Monday, November 19, 2012


It's been years. YEARS. Since I've posted here. I like to break up sentences with periods more. I blame facebook. Important thoughts need a period, not a comma. A real freaking pause. So screw grammar. This is how I write. I've been reading though my blog. I do almost every year at this time. But this year I wanted to say something that I can't say on facebook. Mostly because facebook is filled with superficial drather, and because I deactivated it over a week ago and so have no social, creative outlet. Upon reading through those first two years without my son, I am thankful. Not for stupid shit. Not like most of what I read on facebook. I'm thankful I'm sane. I'm thankful I've been able to not just be alive, but to live. I've learned how to fall in love again, have hope again and be excited for the future again. I've done all of that in the last three years. Not without paying for it. That's for sure. I knew what I had was special this time. I know it, and I knew it, and I am grateful for it. I'm grateful for my daughter, for my life, for my annoying dogs, for my old house, for the uncertainty of my future job prospects. I'm thankful I've felt any of it. Because I could hardly feel anything but pain and grief those first few years. And I FELT this. Really felt all of it. And for that, I am thankful. I don't get mad at thankfulness because I don't thing people deserve it. They do. We all deserve a bit of happiness in this life. Recognizing it is good. I get angry because I think that for the majority of people, they don't really get how precious their THANKFULNESS is. I lost that completely once. Not just once, for years. They all just take it for granted and list it off like they didn't have to fight for it. Thankfulness is a feeling in itself that they should be grateful for. Everyone should be thankful for thankfulness first, and for those who have not suffered the loss of a child, thankful that they have their loved ones to share it with on facebook at all. I could be thankful all day to everybody, and the one person I want to thank, my son, is not here. THAT I am NOT thankful for. I don't make apologies. So, be thankful you aren't me if it is too hard for you all to imagine. For those of you going through the worst of it. I'm so sorry, and I hope you are able to someday find your way back into the light of life and to even contemplate thankfulness. That is a huge battle, and I wish you all the strength, love and light I can muster. If you are like me, someone who lost their child at Thanksgiving, then you have an uphill battle. But if I can do it, you can do it. I never thought I could, not once, but I did. (((((((((((((hugs))))))))))) and peace to you.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

All I want for Christmas is you

I've listened to this song about 50 times tonight. I like to think I can sing. I sing it, and it just chokes me up. Seriously. I just blubber to this song :(

I'm just so sad again. It seems like I've noticed so many birthdays in the last couple of weeks, everytime I turn around. My daughter was invited to a party on Saturday, and I just thought, we should be having one of those now and cried.

I've just been in such a funk. Just bone tired. I'm finding it hard to get out of bed again. I have little affect, I"m such a pessimist. My boss said (nicely) that I was 'in a bit of a mood today'. I didn't realize it was so obvious, i do try. I'm just so blue. Everytime I hear a sad Christmas song I cry.

There is just no preparing for these waves of sadness. Life goes on, and I hate life for that.

MISSing my son, Myles, this Christmas and always.

Monday, November 23, 2009

A poem for Myles on his birthday

Born at Rest

Born to the world
Already at rest
Our search for lifes meaning
Is put to the test

Unlike his name
His journey not far
The road Myles traveled
Led right to his star

To walk with his family
And those here on earth
A path not to be
For his miraculous birth

Expressions to ease
Our need for a reason
With words meant to comfort
When too short the season

For tears shed in sorrow
And to eyes that have cried
On the wings of a butterfly
His spirit does glide

Those Myles touched
Should look to their heart
To bring them the peace
That he had to depart

Ever so close
In our mind's eye
His essence you'll find
Never to die

For our dear "Little Myles"
Is beyond our embrace
But etched in our soul
Is his sweet newborn face

Written by Myles' Great Aunt Rosary

Myles 2nd Birthday

The days leading up to these big days are the worst, but after being on this journey for two years, I realize no day is ever how we expect it to be. So I don't know what today will bring. I just know I wish I was planning my son's second birthday.

Losing him sometimes feels like yesterday, and sometimes it feels like a century ago since I held him. The hardest part is remembering my daughter's second birthday. I've been packing and moving and ironically happened upon a bunch of cards from when she turned 2. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember the gifts she received, how big she was, all the things she could say. It hurts that I can't imagine Myles doing any of those things. It hurts that he will forever be only what my imagination will allow, it just feels so inadequate. Trying to picture him doing those things, grasping at what should be today. It makes me frustrated and angry, he should be here. I'd love to hold him and hug him forever and ever and i can't, i want to so badly it hurts

So, we're going to a movie, decorating a cake for him, taking a birthday balloon and decorations to the cemetary. I find myself doting on l/c to make up for the little one I don't have to dote on. Like its another birthday for her. They say your heart expands everytime you have more children. It's so hard having this heart made for two and only having one to give it all to. It's a hole. And today I know that as much as I'm trying to celebrate, as much as I'm trying to make it a special day to remember my son, that really deep down I'm trying to fill a hole that can never be filled. Grasping to give love that I cannot physically express.

I just wish things were different. I wish this time of year was how I had imagined it would be for the rest of my life. My little turkey Myles should be here. And it makes me sad. It makes me wish I could turn back the clock and change something, anything to make it different today. But we get what we get. So I'm going to try to have the most gentle day I can.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Son. I miss you and love you and I am so proud of you and I wish so badly that you were right here so I could make you pancakes and surprise you with balloons and give you all the love I have to give.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Still here . . .

