I want my friends and family to read this. I want those who know and love me to know my thoughts, feelings and struggles. But my hope for this site was that others who don't know me, but suffer the same struggles would find this site and make a connection. I am alone in a crowd, and I had hoped this blog would open up a line of communication to a crowd in which I would NOT be alone.
So far, this doesn't seem to be the case, and after reading a little bit of the book Silent Sorority, I am feelling a little hopeless again.
Finding CrossHeart Ministries as a support group probably saved my life. Knowing I wasn't alone in the unending grief of loss definitely helped keep me sane. Finding women who would listen and understand the pain I was suffering was an incredible release at a time when I had very little.
But it seems a little like I might have come full circle in some ways. I started reading Silent Sorority and at first I thought - hallelujah! This lady knows exactly how I feel! This lady totally gets the pain that comes with knowing I will never have kids. At first this was an awesome feeling. But I have come down from the high.
Currently she is the only one I have found that gets it. And since she is a celebrity and since she doesn't live in Memphis, it isn't a lot of help to hear her story. And more importantly, and the point of this rambling entry, is that it doesn't matter even if she was, or even if I did find other women who understand.
It won't change the outcome. It won't change the facts. I will still be childless. I will still not know the joy of giving birth to a living breathing part of my husband and me. I will still not know what it is to be a mother, to raise a child, to see my husband in my child's eyes or nose or smile. I will always only know how close I came and how cruelly that chance was literally ripped out of my body.
Although I have been pregnant, although I gave birth to a baby I never saw or held, I will never have a child. I will never truly be a mother.
No matter how many books I read, no matter how many women I meet, no matter how successful a support group is, no matter how many people I talk to, it will never change. It will never be different.
I will still never have a child.
The only people who will ever truly understand that pain, women who have come so close to the dream and had it ripped from their arms, are also the only people who understand that it doesn't matter if we meet each other - it wouldn't matter if there were a hundred of us in a room. It won't change.
I will still never have a child.
Monday, November 7, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
A perfect sister I am not, but thankful for the one I've got.
So you have heard me mention my sister, Glenna, and you will hear me mention her a million more times.I have the best sister in the world. I know lots of people say that, but mine really is. She has sacrificed for and invested in me just as much as she has her own two children. After my mother died, my sister totally took over taking care of me, when my dad was just too sad and confused to do it.
She was there when I had my first real kiss. She was there when I fell in love the first time. She was there the first time my heart was broken. She talked to me about things my mother would have talked to me about and my daddy never could. She stopped me from being stupid and she taught me to be smart. She taught me how to be resourceful, self-reliant, independent and confident. She is the perfect example of integrity, honesty, kindness and unselfishness. She exudes strength, determination and wisdom.
She cried when I tried on my wedding dress. She spent my last night being single with me. She stayed at my house for days after my wedding, decorating, buying me stuff we needed and leaving me sweet notes everywhere. She drove to Memphis to take care of me when I had surgery - twice. She has guided, led and advised me in every job trauma, change, upheaval, placement and resignation. She played peacemaker with Jimmy Ray and I during the roughest spot in our marriage because she loves Jimmy Ray too.
She was the first person we told, and almost wrecked her van when we told her I was pregnant. She bought me my first baby gift. She arranged the lunch at which we suprised my dad with the news. She fell apart and broke down crying when I told her John Preston had died. She drove most of the night to be here when he was born. She guarded the door and didn't let people into see me. She stayed for a week to take care of me.
She has listened for inumberable hours as I cried, ranted, raved, analyzed, over-analyzed, giggled, laughed, talked and talked and talked. She has shared her hardest and saddest moments with me.
There aren't words to describe all she has done for me. There aren't words to describe all she has done for her children, her friends, her family. There aren't words to describe the beautiful, incredible, delightful angel that she is.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Silent Sorority
I haven’t found anyone who doesn’t have any living children, has had a loss and will never have another chance. I have one friend who has one living child, one angel baby and can’t have any MORE children. But she at least has one living child. I have another friend who has 2 living children, and may or may not have more. The closest one I know has had multiple losses, and just found out she has a disease that means she has to be EXTREMELY careful if she gets pregnant again. I do have one friend who has never been pregnant, so no loss, and probably won’t have children but it is a decision that she and her husband have made based on age and their specific situation.
But I don’t know anyone that has no children, lost their only and can’t have anymore. I sure I have already said this and will probably say it a thousand more times, but it is really kind of the theme of my life. I am not in the club, I will never be in the club, and so far I am the ONLY one I know who isn’t in the club, but not by choice.
I want to start a support group for women like me…but I won’t have anyone there but myself!!! If you know of anyone who is like me, if you are like me – no matter where you are, please put me in contact or contact me!
I just bought a book called "Silent Sorority - A Barren Woman Gets Busy, Angry, Lost and Found" by Pamela Mahoney Tisgdinos. Maybe I will get some help and clarity and hope from this book
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
To Mother (from 'Captivating' by John & Stasi Eldredge
As large as the role our mothers have played, the word "mother" is more powerful when used as a verb than as a noun. All women are not mothers but all women are called to mother. To mother is to nurture, to train, to educate, to rear. As daughters of Eve, all women are uniquely gifted to help others in their lives become more of who they truly are - to encourage, nurture and mother them towards their true selves. In doing this, women partner with Christ in the vital mission of bringing forth life.The nurturing of life is a high and holy calling. And as a woman, it is yours. Yes, it takes many shapes and has a myriad of faces. Yes, men are called to this as well. But uniquely and deeply, this calling makes up part of the very fiber of a woman's soul - the calling to mother.
All women are called to mother. And all women are called to give birth. Women give birth to all kinds of things - to a book (it's nearly as hard as a child, believe me), to a church or to a movement. Women give birth to ideas, to creative expressions, to ministries. We birth life in others by inviting them into deeper realms of healing, to deeper walks with God, to deeper intimacy with Jesus. A woman is not less of a woman because she is not a wife or has not physically born a child. The heart and life of a woman is much vaster than that. All women are made in the image of God in that we bring forth life. When we enter into our world and into the lives of those we love and offer our tender and strong feminine hearts, we cannot help but mother them.
The capacity of a woman's heart for meaningful relationships is vast. There is no way your husband or your children can ever provide the intimacy and relational satisfaction you need. A woman must have women friends.
It is here, in the realm of relationship that women receive the most joy and the profoundest sorrows. The friendships of women inhabit a terrain of great mystery. There is a fierce jealousy, a fiery devotion and a great loyalty between women friends. Our friendships flow in the deep waters of the heart where God dwells and transformation takes place. It is here, in this holy place that a woman can partner with God in impacting another and be impacted by another for lasting good. It is here that she can mother, nurture, encourage and call forth Life.
To have a woman friend is to relax into another soul and be welcomed in all that you are and all that you are not. To know that, as a woman, you are not alone. Friendships between women provide a safe place to share in the experiences of life as a woman.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Frustration and Sadness
This post is not targeted at anyone. It is a general overview of the path my grief has taken. If you read this and get angry at me, that is your right. But my goal is not to hurt anyone, but to express my pain. I don’t want to sound ungrateful. We received a lot of cards, and I know a lot of people prayed for us. And we felt those prayers and were very thankful.
Many members of my family are not supportive. No one in my family (in-laws and immediate) except my sister and daddy ever say John Preston’s name.
