Lessons Learned

Happy belated Mother's Day to all the Moms out there! I hope that everyone had a great day, working or at home with the family.


My Mother's Day was great, anytime spent with the family is wonderful, although still a little bittersweet for me. My own Mother passed away a few years ago, and my youngest son passed away a year and a half ago. A little deep for this early in the morning? Well, this is something that I was thinking about last night as I did the dishes. (Dishes on Mother's Day you say???...yes, I don't mind and the hubby fixed dinner.) I always think deep thoughts when I wash dishes, it's my meditation time I suppose. I think about my Mother's Day, and everything I have to be so thankful for. I have a wonderful 6 year old son, and a 5 month old daughter, who just recently started sleeping through the night (shhhh, don't say it too loud or she will hear).

Are they not the most precious little munchkins ever!







As I said, I started thinking about all of the wonderful things to be thankful for. When things happen that go against our "plan" for life, we have choices on how to handle it. We can choose to let it destroy us, or choose to rise above and learn from them. Thats what I decided, instead of focusing on the loss in my life, I decided to focus on what I have learned. I can raise my arm and shake my fist at the heavens, but all that does is bring my bingo-wing arm fat directly to eye level, and that just makes me feel worse, so why do it?

I want to share that with you now, what I feel I have learned. As I type this, my two little loves are sleeping soundly, and I am thankful for a few quiet moments this evening.

So, I my Lessons Learned....



I have Learned that People are Precious. Hold them dear.

I once thought that I had checked off enough boxes in the "sorrow" catergory, and that I was fairly untouchable for a while. But no, tragedy struck and my son passed away. I learned a lesson that people are precious. Time does not stop, there is no rewind button. You can't go back, only forward. So, give them a hug. Put your kids as a priority, not the evening TV shows. Tell them you love them, all the time. Call your Mom back when she calls you a few times and you think you are too busy. Stop what you are doing, really look and pay attention to your friends and family. People are precious. Hold them dear.



I have Learned that it's okay to have a mess once in a while.

I once heard a quote that I loved, "A great Mom has dirty floors, dirty ovens and happy kids". I tell you what, my kids must be flipping ecstatic all the time. Never mind if I heard myself say that quote to myself when I was mentally bartering with myself on whether to clean or play. This Saturday I was trying to undo what the week had done to my house, and in my cleaning frenzy, I see my son lugging a box of toys down the stairs to play in the living room. I saw his grinning face, all ready to destroy my clean living room have fun playing in the living room. Now I had a decision. Do I tell him to turn around and play in his room? Or do I let him come downstairs and instead of think about the amount of a mess that he will make, think about the amount of fun he will have... I glanced to the stack of dirty dishes (my kitchen has been in a perpetual state of chaos all week as I have made 3 cakes this week!) and then back to him. I put down the sponge and thus began an epic battle of Lego's versus Transformers, with an assist from some army men.



I have Learned to celebrate the small things.



Life is hard, sometimes really hard. I try to celebrate the small things. With my son, he started Kindergarten this year, so watching him learn and grow is fantastic. It's the small things that really can make your day, if you focus on them. Him remembering to wash his hands after the bathroom, with no reminders from me. Even if it's crazy or odd. Anyone with a child that has had constipation issues can understand how odd it can be to stand over a toilet and cheer for a poop. When you flash to that moment, you realize that your life has really changed as a parent when you cheer for #2. Yay for poo! But, celebrate the small things. When you have a bad day, think of all the things that went right, even if it that the car started and you didn't get a flat tire of the way to work.



I have Learned to remember all of the things I love about being a Mom when my child is acting a fool and I want to leave him on a neighbors door step.



Seriously, have you had those moments when you are staring at your child wondering where they came from, what is possessing them, and who you can give them to. I try to remember all the things I love about being a Mom. It helps. Sometimes. I love the unsolicited "I love you's". I love snuggling in bed watching a movie. I love the look of pure happiness. I love the look of awe when they are seeing something new for the first time. I love when they are sleeping and they look like little angels. I love kissing his soft little cheek. One day there will be stubble there.

 That look of awe right there. We went to Sea World and he saw Shamu for the first time. Ignore the diva sunglasses, it was bright and I gave him my sunglasses.


I have learned many things from my loss. One great thing I have learned is that I work for a great company, full of great people. Our world is changing, and we are lucky to have a great company with solid direction. I have received so much love and support during my 11 years at Lowe's, full of good times and rough spots. I got married and had three beautiful children (not actually in the store, although I always wanted to play a joke on people when I was pregnant). I will forever sing the praises of the wonderful company I work for.



I will leave you with this. Give them a hug and tell them you love them.

And I will leave you with a few pictures of the most perfect baby ever!!

This one is extra funny because it looks like she is trying crazy hard to fart on Jessica's hand. That's my girl!!

On a poop and a prayer.

Tommy has a problem. A pooping problem.


Tommy has a pooping issue, thus prompting us to go to the Pediatrician, who then ordered an X-ray of his abdomen, which then showed the enormous poop build up, and subsequently directed us to administer a series of enemas (five).... Oh..okay.





After Josh negotiated with a 5 year old for several hours, he was finally able to "get it done". After which, still did not induce a BM, and then Tommy started vomiting profusely. I came home from work, called the after hours nurse hot line, and was directed to go to the ER. So, after hours of waiting for a BM, we went to the ER to see a DR.





An IV was put in (horrible...with Tommy screaming, "Why are they hurting me?!"), blood taken out for testing, and another X-ray was completed. I really felt this entire time that we would go, they would say, it's still poop. And we would go home to face more enemas and poopy pull ups. Innocently I looked up at the doctor as he entered the room, and full of hope to go home, and sleep, I waited for his response.


"Blah blah blah medical stuff (did I mention it was about 4am now?) blah bladdity blah, white blood cells elevated, blah, stool up to his lungs, blah, Dell Children's Hospital". Wait. What? What did he say?

I felt the blood drain from my face, and I wonder if the doctor was even aware of the nervous shift in the room.
"So, I will need to drive him over there?" I asked hopefully. "No, he will need to be taken by ambulance, as he has an IV", he replied. Ooohhhhhhhhh........
As I tried to maintain control, a slew of emotions flooded with me. From what seemed like an small problem, had escalated to grand poop proportions, and I started to lose my grip. Tommy was still sleeping in the bed, thankfully unaware of the situation.

I can't begin to explain the feelings of anguish and heartache as I watch him being strapped on to the gurney and taken to the ambulance. I must have looked more upset then I thought, as the EMT pulled me aside and asked if I was okay. I said I was fine, just that my entire world was being placed in their hands. I slowly reached up and grabbed the EMT's collar, and whispered calmly, "if anything happens or you turn on your lights while driving, I will cut you." He reached up and gently pried my hand from his coat, and gave me a sympathetic look. Seriously. Driving behind them, I felt the tension and did my best not to cry and swerve all over the road. It's difficult to drive straight and shake a fist at the window to remind them to take care of my baby.

I should have just gone to Dell Children's Hospital in the first place, but really...didn't want to go back there. Just thinking about it makes my chest tighten. They are just wonderful at that hospital, and check on you every 10 minutes, compared to every 10 hours at Seton it seemed.

After completing the CAT scan, it was determined that there was no blockage, no bowl issues, no appendix issues, just a belly full of crap. Ugh. And then about 6 nurses and I sat on him to administer another enema, and for the next 5 hours, I was elbow deep in poo. It was a crappy day. Literally. He finally got out a turd the size of a tennis ball, and they let us leave. (Yes, they almost admitted him to the hospital for constipation). And just in case you were pondering to yourself, and counting the hours, yes, I was still awake and functioning at about 1pm, after not sleeping all night. And I still had to go to work after this. Boooooo.

