I'm sure so many of you have been touched by Lea from Nicholas' Touch and Angel Wings Memorial Boutique. She sent me hand crafted Angel Wings shortly after I lost Cayden and we have remained in touch. She lives soo far from me, but always seems to know just when I need to hear from her and her words are always like a salve to my wounded soul. A few days ago, I had just had a difficult day. My mother and sister in law and I had just, and I mean just, came back from visiting my friend with the 2 month old little boy. The one who was a tiny little premie, from an older big mother like myself, who shares the same doctor and hospital as Cayden and I. These visits are sooo hard. I try to steel myself and be cheerful and happy and look at her son and talk to him, but both times I have seen him I come home defeated, depressed and just exhausted. I sat in the car in front of my house rehashing the visit and crying. I grabbed the mail when I got out of the car...........and there it was, Lea had sent me some wonderful little yellow butterflies, because they made her think of Cayden and I. So really, honestly they came at the perfect time. I truly want to take a page out of Leas book and think of others more than I think of my own pain. The simple fact that she, in the midst of her busy life (made harder by the beating of a mothers heart who has lost her son) thought of me, and acted on her thoughts.......there is good in this world. You give me hope.
I sooo want to be trying to get pregnant again right this damned minute. Doctor said we could start trying in February. Doctor said my weight had nothing to do with what happened to Cayden. Heart and soul scream a different story. I feel I need to lose a good 60 lbs before I will feel comfortable trying again. I am 40 years old. Time is a wasting. Waist is not shrinking. Of course it isn't going to unless I actually DO something about it. I keep telling myself when my taxes come in I will get a membership to a fitness club here. But the problem is I have a stationery bike in my basement. A good one. I have punches to go to the rec center and do pilates. The weather is getting nicer and nicer here and I could easily walk. BUT I AM DOING NOTHING!!! What gives? Where is my inner strength?
I can't put my finger on it, but something new has been happening to me. Back story........I have been winding up and up and up with the stress level lately. Eric isn't working much, my unemployment is quickly drying up with no job prospects on the horizon and our cobra health insurance has ended. We are behind in just about every bill possible, haven't even started to consider paying for all the medical bills we racked up last year. It's beginning to wear on me in a big way. X~an~ax is becoming a needed daily weapon, not just a safety blanket in my purse. So yeah, there is all that. And I have found that stress and strong emotions throw the door to grief wide open. So the relative control I thought I had is eluding me. The thing that struck me tonight as I thought about my last few days is how addicted I am to Murray. I find myself highly HIGHLY critical of other children. I compare them all to my perfect little man. When he isn't with me, which is honestly really rare, I ache for him. And not the normal ache of a mom missing her clever 3, soon to be 4 year old. It's big. I feel panicky without him. I think about all the funny, endearing, silly things he says and does. I walked through the grocery store and see the fruit leather he loves, the donuts he loves and I get this mix of panic and need and giant lovey feelings for him. All I know is somehow, someway I need to get a handle on this. It's freaking me out.
I am moving through this life. I have somehow survived the death of my son. I get up everyday now and live. I smile. I laugh. I love. I am living. How can this be? How can I live without him? It seems so strange to me to think that somehow I am finding a way to survive this pain. Somehow I go on with my life even though it feels I have only half my heart, half my soul. The other half of me clearly belongs to Murray and that must be the only way I have come this far. I am fearing more and more getting farther and farther away from the time I had with Cayden. I know I have to continue on, and just like I tell Murray live a long and happy life and be an old old woman before I can go to heaven and be with Cayden, but will he still be waiting for me? People told me that the horrendous spells of soul tearing grief would gradually get less strong and less frequent. I didn't believe it could be so. But seemingly it is true. I can sit here and think of him in the quiet of the night and if I open the door to it, the grief comes gushing in like a river. It baffles me then, that the pain and sadness that is sooo great, so damned huge, can be quelled and I can live a seemingly normal daily life? How does this work? How does my heart lock up the pain so I can do what must be done? I don't get it. I really don't. I know that it's fast approaching 8 months since we said hello and goodbye. At 8 months he will have been gone as long as he was with me. And then the scales tip the other way. I hope my heart is ready for that.
Go ahead and mention my child, The one that died, you know. Don't worry about hurting me further. The depth of my pain doesn't show. Don't worry about making me cry. I'm already crying inside. Help me to heal by releasing the tears that I try to hide. I'm hurt when you just keep silent, Pretending she didn't exist. I'd rather you mention my child, Knowing that she has been missed. You asked me how I was doing. I say "pretty good" or "fine". But healing is something ongoing I feel it will take a lifetime. ~ Elizabeth Dent ~
I am 40, married to Eric the most amazing man since '06 (although we have been together since '98. I have 2 step sons Devon 15 and Riley 12 and my amazingly wonderful son Murray 3 and my angel baby boy Cayden who slipped from my arms to Gods in August '09.