I can't believe it's almost Christmas again. This time of year is always a challenge due to so many Christmas activities and events - it's stressful and overwhelming even for those full of Christmas cheer. However it's so bittersweet for me now - hanging Josh's stocking on our mantle, knowing it will remain empty. Wishing he was physically present in our family pictures. That is one thing that really gets to me the most - every picture taken with our family is always incomplete. There is only one word that can really describe it - it sucks.
Since the holidays are so hectic it is hard to find time to have a quiet mind to reflect. For those who have lost a close loved one, especially a child, they know that grief never goes away. You never get over your loss, you just learn to live with it. But times like Christmas it's like the wound is opened again. Not having Josh sit on Santa's lap, not having him "help" with making cookies, not adding a column for him on my Christmas gift excel spreadsheet. Again, it sucks. Yet, this year I found a place I can go so I can have that mental space to reflect, remember, and grieve. I don't know how I missed this last year but am glad I found it now.
I recently found out about a support group specifically meant for parents who have lost a child. It's called The Compassionate Friends and is a national organization with over 600 chapters across the U.S. Every year during the holidays they hold a candlelight vigil to honor the memories of our lost children. I attended it this year (it happened to be held at our church) and found it incredibly helpful. Here I was with about 30 other local parents who have lost a child - ranging from Josh's age up to adult children. Parents who have lost their children due to cancer, disease, or sudden accidents. No matter what the cause, we all had a common bond and truly understood what one another was feeling. For example, even though the guy sitting next to me lost his teenage daughter several years ago, we shared the same burden. During the vigil we lit candles for our child, shared a little bit about our child while showing their picture, and did some readings to reflect our sorrow and to provide comfort. Although I was a sobbing mess it was exactly what I needed. It's so hard to find time to think and reflect between work, kids, and the holiday craziness, that this vigil forced me to do so without distraction. I was in dire need of an emotional release and felt so much better afterwards. Sad, yes, but also happy I had the time to honor my baby.
Prior to attending the vigil I spoke with a woman who had lost her teenage son to cancer the day we buried Josh. I remember hearing about it at Josh's funeral as the family is also involved in our church. This woman is planning to get a Compassionate Friends chapter started in Durham as the closest chapter is 40 minutes away. I am definitely planning on getting involved to help it get off the ground. It is such a need for parents to have a support network and resources to help them through their grief and as I've already experienced, I know it will be helpful to me as well.
At the vigil I spoke with a parent who said he has finally passed the point where he spends more time thinking about his child's life than of her death. I am looking forward to when that happens for me. Most of the time when I think about Josh I think about the day he died and every.single.detail of that day. I would love to have my mind full of the times when we cuddled or he "ran" with me, or when he'd stare at my other kids in awe. There was so much wonderful time I got to spend with him - I just wish my brain would focus on that instead of that awful day.
Well, I could ramble forever but want to extend a cyber "hug" to other parents whose Christmas is bittersweet this year. And while I'm at it to anyone who is feeling empty or missing someone. It sucks. But I'm hopeful we can all find some comfort and joy this Christmas. Be kind to yourselves. Merry Christmas!
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Gone but still present
I've been reading a bit lately about the afterlife. I read "Heaven is For Real" and am also reading a book of vignettes of people who have lost loved ones and receive signs that they are still around. Although I have always believed in heaven I never really knew what to believe about spirits or ghosts or signs from above. Since Josh died I'm convinced there is a spiritual realm and that our lost loved ones are still with us on some level. Now, you may think I've lost my mind but after reading other people's accounts of signs they too have received as well as talking to friends who have lost loved ones (including a friend who lost her child), it is just too much evidence to ignore. So I figured I'd share some of the things I've experienced the past 15 months:
Messages from Above
Shortly after Josh died I remember laying in bed one night and the most surreal feeling came over me. It was sort of like a dream but I remember seeing only light and I had the most warm and amazing feeling for a few minutes. It was nothing like I'd ever experienced before but was distinct and almost indescribable. The sense of comfort and peace I got from those few moments was what I believe to be a little snapshot of what heaven is like.