Many of my previous friends weren’t supportive. No one gave me hand-made, thoughtful gifts - no one gave me gifts period after John Preston died. No one ever visited his gravesite after his burial.
But the average joe is clueless, and a lot of them want to stay that way. And although I can’t really blame them, it still hurts, it still makes me angry and it still makes it an extremely lonely grief.
I will tell you this…the friends who did / do support me, the friends who did stick around, the family members who do mention John Preston’s name…they will ALWAYS be important to me, and I will NEVER forget what they have done for me. I won’t list them here, even though I would love to. But it isn’t because I would hurt someone’s feeling who didn’t support me, but because I might forget to list someone who did. Not that I have forgotten them, but I might not think of them right this minute.
Sometimes I get really jealous of my friends who received gifts for their angel babies. Handmade gifts, purchased gifts, donations, memorials, people visiting the grave sites. The only thing that we got from anyone when John Preston died was a Christmas ornament at a memorial service that the funeral home performed for all the families who had lost someone buried by them during the year of 2008. My sister and niece and nephew made donations to St. Jude’s in memory of him. That’s it. Nothing else until his 3rd birthday this year from the board members of CrossHeart Ministries.
This is why it is so important to find a group like CrossHeart Ministries. The women I have met there understand my grief over the loss of my son. Many of them will never understand the emptiness that sometimes stretches out before us as a life without children. But they understand and validate that I have a son, that I am a mother, that my child was REAL, that he IS real, and that just because he is not here on earth with me doesn’t make him any less important than the children who are here on earth with their parents.
I wrote this not long ago to some of my friends after my first Grief Share session:
“One of the things that hit me was that in the midst of grief you find things to be grateful for. One of the things brought up was that as much as you hate to make friends this way, when you find people who have been through what you have been through, strong relationships are built on those shared experiences. And that is so awesome.
BUT, something I find even more amazing and to be honored and admired is this: the friends that haven't been through it, and don't totally know, but that stick around and suffer through it anyway because of their love and their empathy for the friend who is. It is easy for me to sit and listen endlessly to someone whose mom died when they were young because I relate to that, I understand that, I can empathize with it. It is much harder (and close to impossible) for me to sit and listen to someone who has lost their right arm. I don't understand that. I might think ‘why don't they just learn to use a prosthetic?’, or ‘why don't they just learn to write with their left hand?’. I don't understand the struggle that goes with that loss.. It would take ALOT for me to have the patience and the empathy and the energy to sit and listen to that person hurt and cry and bemoan their loss.
But those rare friends that haven’t been through what I have been through, still sat and listened to me cry, yell, talk, analyze, complain, whine, holler, pat myself on the back, criticize myself, criticize others, etc., etc. for hours and hours and hours on end without one complaint and with lots of understanding and patience and empathy and tears. I have made John Preston a huge part of my life, as I believe I should have. But it has cost me friendships because not everyone had that patience and empathy and they got tired of the John Preston Saga.
Not those friends. Nothing I have ever done deserves that kind of devotion and commitment. Only God sends that type of blessing to mere humans.
I am so thankful to those friends from the depths of my grief, pain, joy and heart. I selfishly cannot imagine my life without them, and can't ever possibly repay such devotion, love and selflessness as they showed me.”
Many members of my family are not supportive. No one in my family (in-laws and immediate) except my sister and daddy ever say John Preston’s name.
Many of my previous friends weren’t supportive. No one gave me hand-made, thoughtful gifts - no one gave me gifts period after John Preston died. No one ever visited his gravesite after his burial.
But the average joe is clueless, and a lot of them want to stay that way. And although I can’t really blame them, it still hurts, it still makes me angry and it still makes it an extremely lonely grief.
I will tell you this…the friends who did / do support me, the friends who did stick around, the family members who do mention John Preston’s name…they will ALWAYS be important to me, and I will NEVER forget what they have done for me. I won’t list them here, even though I would love to. But it isn’t because I would hurt someone’s feeling who didn’t support me, but because I might forget to list someone who did. Not that I have forgotten them, but I might not think of them right this minute.
Sometimes I get really jealous of my friends who received gifts for their angel babies. Handmade gifts, purchased gifts, donations, memorials, people visiting the grave sites. The only thing that we got from anyone when John Preston died was a Christmas ornament at a memorial service that the funeral home performed for all the families who had lost someone buried by them during the year of 2008. My sister and niece and nephew made donations to St. Jude’s in memory of him. That’s it. Nothing else until his 3rd birthday this year from the board members of CrossHeart Ministries.
This is why it is so important to find a group like CrossHeart Ministries. The women I have met there understand my grief over the loss of my son. Many of them will never understand the emptiness that sometimes stretches out before us as a life without children. But they understand and validate that I have a son, that I am a mother, that my child was REAL, that he IS real, and that just because he is not here on earth with me doesn’t make him any less important than the children who are here on earth with their parents.
I wrote this not long ago to some of my friends after my first Grief Share session:
“One of the things that hit me was that in the midst of grief you find things to be grateful for. One of the things brought up was that as much as you hate to make friends this way, when you find people who have been through what you have been through, strong relationships are built on those shared experiences. And that is so awesome.
BUT, something I find even more amazing and to be honored and admired is this: the friends that haven't been through it, and don't totally know, but that stick around and suffer through it anyway because of their love and their empathy for the friend who is. It is easy for me to sit and listen endlessly to someone whose mom died when they were young because I relate to that, I understand that, I can empathize with it. It is much harder (and close to impossible) for me to sit and listen to someone who has lost their right arm. I don't understand that. I might think ‘why don't they just learn to use a prosthetic?’, or ‘why don't they just learn to write with their left hand?’. I don't understand the struggle that goes with that loss.. It would take ALOT for me to have the patience and the empathy and the energy to sit and listen to that person hurt and cry and bemoan their loss.
But those rare friends that haven’t been through what I have been through, still sat and listened to me cry, yell, talk, analyze, complain, whine, holler, pat myself on the back, criticize myself, criticize others, etc., etc. for hours and hours and hours on end without one complaint and with lots of understanding and patience and empathy and tears. I have made John Preston a huge part of my life, as I believe I should have. But it has cost me friendships because not everyone had that patience and empathy and they got tired of the John Preston Saga.
Not those friends. Nothing I have ever done deserves that kind of devotion and commitment. Only God sends that type of blessing to mere humans.
I am so thankful to those friends from the depths of my grief, pain, joy and heart. I selfishly cannot imagine my life without them, and can't ever possibly repay such devotion, love and selflessness as they showed me.”
Saturday, October 15, 2011
TOTAL SUCCESS!!! A Walk to Remember will not be forgotten.
Saturday, October 8 WAS a walk to remember. We had over 100 people attend and walk. Over 65 balloons were released for all the sweet angel babies. It was a perfectly beautiful day, with a light cool breeze and sunshine at a beautiful park. I personally was suprised, overjoyed and intensely touched that my cousin, Murray, and his wife Jaime and my cousin, Melody, and her husband Brad attended along with my Uncle Leon who led the opening prayer for our ceremony. My other cousin (their brother), Michael and his wife Darla lost a baby girl over 10 years ago, and I was honored that Melody released a balloon for my little angel cousin, Hope McKenzie.
It was a bittersweet day in that it is overwhelmingly sad how many people need support, but healing and thrilling that they allow us to provide support for them!
I wasn't able to take any pictures, but Torrie from Seavers Photography took alot, and my friend Peggy Haguewood took a few of my family. Here are a few...