I am still in shock about the escalation of the issue. I feel like such a failure as a parent. I can't get my child to poop successfully. I grew up with these issues, and I feel so bad for him. I just get frustrated and exhausted with thinking about what I can do to remedy this situation. I get frustrated with Tommy, and then I feel guilty. Why can't he just go poo!?

I don't know, we are still trying. But this was for sure a very long and crappy time. Emotionally, it was tough. I freak out when I think of anything happening to Tommy. But I know that we had to take care of him, and get him help, no matter where the location. But seriously, do you think God laughs when I pray desperately for poop to come for hours and hours? Even just a little snicker? I mean, come on, it has to be a teeny bit humorous when I am begging and praying on the floor for a smidge, a push, a drop of poop. People pray for all kinds of things. But bowel movements? Sighhhh. A prayer for poo.

Oh the hormones.....

Really just once, I would like to place my hand on someone (my husband preferably) and have my feelings transfer to that person in an M. Night Shyamalan fashion. With cinematic climax, suddenly the person (Josh) receiving my feelings would tense up, head snap back, as if possessed by a strange bolt of electricity. Then my dear husband (that's would could use this the most) would suddenly realize that I'm not bat shit crazy, and tenderly stroke my hair while he whispered sweetly in my ear, "I understand everything now, my precious wife, let me rub your feet and make you dinner".

But, that is very unlikely to happen.

And for as many times as I have glared at him, just once hoping that my feelings would somehow travel across the room and into his thick skull....still nothing. However, I feel he might be more concerned about the times he catches me staring at him, seemly chanting to myself. Awkward sideways glances....wondering where the nearest instrument of self defense would be....

Thus are the life and times of a pregnant woman.

I can't even begin to describe the feelings, the overwhelming roller coaster of emotions. I wish that I could garner enough emotional strength to properly deal with and act accordingly with the ebb and flow of turbulent feelings.

At this moment, today, I am feeling overwhelmed. Scared, lost, sad... I am a procrastinator by birth, and with such, I am just dealing with my lack of actions. I just wish that someone could tell me the right decision to make. I would love to talk to my Mom about what I should do, what the right path is. But, unfortunately that is not an option, thus making me sad. And there I go crying again.

Yes, I am pregnant again. Moments of great happiness over take me and I am consumed with anticipation about having another baby. I cannot wait, I keep imagining what it will be like. This little blessing is a girl. I still feel in shock about that news. I was resigned to the fact that I was going to just be the mother of boys. But, there in the picture, was a girl.
In some ways, I feel that this will be easier. That I will be less upset because it will not be as easy to draw comparisons between her and Riley. In other ways, I feel less ready to open myself up to the possible pain or hurt if something happens. I would love to put Tommy in a bubble and not let him out. The thought of him going to a big school scares the crap out of me. I picture all the bad things, but then sensibly, I understand all of the wonderful good things too.

I just want to crawl in bed and stay there for quite some time. That's how I feel today.
And on top of everything, my cooking has been crappy lately. One meal was barely edible.

Oh the hormones!

A Symphony of Analogies

Driving in the car seems to be the catalyst for my brain to think, think, think away. Busy at work, aside from the moments someone attempts to engage in conversation about my issues, I never seem to think about it. "It" being my loss. When I am home, I am usually tired from work, and like to spend time with Tommy, and he doesn't give in to my moments where I just want to crawl into bed with the covers over my head. So, my alone time comes when I commute to and from work. During this time, I seem to think about my day, conversations, issues, and Riley.



Some moments I feel like the thought of Riley is so far away, a fuzzy memory in a distant place. Sometimes a word, phrase or thought will draw me back into a moment around his death, and I can't escape the overwhelming feeling of loss. I remember bits and pieces, like a whirling thought tornado in my mind, some mental pictures sharp and in focus, others distorted and torn. I brew, harbor and obsess over a thought, racking back and forth in my mind. I have conversations with myself (not crazy ones) just conversations where I come up with cute analogies, For Death. Grief. Loss.



I feel the process of "dealing with grief" is like moving a mountain size pile of rocks from one location to another. Some rocks are small, pebble size, and you can easily manage them with no help. Some rocks are the size of boulders. To try to move the mountain of rocks by yourself, in one try is impossible. You have to be willing to accept help when you need it to move the large rocks you can't move by yourself. (therapy, friends, family). You have to work the mountain down, little by little, until you look back and realize that you accomplished it. A look back and you see how much work you have done to get yourself past the emotional trials, and from moving all those rocks, you are stronger. When I have issues working through grief, I feel like I just walk up and kick the pile of rocks, sending them flying about, making more of a mess. For me, I feel like a lot of the time I just put a big blanket over the pile, and pretend that it's not there. What's that? Oh, that's just a giant pile of blankets. Move along now. Nothing to see here.



People ask me about "It". I can feel them tip-toeing around the question. I have very simple responses sometimes. Sometimes I give an analogy.



Sometimes life throws you a curve ball. And sometimes life takes a baseball bat and proceeds to beat the shit out of you. When you can finally regain consciousness and open your swollen, busted up eyes, you realize you still have to play the game.



Sometimes life gives you lemons, and you can make lemonade. And sometimes life takes a cheese grater to your ass, then takes those lemons and squeezes lemon juice into your open wounds. Ouch.



Work is rough right now, with a foggy cloud of uncertainty looming over us. Some days I want to live in a bubble. Problems seem to pop up all the time. But whatever happens, I know that I have been through worse. And life will certainly go on. Maybe a little beaten up and with a lemon fresh ass, but what are you going to do? Just one day at a time. One rock at a time.

Let's Catch up on things.

Well hello again friends. We have not had a working computer in the house for quite some time, and Josh received his Christmas present yesterday. A new laptop computer, a beast of a computer, it weighs about as much as Tommy. Josh is so smitten, if the house were on fire, I think Josh would have to do a triple take between the computer and his loved ones. Actually, I think he would consider this computer as one of his loved ones now. I told him that I better not find the computer in my spot when I try to go to bed tonight.

So it is very wonderful to be back into the world of technology, I missed being connected to my friends and family.

Let's play the catch up game now, shall we. I am still working, although I am back at another store, the store I was at when I left for maternity leave. It's alright, crazy personalities out there that drive my patience to it's end some days. I feel like all I do is referee and mediate fights between grown men and women. Ridiculous on some days.

On the plus side, I am still gainfully employed so I should not complain about the trivial aspects of my job. A restructuring is being announced in the next few days, so we are all waiting to see what will happen. Who knows. Life is about more then your job, I just still would like to maintain my employment.

The holidays were okay, I loved to be able to spend time with my family, and Tommy on Christmas was adorable. I would have much liked to crawl up under the covers and stay until the end of the holidays, but it was about Tommy. Tommy is by far one of my favorite things, and he is just a hoot most of the time. I qualify that sentence with "most of the time". He is still an almost 5 year old little boy. He just told me to drink milk to stop my sneezing. He said my heart needs to be colder.

I think Josh installed something on his computer to ward off intruders, as I have been having an allergy attack since the minute I opened this thing. Sneeze!

I still have good and bad days. At work there are a few people that were hired after I left, so I have been meeting them and getting to know them. A nice man came up and told me he was very sorry to hear about my loss, someone had told him earlier. He said he would have never guessed that I had dealt with that such a short time ago. Sometimes this surprises me because I don't know anyway else to be at work. It wouldn't be fair to others if I moped around all day. Don't get me wrong, I feel like I spend so much energy at work maintaining a cheerful demeanor, that when I get home, I am spent. I have just enough left in me to spend time with Tommy, and some days just barely.

So until next time. Josh is off today, and so am I! Yay! I am going to make a nice dinner tonight.