Shortly after Josh died I remember laying in bed one night and the most surreal feeling came over me. It was sort of like a dream but I remember seeing only light and I had the most warm and amazing feeling for a few minutes. It was nothing like I'd ever experienced before but was distinct and almost indescribable. The sense of comfort and peace I got from those few moments was what I believe to be a little snapshot of what heaven is like.
Every night at dinner we say grace and then pray for someone in need. We wrap up our prayer asking Josh to watch over us. One night just as we said that part the towel we have hanging near our kitchen door (to have handy for wet dog feet) fell to the ground. It was almost the exact instant we said Josh's name. I even said "hi Josh" as it happened because it was so obvious it was a sign from him.
Hummingbirds
We've had a hummingbird come "visit" us this summer during dinner by hovering outside our kitchen windows (next to the table), watch us for a minute and then fly away. This is also new to us. We've had hummingbirds before but never one who was a regular visitor during dinner, at the same time and place almost every day.
We've had a hummingbird come "visit" us this summer during dinner by hovering outside our kitchen windows (next to the table), watch us for a minute and then fly away. This is also new to us. We've had hummingbirds before but never one who was a regular visitor during dinner, at the same time and place almost every day.
Ladybugs
Last fall I was at the beach for my annual weekend with some girl friends and was feeling pretty emotional. I had gone out to the beach by myself and just as I sat down a ladybug came and rested on my knee. I just knew it was yet another sign. I mean, how often do you see ladybugs on the beach?
And just a couple weeks ago during our family beach vacation I noticed a little yellow ladybug crawling on a lamp in our beach house. I watched it for a few seconds and then it literally disappeared. It didn't fly or fall but I blinked and it was gone.
Butterflies
I never really noticed butterflies but since Josh died I notice them all the time. The seem to fly near me when I need a little pick me up and several times I just get this feeling that these butterflies come when I need them.
I will never forget the time I went out for a morning run (a week or two after Josh's death) when it was slightly foggy and just before dawn. This most amazing thing was flying near me - something I hadn't seen before. I honestly didn't know what it was (I couldn't tell if it was a bird or a butterfly)- it was so beautiful though. Turns out it was a Luna Moth, which I only recently found out symbolizes the soul of lost loved ones. If you have never seen a Luna Moth fly before, it really is a spectacular site. I literally stopped running when I saw it - it was that unique and special.
Last fall I was at the beach for my annual weekend with some girl friends and was feeling pretty emotional. I had gone out to the beach by myself and just as I sat down a ladybug came and rested on my knee. I just knew it was yet another sign. I mean, how often do you see ladybugs on the beach?
And just a couple weeks ago during our family beach vacation I noticed a little yellow ladybug crawling on a lamp in our beach house. I watched it for a few seconds and then it literally disappeared. It didn't fly or fall but I blinked and it was gone.
Butterflies
I never really noticed butterflies but since Josh died I notice them all the time. The seem to fly near me when I need a little pick me up and several times I just get this feeling that these butterflies come when I need them.
I will never forget the time I went out for a morning run (a week or two after Josh's death) when it was slightly foggy and just before dawn. This most amazing thing was flying near me - something I hadn't seen before. I honestly didn't know what it was (I couldn't tell if it was a bird or a butterfly)- it was so beautiful though. Turns out it was a Luna Moth, which I only recently found out symbolizes the soul of lost loved ones. If you have never seen a Luna Moth fly before, it really is a spectacular site. I literally stopped running when I saw it - it was that unique and special.
When we received the beautiful stained glass piece from the families at Josh's daycare, I became emotional and choked up. Immediately after they delivered the gift and left, I had to go outside (I think we were on our way somewhere) and I immediately saw a butterfly. I knew it was a sign from above and looked up to the sky and said a quiet "thank you" to God.
Rainbows
Rainbows
Probably the biggest sign of all and one I will never forget is the beautiful rainbow that appeared the night of the Team Josh dinner (the night before the big Team Josh run at the Bull City Race Fest). The evening had already been so special and filled with emotion and that rainbow appeared out of nowhere as the evening started to wind down. There had been no thunderstorm - just slight drizzle and a dusky sun. That rainbow brought not only me but others to tears as I know it was Josh saying "I'm here" and "Thank You".
