First Days...

Through this grieving journey I have had a lot of “first days” and there will be many more to come. I have had the first day I left the house; the first day I went to the mausoleum; first day back to places I was at when I still had Sam. I have anticipated this “first day”, what it would be like, what would people say or not say, how people would react to me, What I would say to people, or how I would act, what steps would I take to get through the day. I have heard a lot from other baby loss moms that sometimes the anticipation is more intense than actually living through a milestone. Today marks a milestone and a day that is equal to the anticipation; my first day back at work.

I am surrounded by a plethora of people that truly care and are extremely supportive. There are people who have been my guiding light through these times. I cannot begin to describe my gratitude for these people. I am lucky to be a part of a work community that is so loving and comforting through these times. I am comforted by their sincere out reach to support me. You all know who you are, thank you just isn’t enough but all I have to offer right now, so…Thank you form the depths of my heart.

Now comes the guilt. The guilt for grieving amongst my peers and my family. The guilt for feeling useless. The guilt for returning to something that was a life before Sam and go about a routine that seems empty. The guilt returning to something that was and leaving Sam at the way side. The guilt that I have towards him, this may sound stupid to some people; I don’t want him to think that I am forgetting about him.

Shame also follows me in my first day back to work. Shame that I am the one crying and not able to function. Shame that I couldn’t do something to change my circumstance. Shame that I lost my son. I know that I have nothing to be shameful of, but it is still an emotion that has crept up.

Today has brought on a whirlwind of emotions that are impossible to sort through. Remember a while back I listed a bunch of emotions that I feel in one day? Well, today, those came rushing on me in an instant. Every time I turned a corner there was a another emotion there waiting for me.

On the way home I saw a rain cloud in the foreground of a bright sun and a beautiful blue sky which reminded me of my day. Me and my grief are the rain cloud that appears amongst the beautiful blue sky. It sticks out like a sore thumb and lets tears sprinkle down then gets lost in the background and eventually doesn’t matter because it is only a small part of the enormous beautiful sky. As I drove all the “supposed to’s” knocked again. I should be driving home with a smile on my face because I am going home to see my kids again after a long day at work. Instead I open the door to be greeted by only one of my children. I am slapped in the face with no crying baby at home needing my immediate attention.

Failure, guilt, sadness, and pain have taunted me today as I have another "first". 

Someone Else...

Today was a day I wish I was someone else. Someone else besides a baby loss mama. Now, I am not saying I don't want Sam to be my son or have a different baby alive. One single, tenth of a second glimpse, of someone else's happiness of a newborn baby is all it took. I cannot describe the rush of emotions that come to take over my body when a trigger occurs. I sound like I am talking about drugs here. The emotions are overwhelming and controlling. Coming from a control freak, I have to admit these emotions put me powerless. There is one thing that I have been forced to learn after loosing Sam, I have control over nothing! This has been a hard pill to swallow. I don't believe I am equip to handle being who I am; but, I have no choice. I have been given this life and all of the hardships that come with it and there is not a person in the world that can change it or take it away.

Do I wish I was someone else, yes. I don't wish it was ever me that lost my baby. I want to be the one loving on my new baby boy. I want to be the one complaining how hard it is with two kids. I want to be the one taking those cute pictures of Michalina with her little brother. I want to be the one smiling when Michalina plays mommy to her brother. Call it jealousy, call it what you will. I call this love. A love that my son has left me with. I call this an aching desire to be with my ENTIRE family again.

I was always the person that said, "God will never give you more than you can handle." Ha, I laugh at this now. Who would have ever guessed that I would be the one that gets sucker punched in the gut? The cautious one that always took risks only to the point of comfort; I took them far enough, never too far. Who is equipped to bury their child? No one!

Other people's happiness brings sadness. A believer in God means the unthinkable happens; the ultimate test of faith. I don't know if I will pass the test.

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!

Rough Day Strikes Again.

Today was rough. I hadn’t had a rough day in a while. I’ve had rough moments, but I always, somehow manage to regain my footing. Today the sadness has just kept close to me today. Just when I thought I was pulling out, sadness struck again today.

My darkness today started with a light. This light was so beautiful that it brought a smile to my face and warmth in my heart. However, that shining light was quickly followed by guilt. The guilt was so heavy that it was hard to breath. A friend created her status on facebook for a protest and remembrance of babyloss. This friend, to my knowledge, had not experienced babyloss expect for Sam. This public protest against the taboo of stillbirths/babyloss was so heart warming to me it brought guilt. (Now, I don’t want her to feel that she shouldn’t have done this because I feel the exact opposite-I couldn’t be more proud.) But there was guilt that swarmed around my head. The guilt filled me because I see it as because of me she had to fester that type of courage; she would have never have had to do that if it weren’t for me. I was informed that a few other people put this on their status and that makes me smile. Smile, because the shroud is slowly lifting from the faces of the babyloss community.

Then I get another baby announcement/baptism invite in the mail today. This is the second one from close family that I have gotten since Sam was born. I have to say it…are people really that stupid? It doesn’t bother Lucas like it bothers me. He sees it as just another announcement or invite. I, on the other hand, see it as a slap in the face that someone else got to walk out of the hospital with their head held high, a smile on the face, and joy and love overflowing their hearts. What did I get? I got to walk out of the hospital with a white box with a purple ribbon on it and my son’s hospital hat and blanket inside. I got to leave shattered and broken, ever to be pieced back together again; forever, broken and un-whole; always missing a piece of my life, my heart. I know that these people mean nothing by their efforts of sharing their joy. But, come on, seriously, think about how that might make a babyloss mother feel.

Third, I went to a mall that I was last at pregnant. I remember being there and thinking about Sam’s arrival; shopping with Michalina in tow. Raiding the Carters clearance rack for the cute little baby boy clothes, searching for the perfect outfit to bring Sam home in. Just being near the stores I was in months earlier were hard for me to swallow.

The sadness. It always manages to find it’s way back into my heart. Missing Sam today more than ever. I want to hold and feel his warm cheeks against mine. Sadness strikes as I prepare for work to come at me full swing. The normalcy makes me shiver with guilt. how am I supposed to go about living a “normal” or “before Sam” life knowing that my baby is gone. I type with tears streaming down my face and think a burrow seems like a great place to retire and never emerge again. I just want to hide and wait for Sam to come and get me.

Today, I ache. The darkness that lurks around the corner daily has filled my day. Sadness is not what it used to be. Sadness is so much more. There are no words that could describe what sadness is to a babyloss mom. Sadness is pain.

Here are a few pictures that we took on our Sam vacation. The book is something I read to Sam every time I visit him.