Captain Georgie

Well hello.
We completed an inventory process at work, and I was the "Inventory captain". As I have done this many times, it was an easy task for me to enter back into the routine of work. While we were working, there was another manager that was looking for a certain product and was not finding it. I went to look for it, and after searching and arguing, I located the product. I was quite elated. With a T.O. inspired end zone dance, I threw the clipboard down and did my best MC Hammer happy routine. As I watched the other manager in the midst of my celebration, I noticed the flash of disappointment and anger cross her face. I realized I was being a bit too gratuitous with my self-praise. Oops. Okay, so I didn't throw the clipboard down, but I was gloating a little bit. Okay, a lot. I felt so proud of myself, and to be honest, it was great to feel something positive. After weeks of dredging through the days, feeling as if the life was being vacuumed sucked out of me, it was great to feel useful and accomplished. At the end of the process, it was very successful, and we had a significant financial gain. Thank you very much, oh there I go again.

Last week was my birthday. I felt so down all day, I woke up with a gloom cloud over my head. I cried all the way to work. I don't know why. It should have been a happier day, but I just felt so bummy. I am blessed to work with wonderful people, and after being treated to lunch, I was given a great big birthday cake. I joked with the HR manager as I returned from lunch, asking where the heck my cake was, and was embarrassed and surprised to find the large cake waiting!

I still think of Riley all the time. It intensifying when I am driving home. It's like a loop playing over and over. I can't believe it's been two months since he passed away. It is starting to feel like a dream, both his life and death. Things start to turn fuzzy, memories fade around the edges, and days go by faster and faster. The holidays are approaching, and I would just like to sleep through everything. With the exception of Tommy, I just don't want to do anything. I am still sleepy all the time, and I wish I could find some solution for constant exhaustion. I feel like I just can't fully enjoy anything. I don't like to tap into my emotions, and I feel another internal dam being built. I haven't been to therapy since returning to work, as I work during the week, but I feel I should be making more effort.

I keep seeing babies everywhere, and I can't help but want another baby. I can really feel the aching and longing inside. I just don't know if I'm ready, but I sure do want another baby. A good friend of mine just had her baby, and he is in the hospital. He aspirated the meconium and is in Dell children's Hospital. Yes, that one has been crossed of my list, but I still want to go visit. Please pray for quick healing and recovery. It hurts my heart to see that little guy in the hospital bed, and I ache inside for the torment the parents are going through.

On another note, I have been watching the Thanksgiving cooking shows on TV, and I just can't wait to cook. I think I will make an apple pie like my mom used to make. Yum.

Back to Reality

So, the first week of work is over. I am so happy for the weekend to arrive, I am exhausted. Trying to look busy at work all day is very tiring. Ha.
I absolutely love my job, and I am blessed to work with wonderful people. Although, I couldn't help but feel like I was handled with care, like I would break if I was shaken too hard. I do appreciate the concern, and it was an easier transition then I thought. Only one person asked me about Riley, so in one week, not so bad. I still feel cloudy headed and unfocused. I enjoy the challenges of my job, and I was excited when my advice was sought after. I felt useful again. My former confidence is slowly seeping back in.

I still find myself easily flustered. Then I want to cry and just escape. I drove around for 45 minutes on my lunch break looking for a Bank of America, only to find the location was 3 minutes away from my work. Ugh, it was tucked back in the damn trees, and I wanted to yell at someone for the poor placement of the bank. Grrrr. There was a moment when the store felt like it was a part of Babies on Parade. I saw so many babies. It was like shoving an alcoholic in a liquor store for an hour. It was painful.

I felt so anxious the first day to get home to Tommy. I have an underlying fear of something happening to him. Yesterday my brother called me twice, and I missed both phone calls. I immediately thought something was wrong, and I freaked out. But, no, nothing was wrong. I will forever have fears of something happening to my children.

So other then work, nothing much going on. I am happy to be back in the swing of things, and I am looking forward to regaining my full mental capacity. My birthday is coming up in a few days. I can't believe it's November already. Oh time flies. I have been making jewelry, and I am really enjoying it. I would take pictures and post them, but I am afraid to charge my camera. I don't know what pictures might be on the camera, and I haven't gotten the courage to charge it. I will someday. Soon, it's almost Christmas.

Okay, love to all. I'm going to play outside with my favorite little boy.

Well hello again

So, it's been a while. Why, you ask? No clue. Just didn't darn well feel like it. The past few weeks have been about the same. Good days and bad days, mixed together with a blender, all leaking into each other. Some days I feel normal. I feel like life is worth living and I have hope and a pleasant disposition. Other days I feel groggy, cloudy-headed and grumpy. Eye brows pointed down in a mean looking scowl.

I sit on our bed and fold clothes and stare vacantly at the pictures on our dresser. My favorite is a picture of Tommy and Riley. Riley is looking right into the camera and he just seems so alive. It feels like it has forever since he passed away. At the same time it feels like yesterday.
Some days I feel like my limbs weigh a hundred pounds each. I slug through each day, waiting for the day to wind down. Hours. minutes. I read a book a day. I hide my feelings in my novels, escaping into story after story.

The good days feel like the moments after the storm when the sun pokes through the clouds. I feel happy. A very simple, honest statement. I hope to have more good days then bad.
I go back to work Monday. Day after tomorrow. Last week, before I officially committed to it, I felt ready, and somewhat excited about going back. I felt the small inkling of "stir crazy-ness" and after long days with Tommy...I felt ready to go back. After making the call, and setting the date...now I feel like calling back and saying Just kidding! Now, with the day getting closer, I feel nervous and scared again. I talked about this with my counselor on Thursday, and she suggested talking to my manager about having a message released about people addressing me about Riley. That way people don't even have to worry about what to say to me, not that I am at the center of the universe, but I really don't want to talk about it. I am looking at work as a means of escape right now. Right now, my days are filled with very little, spending time with Tommy but not much else. My mind is left to think, left to it's own destructive devices sometimes. And I am about done being home with Tommy. I adore and love the boy, but he is tiring, as a 4 year old can be.

I am glad I am going to counseling, I really like her. I never felt that it would be a fit for me, but most sessions I feel like skipping to my car afterwards. I feel lighter, open, and free. I keep the little ball of emotions right in my chest, physically impacted by grief. Talking about my feelings has never been something that I have ever felt comfortable with, but it works. Oh, I like it.

I just want to have fun, feel like the weight is gone. Last night we went to the Halloween party (dressed as zombies...ironic) but we just weren't feeling it. I could have indulged and got toasty, but I just didn't feel like it. I see everyone having fun, and I want to cry. I was talking with another mom about her baby monitor, and she told us how much it cost. A pretty penny, but she said it gave her piece of mind. Oh what I wouldn't do to turn back time, buy, steal, beg, borrow that video monitor. After that conversation, it was like a switch flipped. Annnnd done. I feel like I failed all over again.

Tommy bit someone at school last week, and while the teacher was telling me about it, I felt shameful, like the stink of parental failure was oozing off of me. I wanted to cry, I wanted to spank Tommy's backside off. I feel I have always doubted myself as a parent, and Rileys death was a giant slap in the face. More pity party for me. I have been on a three day stretch of bad days.

And so now I have one more day before I return to a "normal" day of my life. Back to the way it was, only with no little baby.

My Story

I caution reading this, as I am pouring my personal thoughts into this. I need a release, a way to let it out. This is my story of losing my son.

Josh's car had broken down, and was in the shop,and my father in law took me to work that day. Looking back, I can only think that was meant to happen that way.

I woke up at 2:30am to feed Riley, and after eating, he went back to sleep. I was to be at work at 7am that morning. After getting ready, I went into the bedroom to kiss my boys goodbye. I leaned into our bed and kissed Tommy, and then walked to the crib. I stoked Riley's back, he barely stirred, his hand moved. I leaned down and kissed his head and said goodbye.

At 8:15am I received the phone call. My cell phone rang, and I was in my office so I answered it. It was my father in law. I could tell in his voice, as he spoke the words that something was wrong. I don't remember quite exactly what he said, but his voice cracked with emotion as he said that when Joan went to wake Tommy for school, she saw Riley was stuck in between the mattress and the crib. My heart sank, and I asked if he was alright, he said that the paramedics were working on him. At that moment, I knew it was serious. He asked me to call Josh.