The other very special rainbow was the one I saw the day of Josh's first birthday. I had prayed the entire week prior I would see a rainbow on his birthday as a sign from him, but when it was sixty degrees and sunny all day I lost hope. Late in the day as we prepared to visit his grave, Jake showed me the card he made to attach to the balloon he was going to release. Jake had drawn a colorful rainbow. If that wasn't a sign from God or Josh (or both!) I don't know what is!
Just recently on the kids' first day of school we had small rainbow show up in our back yard. The sun was out and there was a passing rain shower that produced the smallest rainbow I've seen. I first saw a butterfly which drew my attention to it. Perhaps it was Josh wanting to tell the kids he was excited for their first day of school?
Numbers and Dates
Aside from all these signs I've received I also feel like there have been too many "coincidences" with dates and numbers to ignore. One that I feel is really odd has a little back story to it. As a child, I'd always prayed that I would die on my hundredth birthday in my sleep. Don't ask me why - probably my uptight personality wanting to make sure I had that little detail taken care of. It became a joke between my husband and I - we'd joke if he'd be able to come along or he'd tease me about it. Having been together for almost 20 years this joke has come up several times. Well, a few months ago I was reading a report from our insurance company and the report stated Josh was 100 days old when he died. I had never done the math but knew he was 14 weeks and 2 days old when he died (which obviously adds up to 100 days). And Josh died in his sleep. If he had died on any other day or another way I wouldn't think twice about it. Very, very odd.
Josh died on my sister in law's birthday. My birthday happens to be National Infant Loss and Remembrance Day. Again, some may say it's a coincidence but I think there is some meaning behind these numbers and dates.
So, all of these odd experiences or unusual coincidences may not mean a darn thing. However the feeling I get from them is difficult to articulate yet on some level I know both Josh and God are present with us. And perhaps it's a feeling we aren't meant to completely understand. To hear how other people experience similar things just furthers my faith that there has to be something beyond life as we know it. And in times when I'm missing Josh terribly and yearn to just touch him or hold him again I'm comforted by the fact that I will see him again. And although he isn't physically here, he is still very present and will always be a special part of our family.
Mommy loves you Josh and I look forward to your next "visit".
The other very special rainbow was the one I saw the day of Josh's first birthday. I had prayed the entire week prior I would see a rainbow on his birthday as a sign from him, but when it was sixty degrees and sunny all day I lost hope. Late in the day as we prepared to visit his grave, Jake showed me the card he made to attach to the balloon he was going to release. Jake had drawn a colorful rainbow. If that wasn't a sign from God or Josh (or both!) I don't know what is!
Just recently on the kids' first day of school we had small rainbow show up in our back yard. The sun was out and there was a passing rain shower that produced the smallest rainbow I've seen. I first saw a butterfly which drew my attention to it. Perhaps it was Josh wanting to tell the kids he was excited for their first day of school?
Numbers and Dates
Aside from all these signs I've received I also feel like there have been too many "coincidences" with dates and numbers to ignore. One that I feel is really odd has a little back story to it. As a child, I'd always prayed that I would die on my hundredth birthday in my sleep. Don't ask me why - probably my uptight personality wanting to make sure I had that little detail taken care of. It became a joke between my husband and I - we'd joke if he'd be able to come along or he'd tease me about it. Having been together for almost 20 years this joke has come up several times. Well, a few months ago I was reading a report from our insurance company and the report stated Josh was 100 days old when he died. I had never done the math but knew he was 14 weeks and 2 days old when he died (which obviously adds up to 100 days). And Josh died in his sleep. If he had died on any other day or another way I wouldn't think twice about it. Very, very odd.
Josh died on my sister in law's birthday. My birthday happens to be National Infant Loss and Remembrance Day. Again, some may say it's a coincidence but I think there is some meaning behind these numbers and dates.
