Missing Me and Ringing in the New Year

Missing me,

I look at this picture and I remember how joyful I was, I had just gotten my hair done and loved it, I felt beautiful.  I want her back, if you find her can you bring her back to me?  I miss her so much, I want to go back and hug her and tell her you have no idea what your in store for, That within 10 months from now you will be cremating your 1st son, your life will change forever.  I don't know if it's the new year, or realizing that  your 2nd birthday isn't that far away, or that friends who were apart of my life are no longer there.  I went through all the cards I had gotten when you passed away, there were so many wonderful, beautiful comments from so many, and how much they loved me and promised to call or set up play dates with Ab's and I.  Well those phone calls never came.  I had the unique opportunity of speaking to someone and they said, quite bluntly, I might add it's because they look at you and they see your tragedy of losing your son and that's why I/we couldn't be around you, it just made me/us too sad.  Um, don't you think I was/am sad too? I didn't know whether to punch this person or to hug them for their honesty.  We don't forget our children, and we don't have closure, we don't have a peace as to why they died, we have to learn how to live again and no I am not sad all the time, but am I sad? Of course, am I happy? Of course, I am both.  Please stop telling me I have to have closure, closure means closing that chapter of my life and that isnt' something I can do, I held Avery in my arms, I smelt his skin, I wrapped his fingers around mine and peace, yes I have peace in my life, but it doesn't mean I have peace with his death,  I honestly don't know if that will ever exist, and I am always told this from someone who has never lost a child.  My nightmares are back too, so I know that's not helping, every time I close my eyes I keep relieving your birth over and over again.  I feel like I am falling and there is no one to catch me.  I am tired all the time, I am tired of grieving, no-one ever talks about the physical pain you feel when you lose a child as well, your tired, your forgetful, your scattered, your exhausted from the new worries of losing your other child.  You maybe reading this and thinking oh my, she's losing it, no I am not, I am just being honest about grief and the tole it takes on you.  Grief has reared it's ugly head I like to say, it's got a hold of me, so I guess I just have to go with the flow and ride it out, but it sure would be nice to have a friend call and ask me how I am doing, but then again I think maybe it's too exhausting being my friend too, there are so many highs and lows and I am sorry if I sound so depressed and down, but I am.  So tonight we are going to light a candle for my little man because this means another year is passing without you and I know how blessed I am to have Abby in my life and it's a balancing act of "how much do I grieve in front of her?", "how much do I hold back?"   So here comes 2012, I want to embrace it with open arms, but just for one day, I sure would like to have that smile back.

Dear Avery,

I am in a funk, and I don't how to get out of it, I know somehow I will, but this is what grief is, it comes in waves and this one is certainly taking me under.  I miss you so much, there are so many reasons I could list to tell you why I miss you, but you had the best seat in the house, you can read my heart, because that's what you heard for 9 months and you have the best seat in heaven, surrounding us all with love, but I want you here, with me, with us, in my arms.

Miss you my little man, miss you so very much.

Sinking in...

Yesterday was an overall good day, except for a mishap with hair dye!!!  I enjoyed watching Abby opening presents from Santa and the joy in her eyes.  There is still that overwhelming feeling that Avery is not here with us.  There are intense moments of happiness and intense moments of sadness, I feel so isolated in speaking about my loss on facebook now, and maybe it's me, but when I comment on there, there are so little remarks left behind.  I wonder if family and friends think I should be over him now?  Besides Jim, my mom was the only one who had mentioned Avery and how much she missed him, other than that I brought him up and of course Abby wished her little brother was here too. My heart is heavy tonight, I miss him so much.  There is a strength marked behind tears they say and I shed plenty of them late last night, it all sinks in, you are gone, we keep ourselves so busy and then when things quiet down the silence sinks in....and then there's the other part of me, I should still be pregnant and only about 4 months or so to go....I am feeling doubtful about another miracle coming into our lives, but the thought of never holding a live baby in my arms tears me to the core.....  I am hurting and this sucks, there is no way around it, but it sucks.  I don't like this feeling, part of me wants it to go away, part of me wants to fight back at it, the rational side of me knows I need to go through this, I need to actively grieve and what I really need is for you to be here in my arms.  In my mind I want to go back to Marco Drive and just pretend life is normal again, where I painted the beautiful poem upon Abby's wall and visions of your crib in the bedroom across from hers, when I still felt you kick.  I don't want to look at babies in awe and think why me? why me?  I want to celebrate life each and everyday, I want to rejoice and there are moments I do, but my heart aches so.  I want my family and friends just to bring him up, just because...not because I did. 