I remember my hands shaking so hard, I could barely find his work number in my phone, I called his cell first, with no answer. When I got through to his work, I screamed at the girl that it was an emergency and I needed to talk to Josh right away. When I was on hold, Josh called me back. When I answered, I remember screaming into the phone, "Riley's dead!", and something else, I don't know why I said those words. I had not received true notice yet that he was dead, why would I say that? I don't know. I needed someone to come pick me up, but Josh was much closer to the house, so he wanted to go straight home. I said that I would call Krissy to come get me. I called Krissy, and don't even remember having that conversation.

At some point, someone at work must have heard my screaming or crying, and although I had closed my door, another manager came in. I remember him asking me what was wrong, and I just screamed and collapsed. I remember him pulling me into a chair. I remember his hand on my knee, and seeing his hand shaking, then I realized that I was shaking violently. I remember screaming out, "God, please don't take my baby", over and over. As he hugged me, I barely remember his words, but he kept saying, "it will be alright", over and over. I knew that it wouldn't.

It was like a shift, a mental off switch. I felt numb. But not as numb as I would later. My therapist says that it is one of the body's defense mechanisms when the brain encounters trauma. As I waited for Krissy to get there, either I called her or she called me, I don't remember. She asked how I was doing, and I do remember screaming back into the phone at her, "How the Fuck Do YOU THINK I AM DOING?". Sorry Krissy. Another manager then came and helped me and Cliff outside to wait for Krissy. I felt like I was in a haze, in a dream. I dropped my purse, I didn't care. My arms could no longer hold it. We waited outside, and in seconds, Krissy arrived. I remember someone else from the store coming out to see if I was okay. I got into the car, and we started to head home. I remember telling Krissy that he was dead. She said you don't know that. I said they haven't called. If there was good news, they would call, bad news....no call. Then my phone rang. My heart sprang. It was my father in law, telling me that they had a pulse, and were transporting him to Dell Children's Hospital. Josh was with them in the ambulance.

We changed course and headed for the hospital. I called Josh, and could hear the sirens over his voice. When we got to the hospital, we didn't know exactly where to go. She dropped me off at the emergency entrance. I walked to the desk, and the lady entered my name, and gave me a stupid name tag with smiling children on it. She directed me towards the call and said someone would meet me. As I walked down the hall, I still felt numb. A woman approached me, and introduced herself as the chaplain. Shit. I started crying again, said that I had already lost my parents, why my child. She calmed me, and told me that my husband was already here, and that I had to calm myself, they were working on him. She led me to the room. I saw Josh sitting in the chair, with bloodshot eyeing, crying. I remember feeling so bad that he was by himself. We embraced, crying. They led us to chairs, and another woman introduced herself. I barely remember her words. I remember looking over at the hospital bed, so huge in comparison to the tiny little being that was being furiously worked on in it. I could barely see him through the tangle of wires, nurses and cords. I heard shouts of medical terms, some I recognized, being thrown back and forth to the medical team. Josh and I sat there, holding hands. I prayed for anything, anything. I pleaded with God, begged, and sobbed for him to give me back my baby. I would raise a a disabled child, anything, don't take my baby. As the lady whispered explanations into my ear, I continued to nod, as if I understood. At one point, one of the doctors yelled that they had a pulse, I looked up and clearly remember locking eyes with one of the nurses. It was if she could feel the urgency in my stare. It seemed like hours, then a team from the NICU unit came down, and another rush of hope surged through me, they were seeming more positive that he would be alright. Then, with everyone there, I remember the doctor coming over to us and kneeling before our seats. For a second, I thought she was going to explain what was going to happen next, but then I saw the loss and sorrow in her eyes. She said that there was nothing more they could do, he didn't have a pulse any longer, nothing. I don't remember everything that she said, my mind stopped listening.

I screamed, I clutched Josh and I screamed. Over and over. My baby, my baby. No, not my baby. I can't express the torment, the onslaught of emotions. It didn't seem real. It was just seconds before, and they had hope. Cruel hope. I heard the words of the doctor as she pronounced the time of death. I remember wanting to shove away from everyone, run away, pretend like this didn't just happen. I wanted my mom.

The moments directly after this, I do not remember much at all. My entire body was numb. I stated earlier that I felt numb, that was nothing compared to this feeling. My limbs felt like each one had been tied to 50lb weights. I couldn't move, I could barely breathe. I was worried about Josh. He has never had to experience loss. I was so worried and just overwhelmed with concern for him. I remember bits and pieces, flashes in my memory. From what had once been a room filled with 30 people, filled with energy, had dwindled to few, like a switch had been flicked, the spirit in the room died. I didn't know what to do. I felt like I could run a thousand miles and at the same time, sleep for years. Such an odd feeling.

I remember talking to some people, some taking our information, I don't remember what else. I remember sitting in the chair, watching as a nurse cleaned and wrapped him in a blanket, looking like a newborn. They gave us time alone with Riley. I looked down at the bed, at the little baby that was one my precious son. He chest rose and then fell, like taking a deep breath. My heart stopped. I stammered to the nurse about what I saw, and she explained it was the bodies reflexes. That was like a knife, twisting deep into my heart, a cruel devilish joke. He looked asleep. I picked him up, and he felt so heavy in my arms, I had him for seconds, and then said to Josh that I couldn't hold him. I remember telling myself that I would not regret this. That this was not my baby, he was gone to heaven, this was his shell. I chanted to myself this over and over. Well, now. I regret this. I will have to live with this, and I hate this feeling. I should have held him, rocked him. Josh instead held him and gently walked over to the rocker and sat down. I will never forget the sight of him sobbing over Riley, holding our son. Riley's chest was still moving up and down, and I couldn't take the sight of it. It was unnerving. It was unnatural. It went against all the feelings, to be told he was dead, then to see him seem alive. His coloring was starting to fade. His lips turning blue.

We sat there for long moments, not know what to say. My body and mind had shut down. Words escaped me. I stroked his head, he was gone. Gone, and it was over. This is never supposed to happen, the loss it far to great for a parent to bear. I had to get out of the room. I didn't want to leave Josh, but I couldn't stay. The chaplain walked me outside. We just sat on a bench. I felt torn about being away from Josh, and yet I didn't want to be back in that room. Death held a heavy veil over that room.

Again, I don't remember much. I remember my brother and sister in law coming in. I have only seen my brother cry maybe 3 times in my life, this was one of them. I watched as they leaned over Riley, laying back on the hospital bed. Time moved in slow motion. My brother and I went outside. I felt bad for not being next to Josh the entire time, but I think that we each needed our space, and we would reunite together soon.

Many things happened that day, they moved him into another room, and the pastor from Josh's parents house came. Josh dressed him, I couldn't bear it. I still can't imagine what he felt while dressing our little boy in an outfit. Our beautiful baby. We all gather together to pray. I remember the pastor saying he looked so perfect, so beautiful. In my head, I wanted to scream, "Perfect? Except for the fact that he is DEAD". We all stayed in the room, saying good byes. Everyone left so Josh and I could be alone with him. We sat on the edges of the bed, and I said I'm so sorry, so sorry. My baby boy. He was supposed to be mine, my little version. His little tongue was sticking out, just like he used to do. I remember thinking about his eyes. They were such a beautiful color, gray blue with hits of green or brown around the edges. I told him that I wished we could have seen what color his eyes would have been. We cried and laid over him, saying good bye. I kissed his forehead, now cold.

We left. I was gone. Emotionally, mentally gone. Several conversations had to be held, CPS, Travis County, etc. I remember them shuffling us from area to area. I remember Joan trying to talk to someone on the phone about what happened, and I could tell they couldn't hear her. She said over and over, "My grandson Riley died today". I couldn't take it. I wanted to run away again.