It was a bittersweet day in that it is overwhelmingly sad how many people need support, but healing and thrilling that they allow us to provide support for them!
I wasn't able to take any pictures, but Torrie from Seavers Photography took alot, and my friend Peggy Haguewood took a few of my family. Here are a few...
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| Our banner! |
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| Releasing John Preston's balloons. |
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| Tiffany releases balloons for several LAMBS who couldn't attend! |
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| We're in it together... |
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| In the forefront are our friends Tiffany and Brenden; in the center is my friend and co-worker Lani, who released a balloon for her angel baby sister, Vickie Lynn. |
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| Robin releases balloons for her 10 Baby Crosses, and for John David, her son. |
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| The CrossHeart Team (from left): Amy, Robin (our fearless leader), me, Ashley, Tiffany and Molly |
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| So many families affected! |
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| Jimmy Ray and I led the walk for John Preston! |
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| My little family... |
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My friend Lisa, who sponsored the set-up fee for our shirts, and her dad. Her mom took the picture!
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Friday, October 7, 2011
A Walk to Remember - Preparation
So tomorrow is one of my new norm favorites. It is the day that CrossHeart Ministries hold it's annual Walk to Remember in celebration of National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. As hard and as sad as it is that I have to be a part of this month and this day, it is an awesome day to celebrate the LIFE of my stillborn, but STILL BORN son, John Preston. Getting ready for (as a CHM board member) and looking forward to (as a Mommy to an Angel) this event, and then participating in the event as a mommy is totally worth the major emotional and physical exhaustion that will follow. But I will go every year for the rest of my life and be completely willing to suffer the consequences.
Here is a picture of our t-shirt.
I can't wait. My husband and I are going to lead the walk for John Preston. We will walk around the lake twice. Then we will release a balloon for him, along with 63 other parents of angel babies. We will be with people who understand us and our loss and our never ending pain and none of them will be uncomfortable or awkward and everyone will say John Preston's name without pause and no one will look at us like we have the plague. We will be in a situation in which for once we will be 'normal'.
Thank you Ronald Reagan for proclaiming this a National Day of Awareness. Thank you CrossHeart Ministries for hosting this event.
Thank you Robin Cross for finding me and throwing me the life saver that is CrossHeart Ministries.
Thank you Jimmy Ray Sloan for giving me the greatest gifts you could give me - your love and our son, John Preston.
Thank you God for all of it.
CrossHeart Ministries Second Annual Walk to Remember
Johnson Park in Collierville, TN
October 8, 2011 from 10:00am - Noon
Here is a picture of our t-shirt.
I can't wait. My husband and I are going to lead the walk for John Preston. We will walk around the lake twice. Then we will release a balloon for him, along with 63 other parents of angel babies. We will be with people who understand us and our loss and our never ending pain and none of them will be uncomfortable or awkward and everyone will say John Preston's name without pause and no one will look at us like we have the plague. We will be in a situation in which for once we will be 'normal'.
Thank you Ronald Reagan for proclaiming this a National Day of Awareness. Thank you CrossHeart Ministries for hosting this event.
Thank you Robin Cross for finding me and throwing me the life saver that is CrossHeart Ministries.
Thank you Jimmy Ray Sloan for giving me the greatest gifts you could give me - your love and our son, John Preston.
Thank you God for all of it.
CrossHeart Ministries Second Annual Walk to Remember
Johnson Park in Collierville, TN
October 8, 2011 from 10:00am - Noon
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
So, about my mom...
So I always tell the story of John Preston in the following manner:
Losing my son is most horrible thing that ever happened to me. I have had such a blessed life, a great family, a great support system growing up, a great church and youth group, a great husband, great in-laws. My life has been really good...oh except for my mom dying when I was 15.
THAT is why my therapist says I treat my mom's death as a side note in my life.
But since John Preston died alot of the emotions that I didn't feel at the time have surfaced. So here is the story.
When I was 12, my dad took a 2-year contract job in Saudia Arabia. He was there for about a year when my mom started having some stomach pains. He came home for a week in 1982 thinking he was going with her for some tests, but when they went in the doctor simply said "You need to stay home. Don't go back." She was diagnosed with colon cancer and given 3 months to live. I fell apart that night. She and my dad decided that they were going to try anything and everything so she put herself in a program for testing methods.
The doctors put a pump in her side that shot out chemo every hour or so. That didn't work. Except that every time we went to the mall it set off the sensors and she had to get out her little paper and show the mall cops.
Then daddy took her to a specialist in Germany under the guise of a European vacation for the family. That didn't work, but we had a wonderful time and made memories that will never be forgotten.
Then she did regular chemo and radiation. That didn't work, but after she lost all her hair it grew back twice as thick and twice as curly and gorgeous.
Daddy got a job at FedEx and mom had great insurance.
On Monday, July 30, 1984 mom went in for a regular check up. While she was there her veins collapsed. By Tuesday, July 31 she was in a coma. Thursday, August 2, 1994 she quietly passed away while my daddy, sister, brother and I stood around her bed singing to her. 10 minutes after she died, her parents, my grandparents stepped off the elevator at the hospital. My grandmother never spoke another word or at another bite.
Barely 2 weeks later on Wed, August 14, my grandparents were hit by a car crossing the street on their way home from church. My granddaddy's leg was broken, but my grandmother sustained severe head trauma. Exactly 2 weeks after my mother died, my grandmother died from that head injury.
My mother donated her body to science so we didn't have a funeral, but instead had a memorial service in Memphis, TN and then another in Knoxville, TN at the church where my parents had attended church for the 20 years previous to the 6 we had lived in Memphis before she died.
Apparently my parents didn't read the fine print in the contract with UT Medical Services, because in January of 1985, my dad received a call telling him that they were done with my mother's body and he could come pick her up. Talk about shock. My dad couldn't even comprehend it, and so my Uncle Leon (my mother's brother) took care of her. My dad didn't tell us about it at the time. It had only been a few months, things were just settling back to normal (or the new normal for us) and he felt like he should give us some time. The longer he waited the harder it got to bring it up and tell us.
So at our family Christmas get together in January of 2010, 1 year and 5months after John Preston died, my dad told us that our mother was buried in a plot at Historic Elmwood Cemetary in Memphis in the section dedicated to people who had done as my mother had done, and what my father still plans to do.
I am not sure how my brother and sister felt about it, but it was a good day for me. I thought he made the right decision to not tell us at the time - especially me, as I was only 15, a teenager with enough normal problems in addition to my mom being dead, to also have to imagine all of that. Maybe he shouldn't have waited 26 years. But also, I was glad to know there was a place to go where I could honor my mom, and have a place to go and spend quiet time dedicated just to her. It was quite a shock though.
So for the past 2 Mother's Days I have spent the day at my mother's grave and my son's grave. It's a little rough. One of the things I say to whoever will listen is that I didn't get to have a mom, and I don't get to be a mom. Those are the days that I get angry and bitter.
But then, again, I realize how blessed my life has been up until the loss of John Preston - with the exception of my mom dying of course.
Losing my son is most horrible thing that ever happened to me. I have had such a blessed life, a great family, a great support system growing up, a great church and youth group, a great husband, great in-laws. My life has been really good...oh except for my mom dying when I was 15.
THAT is why my therapist says I treat my mom's death as a side note in my life.
But since John Preston died alot of the emotions that I didn't feel at the time have surfaced. So here is the story.
