy with the idea of opening his door for about a week now. I don't know why, but I have been wanting to go in his room lately. Today I just felt that I had a purpose that was not driven by curiosity of grief and sadness. It found me, still managing to wrestle me to the ground. In tears on the floor of my son's bedroom. 

I close the door and whisper, Mommy loves you Sam. I miss you so much. I'm sorry, I wanted to protect you. I love you. I love you. 

Empty.

I don't know why I am surprised by this feeling. I shouldn't be because I have felt this overwhelming emotion many of times. But this time I can't stop thinking about it.

I was at Sam's Park on Sunday, just as I do every week, and the feeling got me. Empty arms. I sat with my arms aching with emptiness. It's like reality cam whipping around the corner again, pointing at my arms and laughing. Grief is funny sometimes. I almost feel like it's mocking me at times.

There was nothing different this time. I walked down the pathway to the mausoleum with Michalina, my chair, camera, and book in tow. This time required a flower change since Valentines day was long gone. I opened my chair and began to cut stems and prepare the bouquet for a new spring look. Michalina rode her bike around the courtyard as I did my thing. She is pretty used to the routine. When I was done, I sat there. Empty. I did what I had come to do. Now what? I was still left with arms that are empty and heavy at the same time.

It's that heavy empty feeling that has been with me since Sunday. Why is this new to me? My arms have been empty since May 9, 2011. Maybe it's the anticipation of the upcoming month of May. I don't want May to come, yet I want it to hurry up and go. Ah, anticipation. That's a whole other post.

Just feeling heavy with emptiness lately.

Before the Morning

Early in my grieving I posted a lot on the Babycenter forums for mothers of stillborn babies . In my months of posting, desperately wanting to connect to people like me, I met a women that sent me this song, Before the Morning by Josh Wilson. It is a Christian song, so when I found that out I was reluctant for a couple of reasons. My first reason was because I was never one for Christian music, I don't know why, but some songs really bothered me. My second reason, I was more angry at God than I ever have been. I blamed God, I sometimes still do, that he took or allowed my son's death. It was the last thing on my mind- listen to a Christian song possibly about a God who took my son from me. It wasn't happening. 


Months passed and I came across it again. I clicked on the link and began listening. Oh, I think it was after the first verse I was in tears! I have grown to love this song. It is a song that fills me and comforts all of the emotions I have on a daily basis. This song gives me permission to hope and be sad at the same time. 


I am really trying to fill my life with hope lately. I want to believe so bad that there is life after loosing my only son. I want to believe and trust in the God that has him cradled in his arms. I want to find hope that I will be able to take a baby home and relive the life of a newborn in my house. 


That is exactly what this has been for me, a dare. A dare that taunts me into believing in the morning that I will wake up with my little boy in my arms again. But then some how the guard goes up to protect my broken heart from hurting again. I try, I need to believe there is a reason to live. To live with hope. Love. Purpose.


...just fight the good fight because the pain you've been feeling, it's just the dark before the morning... This is just what life is for me. Every morning I wake up knowing I have to fight the a good fight to make it through another day with a gaping hole in my heart. In my life. The hole will never be filled. Not by another baby. Not by some grief advice. Not by the love of the people around me. Sam is a missing part of my life that I have to some how find hope in. 


The dark before the morning is horrible. Filled with such anticipation. I cling to this song to find hope in the morning waiting for me. The blazing light blinding as I reach for my little boys hand thats been waiting for me. 
Hope.

Do you wonder why you have to,
feel the things that hurt you,
if there's a God who loves you,
where is He now?

Maybe, there are things you can't see
and all those things are happening
to bring a better ending
some day, some how, you'll see, you'll see

Chorus:
Would dare you, would you dare, to believe,
that you still have a reason to sing,
'cause the pain you've been feeling,
can't compare to the joy that's coming

so hold on, you got to wait for the light
press on, just fight the good fight
because the pain you've been feeling,
it's just the dark before the morning

My friend, you know how this all ends
and you know where you're going,
you just don't know how you get there
so just say a prayer.
and hold on, cause there's good who love God,
life is not a snapshot, it might take a little time,
but you'll see the bigger picture

Would dare you, would you dare, to believe,
that you still have a reason to sing,
'cause the pain you've been feeling,
can't compare to the joy that's coming

so hold on, you got to wait for the light
press on, just fight the good fight
because the pain you've been feeling,
it's just the dark before the morning
yeah, yeah,
before the morning,
yeah, yeah

Once you feel the way of glory,
all your pain will fade to memory
once you feel the way of glory,
all your pain will fade to memory
memory, memory, yeah

Would dare you, would you dare, to believe,
that you still have a reason to sing,
'cause the pain you've been feeling,
can't compare to the joy that's coming

Would dare you, would you dare, to believe,
that you still have a reason to sing,
'cause the pain you've been feeling,
can't compare to the joy that's coming

com'n, you got to wait for the light
press on, just fight the good fight
because the pain you've been feeling,
it's just the hurt before the healing
the pain you've been feeling,
just the dark before the morning
before the morning, yeah, yeah
before the morning

BEFORE THE MORNING LYRICS - JOSH WILSON