We finally were able to leave. I can't even begin to explain how I felt. It was like leaving that hospital, a piece of my heart and soul was left behind. I have been making it through, but I died a little back there. Deep on the inside. A part to always remain. I have a list of hospitals that I hate, one that my dad died in, and now another that I have to cross off my list.

I have struggled, and continue to struggle with the "what-ifs". As many times as people say, and as many times as I tell myself, it still seems to do no good. What if I had just stayed home, taken a longer maternity leave. I had just gone back to work the previous week. What if I had switched shifts, like Josh and I had talked about the night before. He was right in the middle of the crib when I left in the morning, what if I had just picked him up, told Joan to feed him. What if I had just been better, what if I had bought that baby monitor. What if.... It still kills me. I feel like a failure. Our job in life is to take care of our children. Keep them safe. I failed. I lost my baby.

I regret not holding him. As much as I forced myself to believe that I wouldn't in that moment, I do. I feel like I rejected him. I have to get over that, and in time I will. I regret not calling my Mom back the few times she called before she died. I regret being angry with my Dad before he died, separating myself from him due to teenage angst.

I m so angry, so lost, so tired. I feel compelled to reach out to God, and I have been. But I still feel myself clinging to my grief. I am not letting go, for reasons I have no idea. It's only been a month, and I know from experience that the grieving cycle is a long journey.

I do remember talking to the sheriff. At the end of our conversation, he asked if there was anything that he could do for me. I turned, looked into his eyes, and asked, "Tell me how do I live? How do I keep going?". He said, very simply, "You will".

And I will.

My release came.

Lego's and Lonely.

Yesterday was a long day, but a nice one. Tommy and I had to get up early to take Josh's parents to the airport. Tommy was quite disappointed that in the past week he has made two trips to the airport, but has not gotten on a plane, nor has been able to see a plane take off. He keeps asking when Daddy will be home, and I will tell him, 4 nite-nites. He then ponders that and says, "no...two!". I tell him that Daddy will be home Friday night. He then asks what day today is, and then the argument becomes circular, as he continues to believe he can negotiate his fathers return date. It's funny. The first few times...

After the airport trip, we came home and still had a couple of hours before Tommy went to school. I tried to lure him into cuddling with me on the couch, but he wanted to play. So I laid on the couch with one arm dangling down on the ground, half heartedly playing with the trains. He could tell I wasn't fully invested in this playtime, so I swear he sighed, got the blanket and covered me, turned on the TV and said, "here Mama, watch TV". Oh my Tommy. I took him to school and he sprinted for the door before I was done getting his backpack out of the car. His teacher had been on vacation and he was beyond excited to see her. He was already hugging her legs by the time I had gotten to the classroom. I love that he enjoys school so much, it has been great for him.

While Tommy was at school, I met up with a friend and had another wonderful lunch. I picked Tommy up and we went home. All by ourselves. The big house so empty and quiet. The rest of the afternoon was spent playing Lego's for hours. Then trains, then Lego's. We went to Target and he got a cheap helicopter toy. I love his laugh, the deep guttural laugh, when something is so funny. The helicopter would dance around the coffee table, barely hovering, but he thought it was hysterical. Every inch of the living room is covered with Lego's, trains, books, and blocks. Humongous mess. Each time I tried to pick it up, it didn't last long. After dinner, bath time, and reading time, we watched a movie. He curled up in my lap and fell asleep. There is nothing better then the feeling of holding your child in your arms while they are deep in sleep. For one, they are quiet. Just kidding. He is so beautiful when he sleeps. I carried him to his bed, then I had quiet time.

I purchased a new purse the other day, and switched out all of the items from my old to my new. In a fold in the bottom of the old purse, I found one of Riley's pacifiers. Holding it in my hand, I felt mixed emotions. Honestly, I wanted to suck on it, connect with Riley, odd I know. I thought back to the memories with the pacifier. Neither of my children ever really took to pacifiers, but we still tried when nothing else seemed to work. My heart stopped for a minute when I saw it. I miss holding him up, face to face, nose to nose. When he was hungry, he would lean into my face and starting sucking on my nose. I always thought that was so funny. God, it still hurts so bad. In four days he would have been 4 months old.

My "homework" from my personal counselor was to take some quiet time, relax and try to let myself grieve. Let go of whatever seems to keep me from opening my vault of feelings, and release. So far, I am failing. I tried. I tried last night, and this morning while sitting on the back porch. I can't explain it, the block, the dam holding back the flood of my emotions. Maybe it will come, in it's own time. Like a quiet monster, waiting to jump out of the closet and surprise me.

I don't know. I feel quite lonely today.

On a side note, Josh's cat is going CRAZY. This thing is running all over the house, and then he will stop right in front of me, meow really loud and crazy-like, then dart off. It's like he just stopped to yell at me. He finally resorting to coming around me and rubbing against my legs, as if to say, "fine, I guess I'm stuck with you". But then I shoo him away (I don't like him that much), and he turns back at me and gives me a kitty Go-to-hell look. Fine by me. Furry punk.

Hoping for the Best

Well, in just a couple hours, I will be at my appointment with the counselor. I am so nervous about it, and I don't know exactly why. I think one of the reasons the meeting with the church counselor went well for me on Sunday was that Josh was with me. I miss my husband. We have only been apart from each other this long one other time since we have been together. Josh went to the Katrina area to volunteer with clean up for a week after the hurricane. He did call me after each flight yesterday to confirm that he was still alive after each landing. I'm so glad he can deal with my neurosis.

Josh's parents leave Wednesday morning and I will be all by myself with Tommy. I am looking forward to some cozy Tommy time. I went to Half Priced Books and purchased about ten new books, from the $1 children's clearance section. We've got some reading to do! Of course I picked up a few selections for myself as well...

I wonder if I will cry during my meeting today. I can count on one hand the times I have unabashedly cried over Riley. For some reason, the tears do not come, and I do not force them. I suppose it's a defense mechanism, or that I want to remain stronger for whatever reason. It's hard to cry in front of people, I am not a hugger. And for some reason, when you cry, people want to hug you. I suppose it's the only thing that feels natural to do. I just want to curl up in a ball and hide in a closet. Then gather myself up, wipe myself off, pick up a shoe and come out of the closet saying, "Found it! I thought the shoe was in there. Just needed a minute to look".

Who knows. I hope I like her. I hope I let myself be free. I hope I will quit being so nervous! I'm not going for a job interview for goodness sakes. I hope she won't look at me at the end of the session, and with a forced smile give me names of other counselors that might suit me better.

Well, whatever happens, I hope I will feel better.

Bubble it Up.

Today Josh and I went to church, and it was nice. I feel like it starts the day off well. Josh will be going out of town tomorrow, and I have to say that I am nervous. I would like to put my entire family into a bubble and protect them from any harm or illness. I know this sounds crazy, but I can't stand the thought of anything happening to him. I have told God that he is not allowed to have anyone else for the time being. Thank you very much.

Josh will gone until Friday for training for work, and I will have the house to myself on Wednesday and Friday when Tommy goes to school. I have made several plans for company this week, and I am looking forward to each date.

I love spending time with Josh. We were able to go to a late dinner last night, and today we spent the day together. After church we went over to my brothers for a bit, and then to the store. After we dropped Tommy off with Josh's parents, we then went to our counseling session. I think it went well. I didn't really know what to expect, as those close to you know, I am not a big fan of opening up and talking. The first session was really a way for us to get to know the counselor and our background. I did enjoy speaking with her.

Josh and I made a commitment to set time aside for us to meet with her, and give us an opportunity to focus on our grief and loss. I realized that as the words came out of my mouth, I hadn't really thought about it like that, but as I spoke it made sense. We can travel through our days, living our new life, and a sense of normalcy can set in quite quickly. This can then be a hindrance to us emotionally, as we are not moving through the "grief cycle". Everyone handles loss and grief differently, and I think that through this, we can come together and work towards overcoming any obstacles that we will encounter. I was encouraged at Josh's willingness and enthusiasm, and I felt renewed with the feeling that we can come together more and more as a couple. We will be stronger together because of this.