When I was 12, my dad took a 2-year contract job in Saudia Arabia. He was there for about a year when my mom started having some stomach pains. He came home for a week in 1982 thinking he was going with her for some tests, but when they went in the doctor simply said "You need to stay home. Don't go back." She was diagnosed with colon cancer and given 3 months to live. I fell apart that night. She and my dad decided that they were going to try anything and everything so she put herself in a program for testing methods.
The doctors put a pump in her side that shot out chemo every hour or so. That didn't work. Except that every time we went to the mall it set off the sensors and she had to get out her little paper and show the mall cops.
Then daddy took her to a specialist in Germany under the guise of a European vacation for the family. That didn't work, but we had a wonderful time and made memories that will never be forgotten.
Then she did regular chemo and radiation. That didn't work, but after she lost all her hair it grew back twice as thick and twice as curly and gorgeous.
Daddy got a job at FedEx and mom had great insurance.
On Monday, July 30, 1984 mom went in for a regular check up. While she was there her veins collapsed. By Tuesday, July 31 she was in a coma. Thursday, August 2, 1994 she quietly passed away while my daddy, sister, brother and I stood around her bed singing to her. 10 minutes after she died, her parents, my grandparents stepped off the elevator at the hospital. My grandmother never spoke another word or at another bite.
Barely 2 weeks later on Wed, August 14, my grandparents were hit by a car crossing the street on their way home from church. My granddaddy's leg was broken, but my grandmother sustained severe head trauma. Exactly 2 weeks after my mother died, my grandmother died from that head injury.
My mother donated her body to science so we didn't have a funeral, but instead had a memorial service in Memphis, TN and then another in Knoxville, TN at the church where my parents had attended church for the 20 years previous to the 6 we had lived in Memphis before she died.
Apparently my parents didn't read the fine print in the contract with UT Medical Services, because in January of 1985, my dad received a call telling him that they were done with my mother's body and he could come pick her up. Talk about shock. My dad couldn't even comprehend it, and so my Uncle Leon (my mother's brother) took care of her. My dad didn't tell us about it at the time. It had only been a few months, things were just settling back to normal (or the new normal for us) and he felt like he should give us some time. The longer he waited the harder it got to bring it up and tell us.
So at our family Christmas get together in January of 2010, 1 year and 5months after John Preston died, my dad told us that our mother was buried in a plot at Historic Elmwood Cemetary in Memphis in the section dedicated to people who had done as my mother had done, and what my father still plans to do.
I am not sure how my brother and sister felt about it, but it was a good day for me. I thought he made the right decision to not tell us at the time - especially me, as I was only 15, a teenager with enough normal problems in addition to my mom being dead, to also have to imagine all of that. Maybe he shouldn't have waited 26 years. But also, I was glad to know there was a place to go where I could honor my mom, and have a place to go and spend quiet time dedicated just to her. It was quite a shock though.
So for the past 2 Mother's Days I have spent the day at my mother's grave and my son's grave. It's a little rough. One of the things I say to whoever will listen is that I didn't get to have a mom, and I don't get to be a mom. Those are the days that I get angry and bitter.
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| Mother's Day 2011 with John Preston |
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| Mother's Day 2010 with my mother, the first in 26 years. |
But then, again, I realize how blessed my life has been up until the loss of John Preston - with the exception of my mom dying of course.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Part 3 of 3 of an awesome October 2, 2011
So although this day has had some hard moments, it has mostly been filled with joy. And it just keeps getting better. We went to the zoo - and of course Brad paid for ALL of us to get into the zoo cause he is just awesome like that. (Jimmy Ray paid for breakfast, Glenna paid for lunch, Brad paid for gas and zoo, Glenna paid for dinner, JR paid for coffee. It was a Battle of the Payers. I of course got away scott free!!!) Anyway, we had the best time. We ate greasy burgers and corn dogs for lunch. Then we went into the "animals of the night" exhibit - awch! It stunk, but was still pretty cool. I thought for sure I'd have nightmares. We saw the polar bears, the alligators, the monkeys, the gorillas...
(A baby started crying while we were sitting there watching this female silver back. When she heard the baby she started making cooing noises similiar to what human women make for their own babies. It was sweet / surreal / freaky.)
...the zebras, the giraffes (including a baby one!), the lions...
(She was lying down and then all of a sudden got up and hopped up on the log like she heard or saw something excited. I am glad she wasn't looking at me!)
We ended the day with a ridiculously yummy dinner at Colton's steakhouse. Then we came back to our house, hung out for awhile and then Glenna and Brad hit the road at 9:30pm!
I cried as they rode out the driveway, but it was so worth it and we had the best time. It was a much needed break from the heaviness that had been my heart this past week. My sister is the second greatest person on earth (the first being Jimmy Ray, of course). We always have so much fun with them as couples.
What an awesome awesome fun bittersweet exciting hilarious weekend! Thanks Brad and Glenna for driving up for the day to be with us. Thanks Jimmy Ray for taking a RARE day off to spend with me and my favorite people.
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(A baby started crying while we were sitting there watching this female silver back. When she heard the baby she started making cooing noises similiar to what human women make for their own babies. It was sweet / surreal / freaky.)
...the zebras, the giraffes (including a baby one!), the lions...
(She was lying down and then all of a sudden got up and hopped up on the log like she heard or saw something excited. I am glad she wasn't looking at me!)
...and the coolest experience for me ever at a zoo was when we saw the grizzly bears.
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| Yes, that is a real, live, grizzly bear. No, there is no glass between me and the bear. No, this is not a telephoto lens. Yes, that is a real live grizzly bear less than 3 feet from my EYE. Coolest picture I will probably ever take! |
We ended the day with a ridiculously yummy dinner at Colton's steakhouse. Then we came back to our house, hung out for awhile and then Glenna and Brad hit the road at 9:30pm!
I cried as they rode out the driveway, but it was so worth it and we had the best time. It was a much needed break from the heaviness that had been my heart this past week. My sister is the second greatest person on earth (the first being Jimmy Ray, of course). We always have so much fun with them as couples.
What an awesome awesome fun bittersweet exciting hilarious weekend! Thanks Brad and Glenna for driving up for the day to be with us. Thanks Jimmy Ray for taking a RARE day off to spend with me and my favorite people.
Part 2 of 3 of an awesome October 2, 2011 ...
After visiting John Preston, we went to mid-town and ate lunch at a cool, funky, yummy eatery called 'Cafe Eclectic' which has an awesome brunch on Sundays. I highly recommend it!!!!
Then we all went to visit my mom's gravesite at Elmwood Cemetary (currently the website is all about halloween, but it is a beautiful and historic cemetary). I have been several times so it doesn't really get to me as much (plus, as my therapist says, I sometimes refer to my mother's death as a 'side note' in my life...but that is a whole nother post!). But it was very emotional for my sister. I think especially with all the changes going on in her life - she's fixing to get married, Ryan is fixing to get married, Megan is zooming through college, etc. But anyway, it was a bittersweet and terribly beautiful visit.
After this we headed to the zoo!
Then we all went to visit my mom's gravesite at Elmwood Cemetary (currently the website is all about halloween, but it is a beautiful and historic cemetary). I have been several times so it doesn't really get to me as much (plus, as my therapist says, I sometimes refer to my mother's death as a 'side note' in my life...but that is a whole nother post!). But it was very emotional for my sister. I think especially with all the changes going on in her life - she's fixing to get married, Ryan is fixing to get married, Megan is zooming through college, etc. But anyway, it was a bittersweet and terribly beautiful visit.