So, all of these odd experiences or unusual coincidences may not mean a darn thing. However the feeling I get from them is difficult to articulate yet on some level I know both Josh and God are present with us. And perhaps it's a feeling we aren't meant to completely understand. To hear how other people experience similar things just furthers my faith that there has to be something beyond life as we know it. And in times when I'm missing Josh terribly and yearn to just touch him or hold him again I'm comforted by the fact that I will see him again. And although he isn't physically here, he is still very present and will always be a special part of our family.
Mommy loves you Josh and I look forward to your next "visit".
Tuesday, June 10, 2014
One year
One year. It's so hard to believe that a whole year has passed since I've held my baby boy. Since I've smelled him and felt his little head rest in the crook of my neck. Since I've heard him cry or coo. Since I've fed him, talked to him, kissed him. Since I've rocked him while patting his little butt. Since I've simply watched his cute face and the funny baby expressions he made. One year with a part of me being gone.
It's been hard. I won't lie. This past year has been a challenge to say the least. I've had to learn how to compartmentalize my emotions. There are times when it just isn't appropriate to break down and cry. Sometimes I have to put on a happy face when inside I just want to crawl in a hole and sob. There are times when I'm just cranky and irritable. I have to try to not let my sadness interfere with how I interact with my other kids. I tend to shed my tears in the car or at church nowadays. Yes, I'm that lady on the right side of the altar, about 7 pews back who has tissues on hand just in case every week. Early on after Josh died I'd cry A LOT, but now I can go weeks without shedding a tear. It's not that the grief isn't there but I guess with time I'm adapting.
The kids are still grieving in their own ways. Jake has his moments of sensitivity and sadness. He also is very sensitive to when one of his parents is feeling low and needs a hug. I don't want him to feel responsible for our happiness and I'm doing my best to make sure he knows that it's not up to him to make sure mommy is okay. Ben misses Josh a lot - he talks about him and questions us about heaven. He also has lots of questions and fears about death. It's hard to tell your kids that they don't need to worry about dying or about mommy or daddy dying until we are really old because obviously that isn't always true. We try our best to reassure them that heaven is like Disneyland (we went with the boys for a day about 4 years ago while in CA), except heaven is about 10 times more fun. That seems to ease their fears and give them comfort that even in death and the sadness that brings, that heaven is pretty awesome. We try to reassure them that in the rare event they lose us that they will be well taken care of and will be okay. That's something no kid should have to even worry about yet they know the reality of death. Leah's grieving process has been interesting. As she is maturing, she now really understands that Josh was a significant part of our family. It's kind of like she's playing "catch up" with the rest of us and is now making sense of everything that happened a year ago when she was a few months shy of 3 years old. She frequently says she wants Josh to be here and we know in her own way she misses him too.
We've had some trials and tribulations this past year - 3 trips to the ER (everyone is fine) and some other challenges. However if Josh's death has taught us anything it's that we will survive anything thrown at us and we are certainly not immune to bad things happening to us. I have a new calmness about me that I never had before. My tolerance for b.s. is also a lot lower than before. Things that used to seem like a big deal to me or that I would stress over don't even phase me these days. I don't have the patience or time for people who whine, rationalize bad behavior, or make up excuses for poor choices. Losing a child has altered my world view a bit and probably has hardened me in some ways and made me more confident in others.
Josh's picture has been on our fridge since a day or two after he died. It's at eye level so every time I go to the fridge I see him. He is still the background picture on my phone. Every time I get a text or email or swipe to unlock my phone I see his little smile. I can't bear to change it. I recently bought a little storage bench so I can move his things from a box in the closet into a more special place. I plan to fix it up and make it worthy of his things. I have yet to make an album of all the pictures from the poster boards at his viewing. Partly due to lack of time and partly because I can't figure out the perfect photo album for them.
The trauma of that day, June 10th, is forever etched in my mind. It is something I will never get over and I frequently think about. I'm learning how to live with the nagging heavy feeling of loss that is always there. I don't think it will ever go away. However I sometimes am able to momentarily "forget" and have some time when I can almost fully enjoy myself. I am able to laugh and have fun but at some point reality returns and that cloud comes back. That is something that is really maddening - that for the rest of my life I don't get to have that sense of complete and utter happiness. That feeling when you are 100% content. I had it before Josh died but I don't think it will ever return and that angers me.