I have never felt comfortable with counseling, and I have only been to a counselor once when I was still living with my parents, when Dad was very ill. Just didn't seem to fit with me. I have an appointment with another counselor on Tuesday, as I feel I would like some additional time for myself to sort through the gamut of emotions that continue to bubble up. But, I can see this as being a positive thing, that's what I continue to tell myself.

After counseling, we grabbed a bite to eat, and then went to the movies. Social Network, I recommend it, quite a decent movie.

Sometimes I feel guilty for not thinking of Riley all of the time. I believe I am still in the "denial" stage of grief, as I still can't fathom that this event happened. When I do allow myself to reach into those emotions and picture his beautiful little face, I feel empty and forlorn. I wish I could rewind the last month. Today is exactly one month. I need to find a large family size bubble.

Well it worked, sort of

Started off sad, but I stuck to my plans!

Someone called me today, not a close friend, but someone I worked with. She said, you must miss Riley so much. "Miss him? MISS HIM?", I don't know why I felt so annoyed at the simple comment. It's like going up to an amputee and glancing at the spot where their arm was and saying, "Man, you must really miss your arm, huh?".


Miss him doesn't even begin to explain the feeling. It's like a part of you was torn away, an act of separation that goes against nature. Parents should never have to feel the loss of a child, it's just wrong. It's a tormenting relentless ache in your chest, a physical pain that changes you. It's a gut wrenching, heart stopping feeling that makes you feel helpless and lost. Something was stolen from you, and a piece of you is now missing. Searching for the reasons and answers does nothing to ease the pain, but you still feel compelled to try.

Today is my Mother's Birthday. Happy Birthday Mom! I realized it when I was driving home last night. After my Dad died, I would still buy Father's Day cards and birthday cards for him. I would write a message to him, tell him how much I loved him, and how much I miss him. Then I would seal it and throw it away. It's purpose was fulfilled. It helped me to reach out to him, imagine him reading the message from heaven, and it connected us again. I think I will buy a birthday card for my Mom. I know I still haven't fully recovered from her death, it was too much of a shock. I just shoved it down and moved on. Repress now, therapy later. Well...now it's later.

But on the upside, I finally found a counselor that I think I will be comfortable talking to, and an appointment has been set! I am quite excited and looking forward to it. For reasons I can't understand, I just feel it might be refreshing to talk to someone who doesn't know me, and is not going through a grieving cycle themselves. We have an appointment Tuesday, so we shall see. Josh and I are meeting with a counselor at the church on Sunday, so we will see how that goes as well.

I stuck to my plan of keeping busy and active, and again I had a great day. I got my nails done, went to dinner and a comedy club. All afternoon and evening I laughed and laughed. I have wonderful friends.

I feel like I am forgetting something that I was supposed to do this weekend. Today my brain completely left me while at the grocery store. As I have previously stated, I need a personal driver. Today, after returning into the car, I put the van in reverse. I failed to remember that I had done this, and as I searched for my phone in my purse with solid concentration, I did not realize that the van was slowly moving backward across the parking lot. Bam! Right into a curb. Thank God that was all that I hit, and I looked up from my searching wondering who just hit me... I then looked around to see all the people staring at me. Nice. I remember a fleeting thought pass through my mind as I saw the cars next to me move away, "huh, that's funny, both cars leaving at the same time. Hmm. Where is that darn phone?" I am losing it.

Whew, I am tired now. Everyone else is asleep, and I think I will join them. Tomorrow, if I don't remember what I was supposed to do, I am going to clean. That's my plan.

It's all in the planning

So, I seem to have discovered a pattern of my moods recently. I may have figured out this bi-polar grief roller coaster. I have noticed that certain days are better than others, and by golly, I think I've got it. On the "bad days", as I call them, I stay at home, wallowing in the depths, slugging my way through the day, giving everyone the stink eye. On my "good days",I am out and about, meeting up with people, getting out of the house, and showering...
So, I have decided to try to have a nice balance of days filled with a sprinkling of human interaction. I put out the memo to friends, and have a nice social calendar brewing. Especially for next week, as Josh will be out of town for work. I like this, it gives me something to look forward to, and I leave each "date" with such a happy feeling.

Today I felt joyful. Until just now, I just realized I ate the last of the chocolate covered pretzels and I swear I had one more in that bag. I didn't have a chance to savor that one last bite. I thought I had one more in there. There you go...a life lesson. Savor each chocolate covered pretzel. You never know if the next time you reach your hand back into the bag if it will be empty. And now I'm sad.

Back to my plan. I remove myself from my stinky (literally) pit of despair, and get back at it. I have lunch dates, movie dates, and a mani-pedi date. I just needed something for next Friday during the day...

So yes, today was joyful. God and I made up, and I felt happy. I had lunch with some great people, and it was a nice long lunch where you linger for a while and just talk. I finished making the earrings to complete a set I made for my aunt, and sent it away in the mail. Then, I came home and had a box waiting for me! Goodies from my aunt! Yay! An adorable top, a WONDERFUL craft tote, a book (!), lots of great beads, and more bead storage containers. Loved it. What a great surprise and I loved each and every item. I remember when my Mom mailed me a care package when I was in college. I called her and said, "Mom, you live 15 minutes away, seriously?...". But it was nice to get something in the mail, and spend the time unpacking everything. Getting mail is much more fun, real tangible mail!

My mission of trying to rope in a counselor is still underway. Paula Dean had a wait list, I still have messages that I left for 4 other counselors, and the only one that called me back sounded like she was a nice old lady. I don't know if I feel comfortable spilling my guts to grandma, and I do not mean to offend. I hate to seem so picky, but as Mary pointed out, I need to feel a connection and feel comfortable, so I am continuing to try. I have a good feeling about one I called today. I will stalker call these people if that's what it takes.

Other then my phone calls, I ran a few errands and just felt joyful. I was singing and dancing along to the music, and was happy to be out and about. Yet after I ate lunch, I felt rushed like I needed to get home. That was the feeling I always had with Riley, I think with any baby that young. But then, it was like my brain had pushed it away and was so happy for the joy, it forgot reality. And then I remember I don't have to rush home. Sometimes grief hits you like a brick wall. It tightens my chest and takes my breath away. Even now, recounting the feeling makes me step back and lose my train of thought. I still sometimes have trouble fully comprehending he is dead. I keep picturing him so alive in my mind.

Ugh, back to the joy! please, get back there! Happy thoughts...happy thoughts.
I still have plans for tomorrow, and will have another good day tomorrow. I will plan on calling more counselors. Darn it, I keep reaching for the Pretzel bag! I plan on buying more of those tomorrow....

Well that was fast...

So yesterday I was thankful. I felt nervous all day, but other then that, not an entirely bad day. Josh didn't work so we were able to spend some time together.

Today, not so much. I don't feel nervous, but I am angry. I'm pissed. I haven't been on Facebook in a while and I was today, and came across someone that just had a baby. Two days after Riley was born. Beautiful baby, happy pictures. Now all I feel is anger, resentment and jealousy. Like a dark cloud that surfaces right before a thunderstorm, you look up and wonder when that got there. I am intelligent enough to know that these feelings do no good, but today I feel tired of trying. I am tired of trying to pretend I'm not mad or upset. I want to get in a fight, beat someone up, express some of my pent up hostility.
This is nasty, horrible and I would never do this, but dammit today I'm done. Tomorrow may be another story, in five minutes it might be another story.
But right now.....

God, you are on my shit list right now.

I am Thankful..

Today I want to be thankful. I want to share everything that I thank God for everyday. As I root around in the depths of my sadness, I am constantly reminded of all that I have in my life to give sweet thanks for.