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| Glenna and Brad with the flowers we brought. |
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| Me and my sister. |
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| The beautiful live roses that Glenna and Brad brought. |
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| The flowers Jimmy Ray and I bought along with the roses. |
Part 1 of 3 of an awesome October 2, 2011...
My sister (Glenna, who will someday have a whole entire post written about her) and her fiance (Brad, who is the most awesome thing for her, and who I adore!) were here this past Sunday AND Jimmy Ray got to take off almost the whole day to spend with us!
First we went to visit John Preston. They surprised me with the cutest gift for him, and we stayed for a nice little visit!
First we went to visit John Preston. They surprised me with the cutest gift for him, and we stayed for a nice little visit!
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| Here is Aunt Glenna and soon-to-be-Uncle Brad with JP. |
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| I don't know if you can see it or not, but the flowers are in a little orange pumpkin shaped pot that has an aqua blue flower with an aqua blue ribbon with orange polka dots. |
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| The little blue cross was given to John Preston on his third birthday by my awesome friend Ashley, and the little cow is from me and Jimmy Ray on this visit. It's a mama cow. |
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| My only eartly connection :( but it's such a joy to have visitors there! |
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| And of course, Mommy and Daddy. We love you John Preston! |
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Retail Therapy and Fun...necessities of life.
So last week was a really hard week. I got angry, bitter, morose, sad and felt sorry for myself.
THEN...
I went shopping and bought 8 new skirts, 3 shirts, a pair of rollerblades (NOT for me), and a pair of shoes for $40 (yes that is less than $3 per items - including 2 Talbot items, both for less than $1.50 - with the tags still on) at my favorite thrift store with my friend Jamie and her daughter Jillian. Then I ordered and received a $300 color printer, fax, scanner and copier for FREE. Then I got to go to Hobby Lobby and buy stuff to make a friend a bracelet, some things to take up to John Preston's grave site and some flowers to take to my mother's grave site. Then Jimmy Ray and I went to Walmart and shopped just for fun. Didn't buy a whole lot, but just the act of shopping and buying works for me!
Getting to spend time with Jamie is always fun and crazy. She is one of those precious few friends who will talk about John Preston, say his name, ask me about my memories. She will even talk with me about they day we found out that he was no longer alive and all of the details (and I mean ALL...achk) from the 24 hours I was in the hospital.
And of course, anytime Jimmy Ray and I can go do something together is precious to me. As a dairy farmer, he isn't around as much as the average working bear. I think part of why our relationship is so strong is that because we know the time we have together is limited and we make the most of it. We don't see each other from 5pm on every weekday evening, we don't spend the whole day together on Sat and Sun. I see him for about 2 hours every day, maybe 6 on Sat and Sun - and only then if they aren't planting or harvesting beans and corn, hauling silage (corn chopped up for feed), cutting hay or fixing equipment bigger than my house.
And today, my sister and her fiance are coming into town to hang out with us and Jimmy Ray is taking most of the day off and we are going to visit John Preston, visit my mom's site, eat brunch in midtown and go to the zoo!
So instead of blogging this week, I have been shopping, playing and living. All of those things are amazingly helpful at healing (or possibly just postponing) some of the pain. But either way, at the very least, they are a great way to get a break from myself!
THEN...
I went shopping and bought 8 new skirts, 3 shirts, a pair of rollerblades (NOT for me), and a pair of shoes for $40 (yes that is less than $3 per items - including 2 Talbot items, both for less than $1.50 - with the tags still on) at my favorite thrift store with my friend Jamie and her daughter Jillian. Then I ordered and received a $300 color printer, fax, scanner and copier for FREE. Then I got to go to Hobby Lobby and buy stuff to make a friend a bracelet, some things to take up to John Preston's grave site and some flowers to take to my mother's grave site. Then Jimmy Ray and I went to Walmart and shopped just for fun. Didn't buy a whole lot, but just the act of shopping and buying works for me!
Getting to spend time with Jamie is always fun and crazy. She is one of those precious few friends who will talk about John Preston, say his name, ask me about my memories. She will even talk with me about they day we found out that he was no longer alive and all of the details (and I mean ALL...achk) from the 24 hours I was in the hospital.
And of course, anytime Jimmy Ray and I can go do something together is precious to me. As a dairy farmer, he isn't around as much as the average working bear. I think part of why our relationship is so strong is that because we know the time we have together is limited and we make the most of it. We don't see each other from 5pm on every weekday evening, we don't spend the whole day together on Sat and Sun. I see him for about 2 hours every day, maybe 6 on Sat and Sun - and only then if they aren't planting or harvesting beans and corn, hauling silage (corn chopped up for feed), cutting hay or fixing equipment bigger than my house.
And today, my sister and her fiance are coming into town to hang out with us and Jimmy Ray is taking most of the day off and we are going to visit John Preston, visit my mom's site, eat brunch in midtown and go to the zoo!
So instead of blogging this week, I have been shopping, playing and living. All of those things are amazingly helpful at healing (or possibly just postponing) some of the pain. But either way, at the very least, they are a great way to get a break from myself!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Better, not bitter, not best.
I am inconsolably sad today and tonight. I wish I wasn't. There is so much new and exciting and good in my life. Sometimes I feel sooo guilty about being sad about John Preston and about being childless. But I was talking to my friend Suzanne the other and she was pointing out that God made women to have babies. I mentioned this in my "The Sharp Knife of a Short Life" post. So this longing that I have won't ever go away because it will never be fulfilled. I miss my son so much. But I miss, maybe even more, what will never be. I will never know what it is to feel a baby kicking in my stomach. I will never know what it is like to have my water break in a restaurant. I will never know what is like to give birth. I will never know what it is to love someone so much I would give my life for them. I will never know what it is like to hold a baby that my husband and I made in love and that is literally a part of me. I will never know what it is like to have a baby shower, to buy baby furniture or pick out car seats and use that gun thingy at Target to pick out the clothes and bottles and blankets and booties, to see my husband cry when he holds his living, breathing son in his arms. It will always hurt when I someone anounces their pregnancy, I will always hurt when I see a pregnant woman, it will always hurt when I see a new born baby. It will always hurt when I am the only one at the table, in the car, at the gathering who isn't able to join in the conversation because I don't have a child to be proud of, complain about, brag on or roll my eyes about. I will never be in the club.
When you look forward in your life and see that emptiness, and know that it will never go away, it is so hard to get up in the morning, to smile, to function, to even care about doing any of that. I just wanted to have a baby like everyone else. I will never understand why that had to be the way it is.
I guarantee that it would be the first question I ask Jesus if I was able to talk to before dying. I have to believe that once I die and am in heaven it won't matter why anymore. But I just wish, He would send me a letter and explain it.
When you look forward in your life and see that emptiness, and know that it will never go away, it is so hard to get up in the morning, to smile, to function, to even care about doing any of that. I just wanted to have a baby like everyone else. I will never understand why that had to be the way it is.
I guarantee that it would be the first question I ask Jesus if I was able to talk to before dying. I have to believe that once I die and am in heaven it won't matter why anymore. But I just wish, He would send me a letter and explain it.
Better today...
I am still sad beyond measure today.