I don't want to be told everyone handles grief differently from someone who's never lost a child, and I pray they never will. I just want you back, here with me..with us...I want to hear your little cries and coos...I just want you!

Dear Avery.....

Last night I was filled with sadness. My heart, my mind and my arms physically ached for you. So many tell me you are here with me, just look all around and I do feel you, but I want you physically here with me.  I want to feel your skin against mine, I want to smell your baby smell, I want to hear your cries and laughter in excitement.  I long for you in my arms, I long for your hugs.  I keep telling myself this is going to get easier, but the pain still physically brings me to my knees.  There is not a day, a moment when you are not in my heart, my breath, my life. I miss you so much.   You would have been 22 months old this Christmas. I can picture you running out with Abby, hand in hand, her guiding you to the tree and I can see the sparkle in your eyes and the delight of you and Abby opening presents.  I am so sad inside.  I don’t understand why you died, nor will I ever.  Some days, I don’t know how I get out of bed,but I know why I do, because of my beautiful little girl that I have been so blessed with and her pain overwhelms me at times too.  She just came to me yesterday and said, “Mommy, all I want for Christmas is my brother.”  I didn’t think it was possible for my heart to break anymore.  I want to go back to February 10^th, just to hold you again, to breathe you in.  I feel like I am grieving for so many things, friends that use to be in my life that aren't and I know it’s because you died. I have been told that’s all they see when they look at me, the loss of you, well I am sorry, but I can’t go back and if I could I would because going back would mean you will still be alive. I am trying, but the old me is gone, so I mourn for her too.  I look at my smile back then; it’s full of shine, brightness and innocence.  My eyes are not quite as blue. That is all gone since you passed and that doesn’t mean I don’t feel happiness in my heart.  I really do.  Abby’s kisses, her hugs, her excitement for life.  So God if you are listening, I need you more than anything right now because my heart is split in two.  Joy of life and the beauty in my daughter’s eyes, and the heartache and pain of having to cremate a child.  I shouldn’t be dusting your urn, I should be picking up your little trucks and trains strewn all over the floor and God I know that he is your little boy in heaven, but I need him so much more.  I wonder on Christmas day, if anyone will ask about you and what I want more than anything is for someone to say, we miss him too. 

You’re my angel Avery and will always be, and God has enough Angels up there, so won’t you come back home to me?

Love,

Mommy

 

An Unexpected Visit

I had an unexpected visit today from my wonderful friend Darlene.  She stopped by to drop off some Butterflies she had picked up for me.  It put a smile on my face and the best part was her card, and how much she feels blessed to be Avery's Godmother.  That makes my heart sing!!!!   It's getting closer to Christmas and there is both sadness and happiness in my heart.  I can't wait to see Abby's blue eyes light up full of excitement when she comes out Christmas morning to opening her gifts and the sadness of not having her little brother running out with her.  There should be gifts on each side, a set for her, a set for him.  So today I am going to bask in the joy that my friend put in my heart today.  Thank you for sticking by me and allowing me to grieve openly with you, you are appreciated in so many ways.  Avery is also proud of you for being his Godmother and the perfect timing of his hello when you ran into my father, because we know how often my dad goes to a craft store, lol.

