Am I okay?

Somedays, I truly wonder if I will ever really be "okay".  Even in life's happy moments, my mind whispers to my heart and reminds it of the sorrow we have faced.  I am not completely present in these moments for I feel guilty knowing the moment is incomplete without my boys.

I went to see a dear friend's newborn son the other day. I could not even bring myself to touch him.  The last newborn I held and kissed was my own, my sweet Holden.  I almost feel like my arms are sacred space reserved for another of my own if that is where our path leads.  Even when empty, my arms feel heavy with the weight they do not hold. These are struggles I never imagined I would face and only those who have walked this path can truly understand.  

I am not going to lie, the last couple of weeks have been heavy on my heart.  I should be getting ready for Holden's first holiday season.  Instead, I am ordering angel ornaments for Ricky and Holden knowing that Christmas morning will bring a new wave of emotions.  I feel myself slipping into survival mode again and yet I know I must face this new challenge no matter how heart wrenching it may be.  I need to see how beautiful life is again.  I need to see the good that is out there.  I need to trust that God will lead me in the right direction as long as I continue to trust in His ways.  I need to know that we will be "okay". 

Tonight, Harper came to me with a simple note.   It read " Dear Mom, I love you" with a heart on it.  The look of pure love and joy on her face as she handed it to me took my breath away.  How could I not see how beautifully perfect our life is.  Even with all the pain, we are so blessed. My boys have given me some of the greatest gifts.  They have opened our hearts to a love not known by many and awakened an awareness inside me that was dormant for too long.  I am not saying our life is all "rainbows and sunshine" but there is a definite shift in the way life is played out among these walls.  As I looked at this beautiful five year old creature for which I helped create, I felt my heart swoon knowing she was mine.  She was a gift given to me when I wasn't aware I needed it.  She is beautifully imperfect and quirky, sensitive and clumsy, mischevious and wild.  Her baby pictures look the most like Holden.  I see Holden in her face and I tell her that all the time.  It makes her so happy  and I imagine they would have been close.  I wish I could have seen that.

I know we will never be "okay" like we were before but it will all work out in the end.  It might just be a bumpy ride getting there.  Even once there, I know new paths will arise but as long as we have each other, we will be alright.   I feel richer in life having been blessed with my boys even though they were not meant to be here with us.  It is a bittersweet life we must live but our blessings are many.  We will just be our own version of "okay" and that is okay with me.

The Saddest Person in the House

A couple weeks after Holden was born into Heaven, my seven year old came to me with a profound observation.  Her statement took my breath away and pushed my already broken heart down deeper than it had ever been before.  She looked at me with her big, brown eyes and said,"Mommy, you're the saddest person in the house."  Those words held so much power.  In those eight words, she expressed her concern, her sadness and her plea to get her old Mommy back.  How did I get to this point?  I was trying so hard to be strong in front of the kids but that's the problem; we never give them enough credit.  Children see more than we think.  Their minds are not bogged down with schedules and tasks that need to get done.  They live in the moment and, therefore, see life in real time.  They are in tune to the emotions that surround them.  They feed off the environment they are in.  With my uninhibited sadness out in the open, I saw this beautiful little version of me become more sullen and death obsessed.   It was my wake up call.  How could I grieve my son's death and still be present for my earthly trio?  Part of me just wanted to go hide and hope it was all fixed by the time I emerged.  I didn't like myself.  I was weak and useless.   On top of the physical pain I was dealing with, the emotions I felt were so overwhelmingly achy.  I was exhausted.  I relied on others immensely those first weeks and it bothered me that I was so helpless.  I hated who I was and how horrible of a mother I was being.  I was walking a thin line trying to parent my earthly trio while still parenting my angels.  It is a conflict no parent should face and yet here I was right in the middle, an emotional shell of who I once was. 
 

I took a hard look at myself to make the changes I needed to.  I had to expose my weakness and accept it.  However, I did not want to overshadow my grief.  I wanted my children to see that it is okay to be sad at times; that it is okay to cry and talk about their brothers.  I had so many people tell that I am strong which is hard to accept when you feel so weak.  I am not strong, I would say.  I am just surviving the only way I know how.  In the first weeks, it is easy to focus only on your pain but then life creeps right back in and you have no choice but to move forward.  Moving forward for us meant accepting this new life.  My children no longer have the innocence they possessed before.  They have an intimate relationship with death now and their already strong faith has blossomed.  All our lives have changed.  We have all taken turns being the saddest person in the house.  I asked Brynly if she thought I was still sad.  She told me "sometimes but not all the time."  I asked if she knew it was okay to be sad.  She said yes but she knows that her brothers will always be in her heart.   She said this with love in her eyes and a smile upon her face.  I guess out of the darkness we have discovered the true power of our love and how it possesses no boundaries.  Granted, we are not perfect and this will be a lifelong experience but I can't help but feel richer having seen what our love is capable of.  Ricky and Holden have given us that and continue to do so with every tear we shed and every kiss we send. 