We have been so fortunate to be supported and lifted up by SO MANY this past year. It has been humbling how many have reached out to us and continue to do so. Without the love and support of our family and friends I don't know how we'd survive this. Just recently we received a beautiful stained glass piece that was made to honor Josh. All the families at his daycare chipped in to have it made and they surprised us with it. He was only at daycare for a week and I didn't even meet many of the other parents yet they came together in a beautiful gesture of support for our family. Once we find the perfect spot to hang it I will share a picture of it. It's thoughtful gestures like these that mean the world to us. A random text or card from a friend saying she's thinking of me, my best friend giving me comfy pajama pants and chocolates just because, my coworker giving a consoling hug when I shed a tear, let alone the countless people praying for us every day.
Obviously I'm not posting as often on this blog. I do when the urge strikes and I am probably repeating myself from previous entries but it has helped me process. One day I hope to share this with my living children when they are older.
One year. One year without our sweet baby boy. One year closer to seeing him in heaven. Now time to start tackling year #2.
Mommy loves you Josh.
It's been hard. I won't lie. This past year has been a challenge to say the least. I've had to learn how to compartmentalize my emotions. There are times when it just isn't appropriate to break down and cry. Sometimes I have to put on a happy face when inside I just want to crawl in a hole and sob. There are times when I'm just cranky and irritable. I have to try to not let my sadness interfere with how I interact with my other kids. I tend to shed my tears in the car or at church nowadays. Yes, I'm that lady on the right side of the altar, about 7 pews back who has tissues on hand just in case every week. Early on after Josh died I'd cry A LOT, but now I can go weeks without shedding a tear. It's not that the grief isn't there but I guess with time I'm adapting.
The kids are still grieving in their own ways. Jake has his moments of sensitivity and sadness. He also is very sensitive to when one of his parents is feeling low and needs a hug. I don't want him to feel responsible for our happiness and I'm doing my best to make sure he knows that it's not up to him to make sure mommy is okay. Ben misses Josh a lot - he talks about him and questions us about heaven. He also has lots of questions and fears about death. It's hard to tell your kids that they don't need to worry about dying or about mommy or daddy dying until we are really old because obviously that isn't always true. We try our best to reassure them that heaven is like Disneyland (we went with the boys for a day about 4 years ago while in CA), except heaven is about 10 times more fun. That seems to ease their fears and give them comfort that even in death and the sadness that brings, that heaven is pretty awesome. We try to reassure them that in the rare event they lose us that they will be well taken care of and will be okay. That's something no kid should have to even worry about yet they know the reality of death. Leah's grieving process has been interesting. As she is maturing, she now really understands that Josh was a significant part of our family. It's kind of like she's playing "catch up" with the rest of us and is now making sense of everything that happened a year ago when she was a few months shy of 3 years old. She frequently says she wants Josh to be here and we know in her own way she misses him too.
We've had some trials and tribulations this past year - 3 trips to the ER (everyone is fine) and some other challenges. However if Josh's death has taught us anything it's that we will survive anything thrown at us and we are certainly not immune to bad things happening to us. I have a new calmness about me that I never had before. My tolerance for b.s. is also a lot lower than before. Things that used to seem like a big deal to me or that I would stress over don't even phase me these days. I don't have the patience or time for people who whine, rationalize bad behavior, or make up excuses for poor choices. Losing a child has altered my world view a bit and probably has hardened me in some ways and made me more confident in others.
Josh's picture has been on our fridge since a day or two after he died. It's at eye level so every time I go to the fridge I see him. He is still the background picture on my phone. Every time I get a text or email or swipe to unlock my phone I see his little smile. I can't bear to change it. I recently bought a little storage bench so I can move his things from a box in the closet into a more special place. I plan to fix it up and make it worthy of his things. I have yet to make an album of all the pictures from the poster boards at his viewing. Partly due to lack of time and partly because I can't figure out the perfect photo album for them.