I give thanks for my family. Ten years ago, I stumbled across a dorky boy, shy but sweet. From the moment we first talked, looking into those big brown eyes, I was gone. Gone into a relationship with the man I would marry and start a family. We have had our share of ups and downs, but I have seen him emerge into a wonderful strong man, who has my heart always. He is my best friend, he knows me more than anyone, and I love that he can read me like an open book. We still talk for hours, hug for no reason, and can read each others mind. I think back to when we first met, when my Dad was still alive. Josh and I had only been out on a few dates. My Mom and I went out of town to visit family, and Dad died while we were gone. I came home to be with my brother, I didn't want him to be alone. Josh and I had just started dating, and the first time he met my family was when the door opened and he was bombarded by all of my family staring at him in the doorway. I remember him driving around, not being awkward or uncomfortable with me, as many do during those immediate moments following death. He held my hand, then me and let me cry. I love him will all of my heart and beyond that, he is the peanut butter to my jelly. I am so thankful for his love.
This time for us now will be the most difficult thing that we will ever have to endure, but I know that we will remain strong, and we are bonded together for an eternity.

I am so thankful for the wonderful bouncing boy that entered into our lives four years ago. I was unsure and scared of being a mother, I never considered myself the "motherly" type. But enter Tommy, and he has filled my life with so much joy and love, that sometimes I feel my heart overflowing. He has such a wonderful and funny personality, with each day bringing something out that makes me smile. My favorite times are in the mornings when he just wakes up, and comes to our bed. He crawls up and gets face to face with me, and then smiles. He says, "love you mama", with no solicitation. I love laying in bed with him, as he leans his head on my shoulder and cuddles into me, reading ALL of his books. He has a sweet nature, and loves to give hugs and kisses. I know that he will grow to be an amazing man, with so much to give. I thank God that I was given an opportunity to be a mother to this wonderful little man.

I am thankful for the time that I was given with my baby Riley. He made our family complete, and he always will. He will always hold a special place in our hearts. He was so tiny, such a little package of joy when he was born. He cried more and slept less, but I cherish every sleepless moment that I was holding him, and would listen to him cry for a million years. I loved that he was just starting to smile, and that I would lay him down and tickle his belly, and he would smile this huge grin up at me. I miss laying on the bed, with him next to me, just watching him sleep. I loved giving him a bath, his legs pumping with excitement. He enjoyed having the water on his head. I loved to rock him and just have him sleep on my chest, stroking his soft head. I loved his little toes, just like Josh's toes. I thank God that I was given the time with him. Given another chance to be a mother and have a baby to cherish.

I am thankful for the wonderful parents I was given to. I remember thinking and telling my mom when I was in high school, that I hope I can have a child someday, and make them feel as special as you make me feel. My mom would do anything for me, and even though she couldn't go to all of my events, or cheer me on at every game, I knew she wanted to be there. She helped me with projects, encouraged me when I was down, and pushed me when I was procrastinating. Our house was a different household, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. When my father would come up to school, people would stare. I would drape my arms over him, hug and love on him, and tell him he was the best father in the world. I was proud to have him as my Dad. No, he couldn't pick me up and hold me, or drive me to school, or make me dinner, but I could sit on his lap, and he could speed down the street, even without a car. He had a sense of humor that was endless and he carried himself without self pity. Even if he did get down, as I know he must have, it was never shared with me. From my parents, I learned that life can suck. It can and will be hard. But it's how you deal with the cards that are dealt that make you who you are. Laugh and life will be funny, smile and life will be happy.

I am thankful for my husbands parents. They are wonderful people, who would give anything to anyone. With giving hearts, they are an example of the selfless lives we are to live. I remember meeting Josh's mom for the first time, knowing she was special. I talked with her after my father died, and it was her encouragement and love that helped me open up and talk, meaning so much to me to be there without really even knowing me. She always has a positive outlook and disposition, without focusing on the hardships in life. I look at them as my parents, and thank God for having them in my life. They are wonderful parents and wonderful grandparents.

I thank God for my family. I have adored my brother for as long as I can remember. I always looked forward to seeing him again, letting me crawl on him, poke him and bug him as a little sister can. I longed for a relationship with him, and was thankful that we were given a chance to get to know each other. He moved in with us when Dad was very sick, and I am glad he came back down. I remember watching the Real World together, and laughing together. I would do anything for him, be anywhere and will always look up to him and adore him. He has a strength and fortitude that I don't even think he realizes. His words helped comfort me in the darkest moment, right after Riley died. He is my deep connection to a family now gone.

I am thankful for his first wife and her husband. They are wonderful people and despite the odds and past, they work together to form a wonderful family unit. I love my nieces with all of my heart, I love them like I love my own children. His two oldest daughters are blossoming into beautiful strong women. Full of strength, yet with a tinge of delicate children still there. I love my niece Hailey, she is my other daughter. Who knows if someday I will have a daughter, but I was given three wonderful girls to share my girly hopes and dresses with.

I am thankful that my brother was lucky enough to meet another wonderful woman, words cannot express the amount of love I have for her. She is my best friend, and I love her with all of my heart. I can count on her to call me when I need her, like she has a built in alert button that lights up when I have an issue. She is strength when I am weak, light when I am in the dark, a smile when I have a frown, an ear when I need to talk, a face to stare at when I just want to sit in quiet, and a joyful laugh to share when I need a release. With her came a wonderful little boy, who has grown to be a sweet spirit, a gentle teenager, with so much love. He handles the children climbing all over him, and with no angst he accepts their clamoring with a quiet smile. He is a wonderful and talented person, with an endless future and countless gifts. The word adore does nothing to convey the essence of my feelings for each and every one of them.

I am thankful for my mother's family, her mother, her two sisters and my cousins. On my father side I now that I have a huge extended family, but through time, we have lost touch. I miss the feeling of family, that feeling that takes you back to how you felt growing up. I can picture a scene in my childhood, an early morning where sunlight is just streaming through the windows. My father and mother in the living room, both greeting me as I enter. Walking past the sunlight, I feel the warmth of the sun, just as I feel the warmth of their love. I curl up on my mother's lap and she kisses my cheek. She gets up to make me something to eat, and I feel loved. Being around my mother's family brings me back to that feeling. I love my aunt's and each of them possess traits that reminds me of my mother. I love to hear stories of my parents, and it connects me to a feeling I often miss without realizing.

I am thankful for my friends. The past few weeks have been the hardest for me, but with the pain, their love and support overflowed. Nothing can ease the severe grief of losing a child, but the encouragement, thoughts and prayers held me up from drowning. I have realized that we are given gifts of friendship in life and ever more now, I cherish each relationship.

I am blessed to have my best friend Mary. We have known each other since the 6th grade, and have been best friends since high school. Two peas in a pod, we fit together. I can confide in her my deepest thoughts, and without judgement, she is always there for me. She has countless patience with me, and through everything, she has been there. I know we will be friends for the rest of our lives. She is my lifeline and she is the most giving and wonderful person, a rainbow at the end of my storm.

I am thankful for my work, and all the support I have received during several phases of my life. I love going to work, and each day is a new challenge, sometimes frustrating and most times rewarding. I am thankful for their understanding and encouragement.

I am thankful that I can share all of this, as I know that I have been very blessed. It makes me realize all that I have been given, and despite feeling like everything has been taken away, I feel renewed with the understanding of all that I have.

So, thank you. To each and every one of you. Thank you for all that you have done for me, and all that I have. Thank you God, for bestowing upon me these wonderful people and relationships.

I am so very thankful...

