a year

A year has come and gone. I have survived a year without your kisses, without nuzzling the sweet smell of your neck. A year of not watching you grow and progress and learn about your world. A year has gone and I only picked one outfit for you my angel. A year has come and gone without you getting into your big brothers things. A year has passed and I didn't get to pick out a cake for you to smash your fingers in and shmear all over your face. I have missed so much in this last year. I have missed you every moment of every day. But in your memory I have found strength. The strength to get up and face each and every day and face a world where you are not. I have found the strength to foster your big brothers love for you, and cry with him every time he crys about missing you and wishing you could have come home with us and not gone to heaven. I have found the strength to answer your big brothers never ending questions about death and heaven and you. I have found the strength to answer the question "how many children do you have?" proudly with "2 boys". I have found the strength to let go and cry and wail and scream at God when I need to. I have found the strength to be supportive of other mothers who have angel babies. I have found the strength to talk about you whenever I want no matter who is around or if it makes them uncomfortable.

I have not found the strength to lose the weight I want to lose in order for us to try for another baby. I have not found an answer for why you were taken from me. I don't think I ever will. Not until I get to you and finally have you in my arms. Maybe then I will have the understanding.

I can't believe it's been a year. It seems like just a moment has passed, then other times it feels like an eternity.

I know that I will continue forward. For you. For your brother. For your Daddy. And so you will be proud of your mama.

Time

It's getting closer and closer to Caydens birthday. Closer and closer to the time his sweet wonderful soul entered my life. I knew to expect my emotions to run high, but I had NO idea it would be so soul crushing again. The sadness is washing over me, making it hard to breath. The slightest mention of his name, glance at the calendar, view of a butterfly can drop me to my knees. My heart feels layed open. I miss you so much Cayden. I love you. I love you . I love you. Please give me the strength to make it through this next week with some grace.

idiot

I ran into a woman I know tonight at a fund raiser thing. I have never really liked this woman, she has always annoyed me. Most things she does and says are annoying. Tonight she took the cake. I haven't seen her since I lost Cayden. Tell the truth I don't know if she ever even sent me an email or anything about it, I can only assume NOT. So tonight I swear to all that is holy and un holy she ran down the damned list of what NOT to say, not ever ever ever say, to someone who has lost a baby. I tried like hell to be kind, to be charitable, to redirect her, to correct her and finally I looked desperately for an escape and I bailed on her. I really don't care if I EVER talk to her again in my life. Here is what I can think of that she said:
1. It was probably for the best. To which I replied........uhhh no I don't agree with that.
2. Was IT (OMG she called him IT) stillborn? NO
3. She ran over me after that question to say was he born to early? Is that why he was stillborn?
and again.......NO. He wasn't stillborn. His name was Cayden. I had him at 32 weeks and he lived for 3 days.
3. Well he probably would have suffered if he had lived. I said Well, I guess we'll never know will we? Now we just suffer and miss him.
4. So what happened to him? He had a malformed vein in his head that burst.....and again she talked all over me.......OH so if he had lived this could have happened to him when he was 5, and how horrible would that be? To lose a 5 year old? I said nothing. By this time it's taking everything I have to not punch her in her stupid face.
5. I have a friend whose son just died of cancer. He was 27. Can you imagine how hard it would be to lose a child at 27? My reply is a look of shock mixed with disgust.
6. I have another friend who had a molar pregnancy, well, she just had her first baby and OMG is he cute, but anyway first she had this molar pregnancy and when she went in for her first ultrasound there was no heartbeat. Can you imagine? How sad. At this point I said "ohhhh I have to go" and I made a bee line for safer people.
I am in utter utter shock. It was like she was reading from the list of what not to say. I have had lots and lots of people say things that are really stupid, unkind even, but mainly stupid. I give them the benefit of the doubt. I mean I can't fault everyone for not knowing what to say to me, and I know most people are coming from a decent spot. Floundering to say something, anything to take the look of pain from my face, to stop the tears that well up. But this was just over the top. I sit here tonight in shock. Absolute shock.