The Illusionist

My smiles used to come easy.  I could be in the moment and not have lingering thoughts about my boys distract me.  I used to go through life naive to what tragedies could truly happen.  I was happy, truly happy.  Bill and I kept saying how lucky we were.  Granted, we had some difficult moments but we were truly blessed in all we had.  We took life for granted being oblivious to the fact that sometimes when things seem to be going good all the time, something bad always happens.  Then Valentines Day 2012 came around.  Newly pregnant,  nervous about a small bleed, Bill and I walked into the ultrasound room expecting to see our baby dance around on the screen.  We had tried for almost a year to get pregnant.  We wanted this baby so badly knowing how amazing being a parent was.  I was so excited to calm my fears by seeing my little bean.  No heartbeat seen...I am going to call the doctor...I am so sorry.  Our lives changed in that moment.  Why were we being punished?  I thought we were good people.  How am I going to tell the girls?  I learned how to function with grief.  I learned when and where you could let your emotions slip.  Bill and I both feel that Ricky gave us Lydon and prepared us for Holden.  In his short time on this earth, he gave us some powerful gifts.  That is a lot to carry every day.

 

I dealt with my grief for 2.5 years only to have that scab ripped wide open when Holden was born.  The pain was way too familiar and I really wondered how I was going to go back to life after feeling like it ended.  I was tormented every day with trying to be present but allowing myself to grieve.  Those who saw me in the early weeks saw me at my worst.  Those who have seen me after really only see the me I allow them to see.

 

I am not the woman I was before.  You may see me laugh and smile and be my goofy self but even in those moments I feel pain, I feel quilt.  How could I be happy when I know that I have two babies in Heaven?  If I seem too happy, will people think I am heartless? When I meet someone new, I am mentally preparing myself for the moment when they ask if I have kids.  Do I tell them the truth?  Am I emotionally strong enough in this moment to handle that conversation?  I struggle with these thoughts daily.  Those who have been in my shoes understand.  Some may still be in the midst of it; some may have found ways to cope with it.   I am still learning. 

 

On top of trying to cope with life, I am trying to be a good parent.  I think there is a misconception that after a loss, us angel parents become amazing, perfect parents who relish every moment with our earthly children.  That couldn't be farther from the truth.  Yes, I cherish my moments with my kids more than I did before but this agonizing sadness has weakened me.  I still get frustrated.  I still yell and then feel guilty.  I still find myself getting overwhelmed and not looking at the bigger picture.  Thing is, I need to be a parent all while tending to my own needs which have drastically increased.   I do not have the luxury of stopping life to focus 100% on me.  There are three little blessings that are relying on me to get it together and care for them.  Without my husband by my side, I never would be able to do it.  On top of dealing with my own grief, there is the sadness that my husband and children carry.  Life right now is a roller coaster with no stopping point seen.  I believe one thing we have accomplished out of all this is that we are more aware of making sure each one of us knows how truly loved they are.  

 

I feel like I am able to function the best I possibly can with the cards I have been dealt.  I honestly could not have gotten to this point without all the love and support that surrounds me.  I try to remember all the good I have seen come out of this and know that I am a small part of it.  It warms my heart to know that my sadness has brought awareness and understanding that loss is felt for an eternity.  My life may be somewhat of an illusion at times but eventually the curtains will be drawn and all will be revealed.   It comes with strength which I find more of every day.   

Why I Write

Some of you may wonder why I am so open about my grief.  Some may wonder how I can be so strong.  Some of you may also wonder when will I ever stop talking.  Truth is, I have no choice.  I did not chose this life, it was given to me.  No matter how hard I tried to resist, I had to embrace this new life.  To deny it meant to deny my sons.
 

Imagine a love deeper than any love felt before.  Imagine that the very thought of someone makes your heart sing and weep at the same time.  Imagine a love so boundless that it seeps from your very being.  Now, imagine as if you do not have that very person physically here to express that love unto.  Imagine how earth shattering it feels to know that your love can only travel to where they are, you must wait a lifetime to hold them again.  This is why I write.
 

I write to get my pain out.  I write to get the overwhelming love and sadness on paper so I can make sense of it all.  What a conflicted wave of emotions feeling pride and pain all wrapped in a strange package sealed with love.  My heart aches to think of my boys and yet it swoons to know that I have been blessed with such a love that can be felt all the way to the Heavens.  Such a tragic blessing to be an Angel Momma.  This is why I write.
 

I now know the amazing strength it takes to face each day knowing you are no longer the person you were before.  In a way, I feel wiser, more alert to the world around me.  In other ways, I feel aged as if my grief has stolen years from me.  I am still learning this balance between being present and letting myself dream.  I try not to allow my grief to sneak into my time with my earthly trio but it is a very delicate dance and sometimes I must tango with my demons.  This is why I write.
 

With each word I write, my grief transforms into hope and courage.  I feel myself become stronger with each story I tell.  It is the story of my life and I cannot stay silent for my words are saturated with memories of my sweet boys.  This is why I write.