My journey of life, raising a beautiful daughter with feet and continuing to keep my son's spirit alive within me each and everyday, and trying to get the courage to talk about Faith Marie.

I have decided to start a blog, I recently went through a horrible ordeal with someone telling me I should stop talking about my son on facebook and I will be honest it ripped me to the core.  So, I will still post here and there on facebook, but I thought why not start a blog that way my friends and family who truely want to hear how I am doing can see it here. 

My journey started 7 years ago when I became pregnant with my beautiful daughter Abby Estelle-Marie, she has brought so much joy, laughter and love to our lives.  Everyone searches for their place in this world and when I had her, I found it.  When Abby was around 1  we found out I was pregnant with our 2nd child, we were overjoyed and elated and I was thinking, "Oh, my I am going to have 2 children under the age of 2!  Shortly after, 8/9 weeks into my pregnancy I miscarried and had to have a d&c.  I remember waking from the anesthesia and crying I want my baby, I want my baby.  I never realized how much of a journey this would be.  I didn't talk alot about my miscarriage I was quiet, kept most of the pain to myself and told myself someday we will try again.  We did and as usual we got pregnant on the 1st try, and miscarried 2 weeks later and was told it was a "chemical" pregnancy, that the egg never took.  I was sad, but was ok, I wasn't discouraged at all.  So we tried again and I told myself over and over this time he or she is going to make it and the pregnancy was going along quite beautifully, morning sickness, happiness.  Then one night during a horrific storm, a power outage and the road I lived on being completely closed because utility wires were down, I miscarried, this tiny, tiny baby.  I remember looking down upon my hands and screaming for Jim, "Jim, this isn't what I think it is, right?"  Although I knew, she was so tiny, tiny hands, feet, eyes, mouth and nose.  We stood there in disbelief trying to hold it together for Abby, to young to understand what was going on.  I couldn't go to the hospital there was no way to get there, what started with joy end with me in the pitch black on my porch crying my eyes out, "this can't be happening again," it just can't. We named her Faith Marie. I still again didn't talk much about this pregnancy with anyone I kept most of it inside and never knew about any support groups on line or off.  I carried the pain with me deep within.  So after miscarrying 3 times, I told Jim we have to fiquire out what is wrong, so we went and saw a fertility specialist and was finally given a diagnosis and told use Lovenox, inject yourself once a day and you will have your miracle.  So, with a lot of thought and prayer we decided to go along this journey of trying again and sure enough we got pregnant on the 1st try.  I was so, so happy, I knew this time, he or she is going to make it.  I remember July 4th, sitting in my daughters playhouse with her, knowing I was pregnant but it was too soon to share the news.  I was smiling from ear to ear.  I did as I was told Lovenox in the belly everyday, faithfully until.....the day my son died.  I remember joking on the way to the doctors appointment that I was going to go into labor because the snow was coming down hard, little did I know how true that would be.  Sitting in the doctors office all 3 of us, overjoyed about bringing a little boy home soon not knowing all the while he was dying inside of me. Avery was to be delivered early, so I was only a week and 1/2 away from my delivery date.  Walking down the hallway into the sonogram room to make sure he was right on schedule, the sonographer started the sonogram and I knew within seconds, I so non-chalantly asked, "is he dead?", now I realize that is what shock is.  The next day, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, we named Avery Michael, 10 fingers, 10 toes, beautiful blue eyes, tiny nose and a lip that curled just like Abby's. (Avery passed because of cord strangulation, the cord was wrapped 3 times around his neck)  This journey has been a a long and painful one.  I have since miscarried twice since Avery passed and just as you may be thinking, are you crazy, "why would you continue to try?", because love is love and I am just a mom who's dreams were to have a housefull of children.  So during the midst of my grieving I started a support group Avery's Butterflies, so for now I have typed enough.  So if your out there, this is my life, my journey through happiness and pain.  I am both happy and sad, and know this is my life, so if you are willing, please share my journey with me.