impending

I can feel it coming. I feel like I am standing on the tracks and the train is coming. Caydens birthday is 2 1/2 weeks away. The day he left me is 3 short days after. I am starting to relive every moment I had with him last year this time. What I was doing, what I was feeling, how desperately I was holding on to hope. We have decided to take a family hike on the 8th, his angelversary. I am not a hiker, couldn't be further from being healthy and in shape, but I think it will be good for us, and for me. I want it to feel like a step forward, a reclaiming sort of thing. I want so badly to be on the road to health and less weight, so that I can begin trying for our 3rd child. The baby that as Murray puts is "doesn't have to go to heaven, but gets to come home and live with us". So perhaps a hike on this day will be a good step off? I don't know. I feel like I'm reaching, grasping at straws. We have nothing planned for his birthday and that is starting to terrify me. So many people have thrown big parties, done big celebrations etc. That doesn't feel right, but I have to do something. I need to find a way to celebrate the day he was born. Because that day was a beautiful day. My son was born. My beautiful son Cayden WAS born. So what to do? How to celebrate? I am afraid the urge to lay in bed all day and cry will be overwhelming.
Do any of you have any ideas? Please share if you do.

11 months

My Cayden. 11 months ago today you came forth into this world to touch my heart, my soul and change me forever. I wish I knew, I wish I could really see and know who I have and am becoming. I know from the moment the doctor first told me that there was something terribly wrong I changed. I would never again be the woman, the mother, the person I was. There isn't a soul that has ever lived with the knowledge of her childs impending doom that hasn't changed, almost on a cellular level. I feel like everything, every single thing I ever knew or though I knew changed in that moment. So that's established. I'm changed. I'm different. But when will I KNOW who this new me is? Will I ever know this woman I am like I knew the woman I was? Will I like who I am? Right now, I don't. In fact I don't really even really like the woman I was. When I was that woman I liked me, but now I don't like her. So what is that? Will I have to go through this entire life I have in front of me without you not liking myself? Not liking who I am?
Oh Cayden, I looked at your photo tonight for the longest time. You were so handsome. So wonderful. I know that the doctor said you weren't really there, but I knew then and it was reaffirmed for me tonight. You were there. You looked into my eyes. You knew, and God please tell me that you still know how very much I love you. Every thing I do now I do for your memory and for your big brother. Everything. Always.

MOTHER!!!!

My dear cousin and his wife have been trying to get pregnant for a couple years now. They have struggled greatly. They are now about to embark on IVF with a donor egg. I have all my fingers and toes crossed for them and am praying and hoping as hard as I can that they will be finally blessed with a child. So my mother and I were driving and she pops off with "I want it more for them than I do for you". OMG OMG OMG. When I looked at her with the shock I was feeling she simply said "don't get upset with me, you have Murray and I want them to have a chance at a child". All I could come up with was "I don't think this is the sort of thing that has to be gauged". I know I shouldn't be surprised at this and after chewing it over and hashing it out with my sister in law, I know she is approaching this from a position of fear. She is fearful of me having to face the sort of pain I faced and continue to face after losing Cayden. She would rather me just stop and not risk it. But f*ck, come on Mom, if you are going to chose teams...........shouldn't it be MY TEAM? And so much more to the point.........this is not something that a team has to be chosen for. Oh I love you Mom, but honestly, that really hurt.

exhaustion

I have been beating myself up for months. Beating myself up for sooo many things and so many reasons I would be here for weeks if I were to begin listing them all. But the thing that I think I might finally have gotten some clarity about is my being so tired. I am tired all the time. Not just sleepy, or lazy tired, which is what I have been beating myself up for, but bone weary exhausted sort of tired. I have been trying to catch up on some of the blogs I follow of other mothers with broken hearts and I am finding yet another common thread. We are all so tired. I have been laying here tonight thinking about it. I feel from time to time that I am doing well, that I am making my way in this new life of a broken heart, but obviously there is a price to pay for that. It takes every ounce of my energy to get through my days with a semi smile, going through the motions of my life, forcing myself to connect with my family and friends when all the while I would like to just lay in bed and sleep and cry or sob in turns. I suppose if I were to give in and let myself curl into the fetal position that my soul is pulling me into every moment of every day I would still be just as damned tired. At least this way my sons, both Murray and Cayden will be able to look at me, from across the room or down from the heavens and know I am trying, but holy hell it's wearing me out.