But this morning on the way to work, there was this huge traffic jam. It turned out to be some horrible awful wreck. I started thinking about yesterday's post, and I had the craziest thought. If I die in an accident today, people who read my blog are going to think I died a bitter woman.
I am not a bitter woman. I have an awesome life. So please know that if I bite it before my next post, I died happy.
But this morning on the way to work, there was this huge traffic jam. It turned out to be some horrible awful wreck. I started thinking about yesterday's post, and I had the craziest thought. If I die in an accident today, people who read my blog are going to think I died a bitter woman.
I am not a bitter woman. I have an awesome life. So please know that if I bite it before my next post, I died happy.
Monday, September 26, 2011
To quote my friend Molly - it's been a bitter kind of day...
As if it isn't hard enough that I have to be around pregnant women all the time, as if it isn't enough that I will never be one of those, as if it isn't hard enough to listen to people talk about trying to get pregnant...i had to witness someone's water breaking tonight. I am not mad at her. I don't blame her or hold it against her. I hold it against the universe, and yes sometimes I hold it against God. Okay, so I get the whole intentional will, circumstantial will and ultimate will. But seriously, he doesn't have enough control to have done a little and push her water breaking back 20 minutes when I would have been gone?
I try not to be bitter. I know 2 or 3 old women who are bitter, 2 of them are bitter against children because they never had any. I don't want to be those women. I want to be a nice old lady who likes kids and bakes cookied for them.
But this kind of thing makes it really really really hard. God, give me a frickin' break. Quit rubbing it in. I just hate it all the time. It's hard enough to have lost my son, that pain will never go away but lessens with time. The fact that I will never have another child will NEVER lessen. It will NEVER go away. It will NEVER get better. Every time I see a pregnant woman, a baby or someone's water breaking it breaks my heart. Every single time.
It's hole in my heart the size of Texas. No the size of Alaska. Nothing will ever fill it up. I am so angry and hurt and sad and hurting right now.
I understand this isn't a positive or pleasant post. If you want to judge me or preach at me, don't post it. I don't care right now. Tomorrow I will be fine probably. Tomorrow I will be positive probably. But let me grieve in my way for this post.
I try not to be bitter. I know 2 or 3 old women who are bitter, 2 of them are bitter against children because they never had any. I don't want to be those women. I want to be a nice old lady who likes kids and bakes cookied for them.
But this kind of thing makes it really really really hard. God, give me a frickin' break. Quit rubbing it in. I just hate it all the time. It's hard enough to have lost my son, that pain will never go away but lessens with time. The fact that I will never have another child will NEVER lessen. It will NEVER go away. It will NEVER get better. Every time I see a pregnant woman, a baby or someone's water breaking it breaks my heart. Every single time.
It's hole in my heart the size of Texas. No the size of Alaska. Nothing will ever fill it up. I am so angry and hurt and sad and hurting right now.
I understand this isn't a positive or pleasant post. If you want to judge me or preach at me, don't post it. I don't care right now. Tomorrow I will be fine probably. Tomorrow I will be positive probably. But let me grieve in my way for this post.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
The Sharp Knife of a Short Life...
Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and
Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby
The sharp knife of a short life.
I couldn't believe it when I heard those words pop out of a song that I had been listening to for 2 years. I had sung along with it a hundred times, and never once actually HEARD the words.
It's comforting, heartbreaking, anger-inducing, and completely accurate.
I think that when you lose a child (and I repeat, regardless of when..2 weeks along in your pregancy, at 2 years or 20 years old), the best description of the feeling would be that someone has cut our you heart, lungs, and will to live with a very dull and very dirty knife.
I remember days when I thought I cdouldn't get any air in my lungs. Like a panic attack, without the panic. I just couldn't seem to miss my child, think about life without him and breathe all at the same time. It was too overwhelming. I remember days when I thought my heart would either stop beating because it hurt - physically hurt - so badly in my chest or beat right of my chest because when I cried it would feel like it was beating 500 beats per minute. I remember days when I thought "I just wish it would stop beating". I would NEVER kill myself...I am too afraid of hurting Jimmy Ray, of dying period, or of missing out on something here on earth. But if my heart just stopped beating on its own... I remember days when I thought "What's the purpose?". Man (especially woMAN) was put here on earth to procreate. That is what a woman's boby is MADE to do, it's WHAT we do. So what did I have to look forward to? What did I strive for? What do I do with my life now?
I think that I have found those answers in CrossHeart Ministries. But that is now.
Back in 2008 and through most of 2009, I didn't think there were answers. I was completely hopeless. My whole body hurt with longing for my baby boy. Every single thing about babies and children made me cry - the motorized mini-Jeep at Wal-mart, the cowboy decor at Hobby Lobby, the baby clothes at Target, the Children's Tylenol at Kroger, and even my niece's highschool graduation. I would never get to buy those things or experience those things. I would never celebrate a child's first steps, graduation, wedding or the birth of their children.
Jimmy Ray and I traded in our much-loved truck for an SUV to save money on gas and to have a car that was more car-seat friendly. I HATE that SUV now. The week before we found out John Preston was gone, we went on a celebratory, last-time-as-a-couple vacation trip. I CAN'T and WON'T look at pictures from that trip. We looked at cribs and baby clothes and strollers and all the cool things that people with babies buy that were new to us. I will go all the way around the entire store at Target or Wal-mart or anywhere to miss the baby section. And all of that is still today, over 3 years later!!!
But I think about that rainbow that I took a picture of last week and believe that John Preston is shining down one me. I know that he is safe in the arms of Jesus. And those things give me peace and comfort.
Most of the time.
But life ain't always what you think it ought to be...especially when you experience the sharp knife of such a short, tiny life.
She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and
Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby
The sharp knife of a short life.
I couldn't believe it when I heard those words pop out of a song that I had been listening to for 2 years. I had sung along with it a hundred times, and never once actually HEARD the words.
It's comforting, heartbreaking, anger-inducing, and completely accurate.
I think that when you lose a child (and I repeat, regardless of when..2 weeks along in your pregancy, at 2 years or 20 years old), the best description of the feeling would be that someone has cut our you heart, lungs, and will to live with a very dull and very dirty knife.
I remember days when I thought I cdouldn't get any air in my lungs. Like a panic attack, without the panic. I just couldn't seem to miss my child, think about life without him and breathe all at the same time. It was too overwhelming. I remember days when I thought my heart would either stop beating because it hurt - physically hurt - so badly in my chest or beat right of my chest because when I cried it would feel like it was beating 500 beats per minute. I remember days when I thought "I just wish it would stop beating". I would NEVER kill myself...I am too afraid of hurting Jimmy Ray, of dying period, or of missing out on something here on earth. But if my heart just stopped beating on its own... I remember days when I thought "What's the purpose?". Man (especially woMAN) was put here on earth to procreate. That is what a woman's boby is MADE to do, it's WHAT we do. So what did I have to look forward to? What did I strive for? What do I do with my life now?
I think that I have found those answers in CrossHeart Ministries. But that is now.
Back in 2008 and through most of 2009, I didn't think there were answers. I was completely hopeless. My whole body hurt with longing for my baby boy. Every single thing about babies and children made me cry - the motorized mini-Jeep at Wal-mart, the cowboy decor at Hobby Lobby, the baby clothes at Target, the Children's Tylenol at Kroger, and even my niece's highschool graduation. I would never get to buy those things or experience those things. I would never celebrate a child's first steps, graduation, wedding or the birth of their children.
