Community

in 2011, i had the honor of meeting a few other BLMs when i made my way up to MN. it was an incredible trip - therapeutic, emotional, relaxing, necessary. i had time to meet some the women who had become part my biggest support system since losing Julius.

last weekend, i got a chance to make another similar trip. my rainbow and i made our way to IL to meet several other BLMs and their rainbows. and it was...awesome! i think in total 14 moms (a few dads) and 14 rainbows were in attendence in person (plus our babies that we carried with us in our hearts - the ones that brought us together). and while i didn't know all of the BLMs that were there before the trip, it was still great to just meet them and their rainbows.

it was inspirational to see so many women who have survived the unimaginable. it was wonderful to be able to share my son with people and not fear that i was making them feel uncomfortable. and when i cried (because of course there was crying done by me), no one tried to get me to stop, or spouted out some useless platitude. they let me cry, they brought me tissues, they cried with me.

and those rainbows!!! wow. how those babies were loved and adored by all this weekend! the amount of love that was in that house...well, i'm surprised the house didn't implode in on itself. everyone was just so wonderful with my rainbow, and showed her so much love and affection. it warmed my heart. she usually has to warm up to strangers, but i think even she realized that these women weren't "strangers". i think she knew that these women knew me/my heart, and that they have helped me survive. seriously, i'm not sure how i would have managed the last 2.5 years without their comments, emails, messages, cards, etc.

i'm thankful. i wish i never had to meet those women the way that we did. i wish we all had our babies in our arms. but i appreciate every single one of them that made it last weekend. i appreciate their rainbows because they have brought some happiness into, not only their parents' lives again, but also mine. i appreciate their babies that were not able to be there with us in person, because they led me to their mommas. and i appreciate those BLMs/people who weren't able to be there, for whatever reason, but have shown me support, love, and comfort in the days since losing Julius. living without Julius is the hardest thing i am currently doing, but i'm thankful i have this community walking with me.

 

Happy 3rd Birthday!

Dear Julius,

Today is your 3rd birthday. 3 years ago, I looked into your eyes for the first time. 3 year ago, my life changed drastically. 3 years ago, I was the happiest I had ever been in my life. Unbeknowst to me you were the missing piece of my puzzle.

It's so hard to live through a May 30th without you. This day, made special for you, should be celebrated by you. You should be here with us opening presents, eating too many sweets, and getting showered with love and affection.

I don't know why you aren't here with us. I don't know how I've survived this long without you. I don't know how I'm going to survive the rest of my life without you. But what I do know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is that I love you today more than I ever thought I could. I miss you today more than I ever thought I could. And that will never change.

I try to keep today about happiness, because that is what you brought into our lives. I'm not sure if what I have planned today is something you would have liked to do. I always struggle to plan your special day because you are no longer here to celebrate. Please know that whatever we decide to do, be it big or low-key, is done with you at the center of our minds and hearts. And that will never change.

You are forever mine. I am forever yours. And that will never change.

Loving you always,
Mommy

another may

it's been a while since i've written, and honestly, it's because i've been too overwhelmed by my emotions that i decided the best thing to do was not to acknowledge them. but that only gets you so far. and before i knew it, a minor argument with my hubby about something so trivial ended with me sobbing in bed asking the universe why it saw fit to take my son from me. so yea, that was my clue that it was about time to write...

we are almost through another may. the month of my son's birth. he would be turning 3 this year. it's hard for me to imagine the 3 year old he would have been. no doubt, he would have been the most beautiful 3 year old i would have ever laid my eyes on. but i wonder what his personality would have been like. watching his sister's personality develop is so very bittersweet. because in my heart i know he was my mellow, obedient, loving child. but i never got to see how it unfolded. i will never get to see all of those "quirks" that would have made him him. it's hard to reconcile that fact in my mind. after all this time, it's still hard to believe he is gone.

this year to celebrate Julius' birthday, we will be spending the day as a family. we plan to take baby girl to the zoo, and don our Julius the monkey gear. there will be some type of sweet treat, though i haven't really decided that yet. it's always so hard to plan how to celebrate the birthday of your child that is no longer with you. this will be my 3rd without him, and it hasn't gotten any easier. actually nothing about grieving his loss has gotten easier other than my ability to "fake it" in public. the pain is still as deep and profound, the longing still as intense. grieving your child is a lifelong process for sure.

in addition to dealing with all of the feelings surrounding Julius' birthday, i had to deal with mother's day. i still dread that day even though our baby girl is here. luckily we were at a cookout to celebrate someone's graduation from college, so i wasn't too focused on what day it was. and only had to deal with one comment/question about it being my 1st mother's day. on the whole the day wasn't too bad.

and as if those 2 events weren't enough, we also moved this month. we moved from our 1st house - the house that has been there for us through the birth of both of our children, and the death of our son. the house that has seen us at our absolute worst, and has sheltered and protected us. we had that house built, and picked out the colors of everything. it was my personal sanctuary, and i was very attached to it. but in the end, we had to move. it's really hard to think about the fact that i won't have memories of Julius alive in our new place. i know he is still with us, but it's different. and that difference makes it so painfully hard to bear.

our rainbow

i don't write about our rainbow much on this blog. this is a space i dedicate mostly to Julius. this blog was started for Julius to document my pregnancy journey with him, and then it became a place to grieve for him. while baby girl is most definitely part of that process now, i just needed to keep her journey separate.