The trauma of that day, June 10th, is forever etched in my mind. It is something I will never get over and I frequently think about. I'm learning how to live with the nagging heavy feeling of loss that is always there. I don't think it will ever go away. However I sometimes am able to momentarily "forget" and have some time when I can almost fully enjoy myself. I am able to laugh and have fun but at some point reality returns and that cloud comes back. That is something that is really maddening - that for the rest of my life I don't get to have that sense of complete and utter happiness. That feeling when you are 100% content. I had it before Josh died but I don't think it will ever return and that angers me.
We have been so fortunate to be supported and lifted up by SO MANY this past year. It has been humbling how many have reached out to us and continue to do so. Without the love and support of our family and friends I don't know how we'd survive this. Just recently we received a beautiful stained glass piece that was made to honor Josh. All the families at his daycare chipped in to have it made and they surprised us with it. He was only at daycare for a week and I didn't even meet many of the other parents yet they came together in a beautiful gesture of support for our family. Once we find the perfect spot to hang it I will share a picture of it. It's thoughtful gestures like these that mean the world to us. A random text or card from a friend saying she's thinking of me, my best friend giving me comfy pajama pants and chocolates just because, my coworker giving a consoling hug when I shed a tear, let alone the countless people praying for us every day.
Obviously I'm not posting as often on this blog. I do when the urge strikes and I am probably repeating myself from previous entries but it has helped me process. One day I hope to share this with my living children when they are older.
One year. One year without our sweet baby boy. One year closer to seeing him in heaven. Now time to start tackling year #2.
Mommy loves you Josh.
Saturday, April 5, 2014
Bear Hunt
Well, we made it through Josh's birthday. I knew we would but I wasn't sure how painful it was actually going to be. The funny thing about grief is that you can't choose when it hits you. The week leading up to his birthday was probably worse than the day itself. We actually had a nice day, all things considered. We decided to skip church that morning and go on a family hike instead. The kids enjoyed counting the turtles while we hiked along the river (tally was 10 by the way). We had a picnic lunch and enjoyed the break from the nasty winter weather we'd been having for weeks. I had prayed the entire week leading up to his birthday that I would see a rainbow on his birthday. They say rainbows are signs from heaven that our children are with us. I used to be a skeptic about this until Josh died. He came in a beautiful rainbow during the pasta dinner we had the night before the Team Josh race. I see him in butterflies, lady bugs, and birds. Not all of them but there are some where I get the sense it's him coming for a visit.
Anyway, the kids wanted to get balloons and send them up to heaven. I had lost hope on seeing a rainbow since it was sixty degrees and sunny out. Wouldn't you know that the card Jake made to attach to his balloon had a rainbow in it? Some may say it was a coincidence but I know that was a sign from Josh or God or both letting me know that he is with us on his birthday. We went to visit his grave and sent off the balloons and then went out to dinner to the same restaurant we went to the night before he was born. We are hoping to go there every year on his birthday - kind of our special place to celebrate him.
The other small thing I did in Josh's honor was request friends and family to do a random act of kindness for a stranger. It was heartwarming to hear what people were doing for others that week and to know some good is coming from his death. On his birthday as I was getting the balloons from the grocery store I bought a gift card and then gave it to a lady on my way out as she was walking in. Although I was near tears as I was getting the balloons it felt good to give to her. Getting balloons was also interesting - the cashier and others assumed they were for something fun of course. I didn't have the heart to tell people I was getting them to release at my son's grave site for his birthday. Most of the time I don't mind sharing our story but I knew I would have lost it had I tried that day.
We also decided the week of Josh's birthday to use his Memorial Fund to help a family within our parish and school community who we felt could use a helping hand. I felt it important to honor Josh in that way in time for his birthday. Again, a little good to spread the light he brought to our lives.
We also decided the week of Josh's birthday to use his Memorial Fund to help a family within our parish and school community who we felt could use a helping hand. I felt it important to honor Josh in that way in time for his birthday. Again, a little good to spread the light he brought to our lives.