Jimmy Ray and I traded in our much-loved truck for an SUV to save money on gas and to have a car that was more car-seat friendly. I HATE that SUV now. The week before we found out John Preston was gone, we went on a celebratory, last-time-as-a-couple vacation trip. I CAN'T and WON'T look at pictures from that trip. We looked at cribs and baby clothes and strollers and all the cool things that people with babies buy that were new to us. I will go all the way around the entire store at Target or Wal-mart or anywhere to miss the baby section. And all of that is still today, over 3 years later!!!
But I think about that rainbow that I took a picture of last week and believe that John Preston is shining down one me. I know that he is safe in the arms of Jesus. And those things give me peace and comfort.
Most of the time.
But life ain't always what you think it ought to be...especially when you experience the sharp knife of such a short, tiny life.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Please visit my CrossHeart Ministries page for more info...
about our current and upcoming support groups.
"If all I ever have is you...it's enough."
That was the first coherent sentence I think my husband uttered after we found out we had lost our only son.
My first coherent sentence had been "my biggest fear is that we won't know how to deal and we will get divorced!". This was even bigger than my fear of never having children. (I have heard horror stories about people getting divorced after a loss like this either because neither of the spouses could move on or they just grieved so differently they couldn't lean on each, etc.!)
And that was his response - "If all I ever have is you...it's enough." What an incredible testament to my husband's commitment to and love for me; to our marriage; to God; and to John Preston!
It's true that we grieve differently. Jimmy Ray grieves quietly and privately. I grieve loudly, enthusiastically and sometimes angrily. The key is that we respect each other's way of grieving. I'm okay with those difference because when I am falling aprt and crying hysterically or cursing and ranting and raving or searching for my own way of 'productive grieving', he listens to me, he holds me, he comforts me, and he supports me. He still misses our son desperately, just as I do. And as long as I remember that, I can respect whatever way he decides to grieve as I know he will respect mine.
My first coherent sentence had been "my biggest fear is that we won't know how to deal and we will get divorced!". This was even bigger than my fear of never having children. (I have heard horror stories about people getting divorced after a loss like this either because neither of the spouses could move on or they just grieved so differently they couldn't lean on each, etc.!)
And that was his response - "If all I ever have is you...it's enough." What an incredible testament to my husband's commitment to and love for me; to our marriage; to God; and to John Preston!
It's true that we grieve differently. Jimmy Ray grieves quietly and privately. I grieve loudly, enthusiastically and sometimes angrily. The key is that we respect each other's way of grieving. I'm okay with those difference because when I am falling aprt and crying hysterically or cursing and ranting and raving or searching for my own way of 'productive grieving', he listens to me, he holds me, he comforts me, and he supports me. He still misses our son desperately, just as I do. And as long as I remember that, I can respect whatever way he decides to grieve as I know he will respect mine.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
The worth of a book is to be measured by what you can carry away from it. ~James Bryce
I am almost finished with a book that might have saved my soul and changed my perspective on my spirituality. 'The Will of God' by Leslie Weatherhead.
It was during the tumultuous era of World War II that Leslie Weatherhead preached five sermons on understanding the will of God for the congregation at City Temple London
I don't normally read this kind of book. I'm a murder, mystery, suspense book kind of girl normally, definitely not a resource, relationship, spiritual, learning book girl.
But a friend of mine mentioned it, and gave me a brief description of it. Something about it grabbed my attention, so I thought - it's short, interesting - I think I will try it.
It has changed my life.
After we lost John Preston, one of the stupid things people said (as happens in any grief situation) was that it was God's will that he died. They didn't say it quite that directly, but things like "maybe he was an invalid", or "God has a plan" or "God never makes a mistake" or sometimes maybe that directly "it must have been God's will for some reason".
That's a load of crap. God didn't want my son to die. He didn't kill my son cause there was something wrong with him. He didn't want our hearts broken to pieces. His intentional will is that I don't suffer, that I have peace, that I have what I need. His circumstantial will is that there is evil in the world caused by satan, and he has to circumvent that evil in order to reach his intentional will. His ultimate will is that I join Him in heaven.
I just think you should READ it!
"The phrase "the will of God" is used loosely, says Leslie Weatherhead, and the consequence of that looseness to our peace of mind is serious. Weatherhead's recognition of this problem led him to write The Will of God, a classic that has helped more than a million grieving persons better understand the meaning of the phrase. It can help you as well.
I don't normally read this kind of book. I'm a murder, mystery, suspense book kind of girl normally, definitely not a resource, relationship, spiritual, learning book girl.
But a friend of mine mentioned it, and gave me a brief description of it. Something about it grabbed my attention, so I thought - it's short, interesting - I think I will try it.
It has changed my life.
After we lost John Preston, one of the stupid things people said (as happens in any grief situation) was that it was God's will that he died. They didn't say it quite that directly, but things like "maybe he was an invalid", or "God has a plan" or "God never makes a mistake" or sometimes maybe that directly "it must have been God's will for some reason".
That's a load of crap. God didn't want my son to die. He didn't kill my son cause there was something wrong with him. He didn't want our hearts broken to pieces. His intentional will is that I don't suffer, that I have peace, that I have what I need. His circumstantial will is that there is evil in the world caused by satan, and he has to circumvent that evil in order to reach his intentional will. His ultimate will is that I join Him in heaven.
I just think you should READ it!
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
"You've let this become your life..."
Someone said that to me about my 'obsession' (their words not mine) with John Preston, my loss and indirectly CrossHeart Ministries.
Guess what? It IS my life. I had no choice in the matter. I didn't choose to lose my son, but here I am dealing and coping with it...in MY way.
Aren't your children YOUR life? Didn't having kids change your life, your outlook, your behavior, your thoughts, your dreams, your goals, your everything? Well my son changed mine in the same way. He isn't here, I can't hold him, I don't have to take him to soccer practice. But I did have a son, he is my son, I am a mother and I think about and miss him every second of everyday. Just as you would if your 2-day, 2-week, 2-month, 2-year or 20-year-old child died suddenly, without any explanation. You watch your child do new things every day, I dream about what my child would be doing every day.
Guess what? It IS my life. I had no choice in the matter. I didn't choose to lose my son, but here I am dealing and coping with it...in MY way.
Aren't your children YOUR life? Didn't having kids change your life, your outlook, your behavior, your thoughts, your dreams, your goals, your everything? Well my son changed mine in the same way. He isn't here, I can't hold him, I don't have to take him to soccer practice. But I did have a son, he is my son, I am a mother and I think about and miss him every second of everyday. Just as you would if your 2-day, 2-week, 2-month, 2-year or 20-year-old child died suddenly, without any explanation. You watch your child do new things every day, I dream about what my child would be doing every day.
Before you say “You’ve let this become your life” or “You are obsessed about your loss” to some friend who has had a loss, take a look at your own child and think how you feel about them. Then remember that those of who have been through a loss, that we have the same feelings every day on TOP of the grief we deal with every day.
So no, I am not ‘over’ it, I will never be ‘over’ it. And yes, I am ‘obsessed’ with my son, yes, I do focus much of my energy on his memory. But he WAS the most amazing thing that ever happened to me, and I will ALWAYS notice that he isn’t here with me.
Monday, September 19, 2011
The last safe place...