but i always wonder how the death of her brother that she never had the privilege of meeting will affect her. Julius' presence is all over the house. his pictures are out, his urn sits on our dresser. and daily i continue my ritual of giving it a kiss before i leave for work.

when she was just a few months old, i stopped by the dresser while holding her, and let her stare at his picture/urn. as i turned to walk away, she started wailing. i didn't understand why she was suddenly crying, and so i walked back to the dresser. she stopped and stared. after a few seconds, i walked away again, and the same thing happened. so i walked back. and again she was quiet. this happened 1 more time before i burst into tears myself. it made me wonder what it was that she was thinking. it made me hopeful that Julius was present somehow, someway.

since that time, there really hasn't been much acknowledgement from her of her brother, not that i thought there should be as she's still too young. but a few weeks ago, while we were all in our room, she took her paci out of her mouth, and walked toward the dresser with puckered lips. she wanted to give him a kiss. it made my heart explode. she has puckered her lips to give him a kiss pretty much every day since.

she is so incredibly loving. make no mistake, she's a passionate, talkative, opinionated little girl. but her heart is so full of love. she is very attached to her parents. she's got an amazing sense of humor. she loves popping out of things/hiding under things and scaring people. she loves bubbles. she loves sesame street, and eating out of her parents' plates. she looks more like her brother every day, though i know their personalities are opposite. i'm sure she would be the one getting big brother in trouble if she had been given the chance. and just like i felt with her brother, looking into her face and holding her makes all of my superficial troubles go away. she continues to fill my heart with love. she's amazing. she's the perfect gift from him.

life these days...

...is busy, is stressful, is full of grieve and longing and deep deep love.

i've started writing this post several times in my head. i feel like a broken record most days. our rainbow celebrated her 1st birthday not too long ago. it was an amazingly bittersweet day. one that i was not convinced i would get to see. it was a quiet celebration. my sister and her boyfriend came over. we had lunch, cake, and watched her open presents. we lit a candle for her big brother who could not be there with us.

even as time continues to move forward at lightening speed, i know a piece of me is always stuck in october 12, 2010. grieving a child is a life sentence. i go through the daily motions - send the work emails, do the grocery shopping, go to the gym - but i'm never 100% present. i'm only 2 yrs into grieving, and find myself overwhelmed by the thought that this will be what i have to deal with for the rest of my life. it doesn't feel survivable, even when i have survived this far...

triggers triggers everywhere

this morning, i opened my email to find a donation solicitation email with the subject line "Xander stopped breathing..." sent by the March of Dimes (though the sender's name was Jennifer Howse).


before i get on my soapbox, let me start off by saying that i respect MoD as an organization and i'm thankful to them for all of the research they do and support they give to families. i have several dear friends BLMs and non-BLMs that have benefited from the amazing work that MoD has done...

BUT i think that email was tasteless and insensitive. before i even realized it was from MoD, i thought it was from a parent who had recently lost her child, found my information through my blog, and was contacting me for support. my heart skipped a beat. i was immediately taken back to *that* day. the day that MY son stopped breathing. the day that my world shattered around me.

and though i'm happy that "xander" and his family had their "happy ending" as the email goes on to say, my son's story did not. he is gone. i'm broken hearted. and thinking that there was another family that was reaching out to me because they had lost their child, got me immediately emotional. to open that email and realize that they were only requesting a donation made me livid.

i have donated to MoD in the past without any problem. as i said before, i fully support them and their mission. but using that email subject line, in my opinion, to get a certain response from their reader is unacceptable. not everyone is going to have a positive reaction reading that. there are those of us who have lost children, and reading those words are hurtful. and i would think that an organization such as MoD would understand that - not every family has a happy ending, and some of those families are on their distribution list, unfortunately.

i have contacted MoD (by email/FB message), and have explained to them why i found their email hurtful. i know there are some that don't understand why it hurts me as much as it does, and that's ok. i'm not trying to launch an attack on them at all. but it is important for me to stand up for my grief, and to bring this issue to their attention. it helps lessen the pain they've caused me today.

christmas time is here...

it's hard for me to believe that once again it's christmas time. it hasn't really felt that way. the temperature has been on the warmer side, and since we don't watch tv i've avoided all of the christmas commercials. but this year, i have found myself being able to acknowledge the holiday, which is a dramatic difference from the last 2 years. i can actually say "merry christmas" to someone in response without cringing. and i caught myself last week actually singing a christmas song.

we have put up minimal decorations at our house. our rainbow is a bit too mischievous for us to put up an actual tree, and i really didn't have it in me to do it anyway. but D and i did buy a small ornament tree, which we have put up in the living room to display all of the ornaments that we have for Julius. i also decorated his spot on our dresser with garland. and because i didn't want baby girl to miss out on all of the holiday fun, i strung some lights in our bedroom around the doorway. she loves them.

however, just when i was starting to feel that the heavy burden of grief was lifting, and just as i was starting to see the world as a happier/friendlier place, i heard about the horrific shooting on friday. i will never understand this type of senseless violence. and as a person who has lost a child, and has experienced one of the most unnatural things ever, my heart breaks even further to think of those parents who received word of what had happened to their children. their precious, innocent, magical children. i really had to take a step back from reading/listening to the news and updates because it was making me physically ill. it takes me back to those 1st few months of my early grief when the weight of it all was so incredibly suffocating. to have your child taken from you in such a horrific way. i can't comprehend it. but my heart, my thoughts, and my prayers are with those families especially during this holiday season.