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".

How sweet the sound

Today after I dropped off Tommy at school I was driving and put in a CD that had some of the music from Riley's memorial on it. I really do like the song, but it brought me right back to how I was feeling that day. There is a CD with orchestra music that is also in the car, and I can't listen to that without getting upset. It was the music I always played for Riley in the car when he would start to cry.

I just remember the day feeling so surreal. Who can ever imagine having to attend their children's funeral? I still can't fully fathom everything that happened, and little moments during the day will still overwhelm me with grief. I just feel like I should have been there, I should have stopped this from happening some how and that kills me.

The day of the funeral, I feel I only made it through by the grace of God. In my time of desperate need, a good friend from high school was there for me. Her support and prayers I know helped me function and keep looking up. As we walked out of the room in the back into the sanctuary, I remember thinking, "this isn't happening". Holding my husband's hand, we took our seats to say our goodbyes to our beloved son. I listened to the words of the pastor, reading off the family names. Then hearing my parents names, both passed away. That wrenched my heart.

I remember being so proud of my dear husband to be able to speak in front of the crowd the words from his heart. I silently urged him on, praying for Josh to have the strength and focus to do as he wanted to do.

Watching the slide show was like slow pinpricks deep into my heart. I loved those pictures, but to see them again was so hard. My baby is gone. I put the slide show together, and I was proud of myself for being able to accomplish that.
The remainder of the service went on like a slow blur. I held on to Josh, and was so thankful for my aunt being by my other side.

Before I knew it, it was over. The pastor walked down to shake our hands, and I was confused. Josh held my hand as we were led out into the front vestibule. I could hear Elvis singing Amazing Grace. I felt dead inside. I felt so light headed, I thought I was going to faint. I remember looking across the room and seeing a couch. My entire goal was to make it to the couch and sit down. But I never made it there. I was not prepared for what was going to happen next. Everything I was avoiding during the week culminated into an onslaught for that next hour. No one told me that we would be lined up for people to address us on their way out. I kept thinking it was like our wedding. But on the EXTREME opposite end of the scale. No happy hugs or well wishes. Instead countless sorrowful hugs and "I'm so sorry for you" a hundred times.
Not that I am not thankful for every one's support, I was just not prepared for this.

As the line formed and people continued on, I think at one point I said, "Next..." to someone I didn't know. Not very tasteful, I know, but I thought it was slightly humorous.
I was very overwhelmed with all the love and support, and my emotions let loose on a few people. I felt so drained, empty. This milestone now passed, what next?

I still feel that way. The days are zooming by, and I don't know what to do next.

Driven Mad and Crazy

So today I displayed another example of why I am still not normal. No comments from the peanut gallery needed.

What is normal? How long until I am normal again? I suppose after this event in our lives, we will have a new normal to define and create. And learn to live with. That's how grief works to me. I never seem to get over it, or move on from it. I just learn to get used to it. You learn to get used to your new reality, as soon as you can accept that your new reality even happened.

Along with everything else, Josh's car started having issues and was put into the shop right before Riley died. The warranty people are not going to cover it, and at this moment we do not know what we are going to do. The Jeep needs a new engine and it is going to cost a tremendous amount of money to fix. Sigh. I'm not trying to lead into another pity party, but it just really seems unfair. We have been showered with so much love and support these last couple of weeks, and for that I am very thankful. I just wish that we didn't have this problem to deal with as well.
I have had so much anxiety over this, but I have to trust that everything will work out alright.

In a desperate attempt, I purchased a scratch off ticket, hoping that I would win just enough to cover the cost of the repairs. That as I waved my hand over the glass case holding the tickets I would be led to the winning ticket. As much as I would love to report that was the case, nope. But, really? Do things ever work out like that? Josh said God doesn't play the lotto. It did feel a little pathetic to hope that my method would work.

I just don't feel right, just not normal. As mentioned above, my experience of un-normalcy. While we were running an errand today, we had an issue at one place. It was such a stupid issue, a price discrepancy. But I felt myself getting so mad that it took me by surprise. As I could feel my face redden, I knew that this was not an appropriate response to such a trivial thing. I could feel Josh awkwardly trying to dissuade the situation, and reel me back in. I was waiting for him to call me Janet, but instead he just calmly stated, "hmmm, I don't think that you are quite ready to return to work yet". He said that he felt I would "bludgeon someone with a 2X4" if they crossed me the wrong way. Me? Nooooo. Well? Hmmmm.

I feel tired, sad, frustrated, lonely at times, and empty. I feel like I have a missing puzzle piece that I just can't find. An itch I can't scratch. A craving I can't satisfy. If any of that makes sense. I feel lost with no purpose. I still feel like a failure as a parent.

And all of this drives me crazy.

Oh it hurts...

So today was a good day.

Josh and I started the day by dropping Tommy off at preschool. It was a funny conversation with the teacher, as Tommy had a rough weekend. After the fall at school Friday, Tommy then got a busted lip at a birthday party on Saturday from falling. Then on Sunday he learned a tough lesson...Don't get in a little dog's face, or you will get bit. So he was bit. So when we dropped him off, he looked a little worse for wear. And he was in SUPER grouch mode all weekend from a cold or allergies, and decided he no longer felt like taking medicine. It was very tiring.

I feel wrong getting mad at Tommy right now, like it breaks a rule or something. Not that we aren't still disciplining him, we may have been a wee bit more lenient lately, but we have some rules. I mean being mad or annoyed at him. It seems wrong, like he is the only child we have left, so how can I be annoyed with him? Sighhhhhhh

After dropping Tommy off, we went for a couples massage. It was a cheap price, and we got to have a nice morning together, holding hands across the massage room. Just kidding we didn't hold hands. We did hurt together, for as the day went on, the pain from the knots being rubbed in our tense muscles seemed to get worse and worse. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. We just move sorely right now, and say "ouch" every now and then.