My Escape

I can't seem to think of anything to write. I always feel a little better after sharing my thoughts here, I but I feel stymied, a mental block. I have been reading a lot more lately. I understand why Josh plays video games, I always have. But now so more then ever. I read, and I enjoy to read as a means of escape. My mind can concentrate on the story, and I don't have a chance to wander into my swampy thoughts. If I could, I would have a room in my house dedicated to reading. I suppose they would call that room a library. I want floor to ceiling bookcases, brimmed to the edges with books. And an over sized comfy chair, with a well placed window for just enough natural light to stream in. I love that. I just wish I wouldn't read through books so fast. I drink up a novel like a thirsty man chugs a glass of ice water. Before I am prepared, the book is over. I need to take a trip to Half priced Books sometime soon. I have been thinking about getting a Kindle, I like the idea of the accessibility for obtaining new books. You hear about a book that you would like to read, and in minutes, with the convenience of staying at home, there it is. But there is just something special about books, the smell, the feel. I don't know if I would want to give that up.

I have been trying to get an appointment with a counselor. I can't even seem to do that. I have called several, and I have received no phone calls back. I just leave messages. When I called one back again, she said she didn't take my insurance. I was a bit put off by her dismissal in her voice. Its a bit disappointing, and one would think that in their profession, some delicate people are reaching out for help. Um, is it good to not call back and have that person face more disappointment? I'm just saying. It takes a lot for me to get the nerve to call, and then when nothing seems to be working out, it makes me want to just give it up. I looked online today and came across another woman who looked nice. Yes, I just want someone who looks pleasant, she reminded me of Paula Dean, so it felt right. I called her and left a message.

Josh started his new job today, and I can't stop from feeling nervous for him. I just want him to be happy, and have everything work out.
I feel so tired today. I took a shower at least, that is good. And with no where to go, even better, yay for me.

Every time I drop Tommy off at school, he tears up and tries not to cry. When I ask him why, he says that he will miss me. I tell him I love him and will miss him too, but he will have such a wonderful time at school, he will have so much fun. And he does. When I pick him up, he is happy and in a good mood. I thank God for that little boy everyday. He is such bright spot for me, and I am so lucky to have him. Even when he annoys me beyond understanding, repeats the same question 30 times, and doesn't listen to what I say. I still adore him. I just love to stare at him, and squeeze him, hug him, read to him, tickle him.

Lately I keep wondering what Riley would have been like. I can picture him a little older, more awareness in his eyes. I wonder what his personality would have been like. I am sad that Tommy doesn't have a little brother anymore. Tommy was such a sweetheart with Riley.

Well, I found a couple of other books I can read, until I make a trip to the bookstore. That should last for a few hours. Back to my escape.

I can do it.

I am so glad that we went out to our friends house today. I laughed so hard, my sides ached and it hurt to keep smiling. We had a good time, and it was really nice to get out of the house for something really fun. Today all I wanted to do was stay in bed. I was so tired and heavy feeling. I took one Xanax today, and felt so drugged I walked back to check to make sure I didn't take the entire bottle.

Just sad today, a bad day. Josh called me "emotionally unstable". Not sure if that is a proper description, but he might be right. I just feel off still. Even as I type I continue to hit the wrong keys, I type the wrong words, and have to re-read to make sure I make sense.

Yesterday, I went to visit a friend of ours. They have a baby about two months younger then Riley. It was nice to get out of the house, and they also have a son Tommy's age. I felt it was going to be difficult being around another baby, and it was. I did it, I held him. He was fussy in the chair, and I went to pick him up. I felt proud of myself that I could do it with out freaking out. I think it was easier because he looks so different then Riley to me. As I picked him up, I thought, I can do it. I can do it. It still hurt, I felt like I held back a gallon of tears, and tried not to cry. It was like hands on therapy. I talked about Riley as we talked about our kids. It was the first time I have spoken much about Riley. I miss him so. I look at pictures now and he seems different to me. I wish I would have cherished him more, held him more, stared at him more.

Today while lying in bed, I kept thinking, why, why, why? Did I not love him enough? Why this child? I would listen to him scream for a hundred hours straight to have him back with me.
When my friend was nursing her baby, I saw her baby look up into her eyes after he was done. I miss that look. I miss it so bad, my soul hurts. The bonding look, the deep connection to your child. Your baby falling asleep on your chest, the rise and fall of their chest, their angelic face deep in sleep. Riley was just starting to move his head to sounds, and I remember walking back into the bedroom when I had laid him down on the bed and he turned his head at the sound of my voice. And then he would smile.

I see people going about their lives, strangers, and I want to scream. I want to run up to them and yell in their face about the pain I am in. I don't know why I have these feelings. I don't feel like I will ever get over this. Grief is an evolution, of this I am aware. I am so sick of feeling this way, but I can't seem to move past it.

I need to fill my days with more fun times, like today. And remember that I can laugh, I can do it.

Help Wanted

I want to be strong, I want to be normal and return to the normal daily life. I know that we have a new normal to adjust to, and I just don't want to. The last two days, I feel like I backslid into weakness. It feels like the numbness is wearing off and reality is setting in. Yesterday I did not want to do anything. I wanted to crawl back into bed and stay there forever. Tommy, however does not seem to share the same feelings as I do, and pulls me out of bed when I feel this way. Literally, he grabs my leg and pulls.

Yesterday however, Tommy didn't succeed. Yesterday I cried. I sobbed. I let out feelings bottled up inside. I can't say that I felt better, but I felt less like a coke bottle that had been shaken up. Yesterday, someone came and slowly released a little pressure from that bottle. I had a horrible headache and laid down. Tommy tried to rouse me, but it didn't work. I then had a little boy snuggled up under my arm, staring me right in the face, eye to eye. We fell asleep, and it was a sweet sleep.

I just feel like I should be strong enough for this, and sometimes I am. But sometimes I feel like this weight will end me, crush me. I am reading a nice book on grief, and one of the stories said that you have to let your body grieve. I feel I am not. I want to cry but don't. I miss Riley so much, the pressure seems to much to live with. I was expected to return to work next week, but I don't think I will be able. I want to return to normal life, but I don't want to return to normal life. My baby died and my heart is broken. I feel like returning to normal life is not right. I understand enough that the journey we face ahead is a long and challenging one. With difficult high hills and low valleys. As time moves on, I know that the road on the journey will smooth, and be easier to navigate. But right now, all I see is a large, looming mountain with treacherous, stiff peaks, and dangerous paths. And I don't want to start climbing.

I feel like the initial shock and emotional separation is leaving me, and leaving me open and raw. I contacted two counselors, and one has called back to schedule an appointment. I feel better about this, but I have never liked or understood counseling. I am not one to talk about how I feel to a random person. But I know that this is a tool for my journey, and if I need a cane to help me walk, I must take it.

I like having things to look forward to. My cousin is coming down in a couple weeks and I can't wait to see her. We were invited to a party to watch the UT game tomorrow and I can't wait. It's a nice change to the sadness, a time to not be at home enveloped in grief. I didn't write yesterday because I didn't want to. I think of this as a personal journal for my thoughts and feelings, but sometimes I think, "will the people that read this eventually get sick and tired of me always being sad and depressed?" I don't know. Maybe someday another mother who is going through what I am going through will read this and find some solace with the fact she is not alone.

I miss my humor. I love my husband. Even though he is a jerk and deleted my recording of Project Runway. Sometimes I seem to mess up the DVR, it does not give him the right to take away my recording of one of my favorite shows. Punk. Sorrrryyy.

So anyone out there who reads this, I ask of you, please continue to pray. Pray for me, my husband, my Tommy, my family. It was those thoughts and prayers that saved us and pushed us through the first few weeks. Autopilot must be released. Now comes the hard part. And we still need help.

Tiny Angels

Tiny Angel

Tiny Angel rest your wings

sit with me for awhile.

How I long to hold your hand

and see your tender smile.

Tiny Angel, look at me,

I want this image clear...

That I will forget your precious face

is my biggest fear.

Tiny Angel can you tell me,

why have you gone away?

You weren't here for very long,

why is it that you couldn't stay?

Tiny Angel shook his head,

"These things I do not know...

But I do know that you love me,

and that I love you so".