I remember the last hours before John Preston was born. We checked into the hospital at about 9:00pm. My sister, who in another post you will find out essentially raised me, drove up from Nashville and arrived at 11:30pm. From the time that she got there until John Preston was born I was in what I think was a "sadly hopeful cocoon". Until he was born and they took him away, it wasn't real that he was gone, they could be wrong, I was still going to give birth, I was a mommy and I was wholly and completely being taken care of by my knight, my sister-mom and nurses. I was on morphine and drifting in and out of sleep and having still peaceful dreams. My aunt and uncle came by to visit.
As horrible as the truth was, those last few hours still felt safe. Nothing has ever felt safe since then. I worry about Jimmy Ray dying, about my sister dying, about my daddy dying. I worry about dying and leaving Jimmy Ray and my sister to cope with that. I am constantly on alert about where I am going and who is going to be there and what the 'babyland' level will be. I am afraid to go anywhere without Kleenex. I am afraid that my house will burn down and I will lose the only physical things I have that connect me to John Preston (his hand and foot mold, his Christmas ornament provided by the funeral home, my computer with the pictures of me pregnant, of his sunlit gravesite, etc.). I am afraid that people will forget about him, that people will ask about and him, that people won't ask about him, that someday I might possibly not think of him every minute or hour or day. I am afraid that one day Jimmy Ray and I will be 2 old folks without anyone to take care of, or visit, or notice us. And then that one of us will be left all alone without even each other.
And then I hear a song like "I Can Only Imagine" (Mercy Me) or "Unclouded Day" (favorite: Broken Bridges soundtrack version) and something inside me calms down. And I can function and I can breath and I can live.
One of the options that the doctor gave us 2 days before his birth was that the hospital could take care of 'it' (his body!) for us. We didn't know what to do about anything at that point and originally said okay to that. How horrific. Sometime during the night Jimmy Ray held my hand and said "I don't want to throw away my son".
I will never feel totally safe again - and maybe we shouldn't on this earth. In those last few hours, when there was hope and a dream, I was cocooned in that last safe place.
As horrible as the truth was, those last few hours still felt safe. Nothing has ever felt safe since then. I worry about Jimmy Ray dying, about my sister dying, about my daddy dying. I worry about dying and leaving Jimmy Ray and my sister to cope with that. I am constantly on alert about where I am going and who is going to be there and what the 'babyland' level will be. I am afraid to go anywhere without Kleenex. I am afraid that my house will burn down and I will lose the only physical things I have that connect me to John Preston (his hand and foot mold, his Christmas ornament provided by the funeral home, my computer with the pictures of me pregnant, of his sunlit gravesite, etc.). I am afraid that people will forget about him, that people will ask about and him, that people won't ask about him, that someday I might possibly not think of him every minute or hour or day. I am afraid that one day Jimmy Ray and I will be 2 old folks without anyone to take care of, or visit, or notice us. And then that one of us will be left all alone without even each other.
And then I hear a song like "I Can Only Imagine" (Mercy Me) or "Unclouded Day" (favorite: Broken Bridges soundtrack version) and something inside me calms down. And I can function and I can breath and I can live.
One of the options that the doctor gave us 2 days before his birth was that the hospital could take care of 'it' (his body!) for us. We didn't know what to do about anything at that point and originally said okay to that. How horrific. Sometime during the night Jimmy Ray held my hand and said "I don't want to throw away my son".
I will never feel totally safe again - and maybe we shouldn't on this earth. In those last few hours, when there was hope and a dream, I was cocooned in that last safe place.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Terribly Beautiful...
I attended 'Chrysilis' (sp?) at Leawood Baptist Church today with Robin. It was a ladies' day with a speaker, singing, lunch and information and craft booths. They graciously allowed us to set up a booth for CrossHeart MInistries, and we were able to share our ministry with some very sweet and compassionate women. Someone was talking about the birth of their sleeping baby and saying that that day was the best and worst day of their lives. And that phrase just popped in my head. It is so totally and absolutely and perfectly descriptive of that day. Terribly beautiful.
What a great morning we had visiting with these ladies! Thank you Leawood for inviting us and allowing us to share out stories.
What a great morning we had visiting with these ladies! Thank you Leawood for inviting us and allowing us to share out stories.
Friday, September 16, 2011
A Rainforest Kind of Day...
I have never fully believed the saying that something good always come out of something bad. But one thing that is discussed in our support group, my sessions with my therapist, books about grief, etc. is PRODUCTIVE grieving. I'm going to try to explain what that means. It is the opposite of stagnant grieving. It doesn't mean to get over, through or past your grief. I think it means MAKING something good out of something bad. Good doesn't naturally come out of bad. Watching the image of my son lying perfectly still on the ultrasound, and listening to the complete silence of his non-existent heartbeat was BAD. Nothing good naturally came out of that. Only horror and sorrow and loss and desperation and complete and total annihilation of a dream.
For instance, roses don't naturally grow out of fresh cow #%$*. Cow #$%* that is mixed with other ingredients, processed and scattered on soil does encourage growth of roses - but it takes WORK. It isn't NATURAL. So it is my choice if I want to have productive grief. I could choose to become a neo-natel nurse, I could choose to become a scientist and figure out how to avoid miscarriages and stillbirth and infant death, or I could choose to share my story with others so they know they aren't alone. So I choose to do that. I choose to use my creativity, my overflow of feelings, my story to try to help others in my situation.
I choose to take the horror and sorrow and loss and desperation and complete and total annihilation of my dream... I choose to use the LOVE OF MY SON to do something productive.
Please - BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY IT THAT IT WASN'T ALWAYS THAT WAY. In the beginning I didn't want to move, talk, wake-up, get out of bed...or even breathe. I wanted to go to sleep, dream of John Preston and wake up when it was time to either have the next baby or see him in heaven. I didn't want to go outside where there might actually be BABIES and CHILDREN and (gasp!) PREGNANT WOMEN!!! I didn't want to go to graduations or weddings or plays or anything that would remind me of what I would never be able to share with my son.
Alot of my posts are going to be desert posts. But I want you to know by reading this rainforest post that it DOES get easier to breath, and that you will smile (for real, not just for the 'camera'). You will likely never have a day when you don't think about or hurt over your loss, ever. But one day you will have ONE thought about something other than your loss. And a few days later you will have TWO thoughts about something other than your loss. Then you will have a few days when you think of nothing else but. Ah, but then you will have that day when you have THREE thoughts about something other than your loss.
Today I had lots of other thoughts, but my son never left my mind. I laughed, giggled, ate, flirted with my hubby, shopped, and made plans for tomorrow. So, today was a rainforest kind of day.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Why am I here?
You can view my story in the "My story" section, but I want you to know why I am here. After losing my one and only son and realizing I would never have children I lost myself for awhile (and still feel lost at times).
Eventually I met Robin, who would lead me on a journey of 'dealing and healing'. She allowed me to accompany her on her journey to start a non-profit organization geared toward helping families (especially women) deal with the loss of their child(ren) through miscarriage, stillbirth or infant death.
We are now gearing up to also help women who will not have any (or anymore) children. Our organization is called CrossHeart Ministries and you can visit us on Facebook and at our website www.crossheartministries.net.
I invite you to share your story, share your struggles, and share your victories on this blog or (if you are in the Memphis, TN Metro area) come to one of our support groups. We have a general grief support group right now, but in January 2012, we will start some new 'sub-groups' geared toward the many different and specific stages of all of our mommies.
And please know, even if you have never had a loss, but you want to be a mommy but can't, I still consider you a Mommy.
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