We then ran a few errands, ate lunch, I purchased some beads for another jewelry project. And the beads were on sale, joy! And such beautiful weather today too!

While on the back porch, I got a text from a friend I hadn't talked to in a while. She was asking something about my work. I realized that she didn't know. And I didn't know how to tell her.
I felt a panic attack coming on, and took some Xanax. I really wanted to talk to her to see how she was doing, but I didn't want to tell her.

I called, we talked. She asked how I was. I said not good. I realized that in the past two weeks since Riley died, I had not broken the news to anyone. I have not had to say the words out loud. As we talked, I felt so sad, nervous, scared, and confused. What do you say? How should you say it? How do the words come out of your mouth? How and why?

So I said it, my baby boy Riley died. She was shocked, said she didn't know what to say. That's okay, I was used to hearing that. I was not as emotional as I thought I would have been, considering this milestone. But it hurt. It hurt to share this information, and as a fellow mother, I know she hurt hearing this information. Right now, nothing takes the pain away, I still miss him every moment.

But today, all considering, was a good day. Except Josh and I hurt, in more ways then one.

Sticky and Sucky

Sometimes I still can't believe this is real. How is this is my life. I am still hoping like crazy this is an awful nightmare, just dragging on forever.

I miss my little guy. Riley was supposed to be MY kiddo. Josh has Tommy, I had Riley. Josh and Tommy are so similar. Tommy came out of the womb with a tan, skin tone like Josh. He also entered the world very lazily, on his own terms, slowly being coaxed out. Sound like anyone we know? Tommy has an inherent competency with anything technological. I know this generation is born with technology, but he was attracted to it at an early age, and has shown a high aptitude for electronics. Just like Josh. A freight train could pass through the bedroom and neither of them would even startle. Tommy looks like Josh, acts like him, and I swear the other day, he turned to me and Josh's words and tone came out of his mouth. I know I birthed the kid, but I am lost in there.

Riley was supposed to be mine. He came out pasty white, quick and in a hurry. Three pushes and there he was. No coaxing needed, he was ready. He looked more like me. He was such a light sleeper, a light breeze would wake him. Just like me. He was crankier, fussier and ate all the time. No comment needed on those. I just knew he was going to love to read, love to learn, love to help others, and just be my kid.

What saddens me more is the lost future. I will never see him crawl, walk, or run. We will never celebrate birthdays, holidays, or achievements. There will be no "Baby's First Christmas" stocking hung on the mantle. I was at a birthday party for one of our friends little boy, and I couldn't help but think, "I will never be able to have a party for Riley".
UGGHH!!!! I just want to scream. It's not fair and it sucks.

I just feel so sad. I wish sadness was like water, and I could just shake it off and wring it out. But this sadness is more like sticky molasses. Sweet memories. Hard to wipe off.

I just want to hold him again.

Let's get ready!

I have two good friends that are pregnant right now, and I can't wait. I put my grief aside and I am so excited and anxious for them, one a new addition and one a new adventure. I can't wait for those wonderful women to have the next great experience in their lives. I just have to get ready.

At this moment in time, if I were handed a baby this second, I don't know what I would do, if I would be able to hold the baby. Right now, I feel as if I held a baby, my feelings would tornado inside, spinning everything into a mess. I don't know if I would scream to Josh, "Hurry, get the car!", or if the comparison to my lost love would be too strong to endure. Since Riley died, I have touched a baby. But I did not offer or want to hold him.

I reallllly need to get into counseling. I wish I had a secretary, someone to politely ask to make and keep my appointments and possibly retrieve me a few mugs of coffee. That is a great idea.

Last night I was full on d-e-p-r-e-s-s-e-d. I couldn't shake it. It is the most frustrating feeling to want to be lively, but there is a heavy veil over you, preventing you from doing anything but slug along. I thought going over to hang out a my brother's house would lift me out of the funk. It didn't. And to make matters worse (for me mentally), Tommy fell at Preschool and hit his head. He was then groggy, grumpy, and acting sensitive to light. What do you think goes on inside the mother of a child who is injured when she just lost a child? Ohhhh, hysterics. But I think I kept that bottled up pretty good. (Thank you Xanax. Hey, I ain't got no shame).
God did get an onslaught of prayers, bargains, and yelling from me though.

Today I feel better. I slept with Tommy last night, and woke up all night to check to make sure he was okay. Ironically, I feel more well rested. I love sleeping nestled with my little guy, smelling his hair. Wrapping my arm around him and kissing his soft smooth cheek, holding his little hand in mine.
Someday his cheek will have stubble, and his hand will be bigger then mine. And I will have to let him go. But I don't have to worry about that right now. Right now he still wants to cuddle with his mama, and let me kiss all over his face.
I love sleeping nestled with my little guy....until I get pushed out of bed. By strong tiny feet. Kneeling on the ground next to the bed, I look up at my boys. They have the same features, Tommy is Josh incarnate. I feel bursting with love for them.

Maybe that's the secret for having a better day. Wake up on the right side of the bed.

A new kind of tired

I feel so tired all day. I go to sleep feeling exhausted, and wake up feeling tired. It just seems no matter how many stimulating things I consume, I never seem to feel alert or fresh. This is a new tired. I have birthed two children, and have had countless sleepless nights, but I don't remember being this tired all the time.

I had a doctors appointment today was was prescribed anti-depressants. I still don't know how I feel about that, and I haven't yet filled the prescription. I am perplexed by antidepressants and how they work. I'm sure I can read numerous medical documents explaining the process, but it still seems odd to me.

I feel weak, both mentally and physically. I just want to spend all day lying in bed. I miss Riley so much. I have been told that grief is exhausting. I am so tired.