Yep. Still alive. Doing well. Was without internet for about a month so that was not a bad hiatus. Can't say the fally doesn't hit me hard. Partially why I'm here again. I decided some time ago this was my grief blog, and with my divorce and move and new life (even dating) it's not that I don't grieve but it's harder to write about. I'm afraid. I think about that story about grief in a jar, and how you store it and then suddenly, the jar falls off the shelf and you're covered in grief and nobody understands.

So I'm a little covered in grief at the moment. Naturally I find myself back here. Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. I've got a candle lit for Myles now. This Fall I've found myself more raw than I've felt for awhile. It's been tough. I've got a new job, soon I'll have a new home, everything has changed. It's happy and sad and fuck; i'm ambivalent old me.

I've been trying to take it easy as the raw grief has resurfaced. I don't want to let my old bad self take over again. I want to be wiser, understand my limits, worry less about disappointing people than I worry about myself and my maintaing. I've learned that this life isabout knowing your own limits, and keeping the gentle people and distancing from the hurtful people.

Bah. So here I am. And as I've eluded. I'm thinking a blog less about greif and more about my other tribulations needs to happen. So. When it does, I'll let you know. If you have followed my grief blog I'd love for you to join me on the other side on a blog less about grief and more about my life as I find it today. When the time comes you can email me and I'll let you know. I've been longing for that anonymous venue for some time. Today I know I need it.

Remembering our children today and this Fall and just always and forever . . .

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Failing my daughter

My daughter was so excited to become a big sis. She knows she is still a big sis even though her brother died. She takes so much pride in him, sharing him freely with anyone who lets her, she is her brothers keeper and i'm so thankful for that. She has always been my constant reminder of all of the wonderful times we had with her brother, how loved he was, how happy he made us, and how he will never be forgotten.

Still, she wants a living sibling so bad. Her father and I are separated and it is likely we will get divorced eventually, it just hasn't been urgent to file the paperwork at this point.

It seems like at least twice a week, she brings up having another baby or (because she's precocious and knows) she wants me to adopt.

How do I explain to her the complexities of the world? I don't know that I could ever handle a sub preg, i'm not ruling it out because i am 29 and you never know what the future will bring, but it is obvious that this will not happen anytime soon. I also can't explain to her that being a single mom, my options for adoption are limited. I don't have any money for adoption, and I don't know enough about the child welfare system to know if they would allow a single mom to be a foster parent, let alone an adoptive parent. Even if they did, could I handle a child in my current capacity? Could I afford it? Do I have the emotional resources to foster a child? And if we did take that route, that child may not be with us forever, so I would be creating an attachment that could inevitably end in another loss (not the same, but i see parallels).

My daughter is almost six, her brother and her would be four years apart. It feels like time is ticking away and i'm losing any chance i had at giving my daughter the experience of having a living sibling. I certainly can't tell her, well maybe when you're older or I get remarried (bah, never want to get remarried!) or whatever. That's too much for her to understand, and I would never ever want to ever promise her a sibling ever again. That's what happened the first time and here we are.

I usually just find myself, each time she asks, just disappointing her all over again. That's what it feels like anyway. All I can say is that I don't know. That it might just be me and her, and that I'm so happy I have her in my life. She is all I need, not all I ever wanted, but she makes up what remains of my heart.

I know that many only children (i hate saying that, she is not my only child!) would have liked to have a sibling, and they are fine being the only child. It just seems doubly unfair though that she SHOULDN'T be an only child. That she had and has a little brother, yet she has very few of the experiences most children have and she perhaps will never know the love (and all the other stuff) that is a part of having a living sibling.

This has been my biggest turmoil since the moment the nurse couldn't find the heartbeat. How could I tell my daughter? As my marriage eroded, i've still grasped at any conceivable chance that maybe, just maybe I could somehow be a mommy to a rainbow baby. I don't know that I'll ever be there. And that is okay for me I've accepted that, but I feel like I'm failing her everytime she asks for a sibling.

Anyway, I know there aren't any answers really. It just feels like I need to get this off of my chest. How could I fail both my children so fully? How can I keep failing her? How can I possibly just tell her, life isn't fair? 'I don't know' seems like such an inadequate answer to her pleas. She deserves so much more

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Out of the funk, then back in again

I was such an insomniac for so long, I don't really remember having any bad dreams in the beginning. Maybe I've forgotten them. I dreamed that Myles wasn't dead, that it was all a mistake. That was a good dream, waking up was awful.

Having said that, I had an awful dream two nights ago. So bad I'm still trying to shake it. I dreamt that I was pregnant and had to have a c-sec (i've never had one before). My baby died, but it wasn't Myles, it was the next baby. I'm not pregnant or planning on ttc anytime soon. But there I was. And I remember trying to hide the fact that my baby had died. That I had even been pregnant. I didn't want to tell anybody. It was awful. It was like proof that there was something wrong with me, and I was so ashamed.

So that, and the assassination of Dr. Tiller both have me feeling sad and shaken. All of those women, enduring the worst time of their life, making the hardest choices they've ever had to make, and now the only person they could turn to is gone. Pro-life my ass. This man has helped and saved the lives of so many women. He will be missed by so many people in so many ways.

The abortion debate is front and center as a result it seems, and I can't help but feel stepped on by both sides. There is a way to promote womens' choices without devaluing the love and pain women like me feel. I know it.