I've noticed recently that my view of life and the world around me is changing. In some ways I feel a sense of peace in knowing that everything will be okay. I recently watched a segment on CBS news about the father of a student at my boys' school. He has ALS and is living life to the fullest during his time left on earth. (Coincidentally my boys told me he spoke to the students at school yesterday). Despite his prognosis he is happy and has an appreciation for the little things that many can't relate to on the level he is experiencing. Although our situations are completely different I feel this way too. I've started to realize that our time on earth, although meaningful, is temporary and I'd better make the most of it while I'm here. For me that means trying not to sweat the small stuff (which I tend to struggle with), and simply trying to live the best life I can. That doesn't mean trying to accumulate material things, rather focusing on my relationships with others and valuing them in a way I hadn't before. Despite my grief and longing for Josh I would venture to say I'm still happy just as Chris is despite having ALS. I encourage you to watch this short video about Chris Rosati, ALS warrior, to both get a sense of what I'm trying to articulate as well as to get inspired by his story.
So I guess what I've been realizing the past few months is that we all have our challenges, our crosses to bear, our battles to fight. For the ones you have control over, choose them wisely. For those you don't, you just have to get through it. Kind of like the children's story "We're Going on a Bear Hunt". You may not know what lies ahead, it might be a bit scary, but you have no choice but to rise to the challenge and go through it. Kind of like getting through Josh's death, Christmas without him, and his first birthday. Kind of like Chris dealing with ALS. Kind of like those who have lost loved ones, are struggling with addiction or mental illness or cancer or disease, lose their homes, their jobs, their sense of security. We all have our struggles and if we take some time to look around we'll notice that we aren't alone and in a way we are all going on our own bear hunt.
So I guess what I've been realizing the past few months is that we all have our challenges, our crosses to bear, our battles to fight. For the ones you have control over, choose them wisely. For those you don't, you just have to get through it. Kind of like the children's story "We're Going on a Bear Hunt". You may not know what lies ahead, it might be a bit scary, but you have no choice but to rise to the challenge and go through it. Kind of like getting through Josh's death, Christmas without him, and his first birthday. Kind of like Chris dealing with ALS. Kind of like those who have lost loved ones, are struggling with addiction or mental illness or cancer or disease, lose their homes, their jobs, their sense of security. We all have our struggles and if we take some time to look around we'll notice that we aren't alone and in a way we are all going on our own bear hunt.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Happy Birthday in Heaven
It is so hard to believe it's Josh's birthday. One year ago I felt like the luckiest person in the world - I had just given birth to my fourth child to complete our family. Who could ask for more? I had four beautiful children, an amazing husband, a career I love, and wonderful family and friends. We were so blessed. To have that amazing reality stolen from my family and me angers me. But, to dwell on the "it's not fair" aspect of Josh's death really doesn't do me any good. I've mentioned in previous posts that I'm human and I have my moments of self pity and being mad at the hand we were dealt, however I do feel blessed that I did have three months of my perfect family. Josh brought so much joy to our lives in the short time he was here. In many ways I feel that he made me a better person and showed a tender side of my other kids that I hadn't really seen before. They doted on their baby brother and loved him so much. Josh was and is a blessing. He gives me strength to get through hard days, he gives me perspective on life that I never had before, he has shown me how deep love is.
When a parent loses a child it's only natural to look around at other kids the same age and wonder how their own child would be now. I imagine how cute Josh would be at one year old. He would probably be getting ready to walk or perhaps would have taken a few steps already. He probably would light up the room with his squeals and laughter. He would probably crawl around the house after his siblings. He'd be getting into my kitchen cabinets and making messes left and right. He'd be coming to the end of nursing and graduating to real milk in a cup. He'd be babbling and trying to "talk". It's hard not looking at other people's babies who are about the same age as Josh would be and not wistfully think about the "what ifs". I wouldn't say I'm jealous - the rational side of me understands that it wouldn't be right to be jealous of those who do have happy, healthy babies. I would say that in many ways I enjoy seeing babies because I get a little glimpse into how Josh would be. That baby in the shopping cart at the grocery store, a baby on a diaper commercial, online videos posted on facebook of cute baby antics - they all remind me of him and in a way it's comforting.
One year ago we welcomed this little peanut into the world. He was 6lbs, 4oz and was so perfect. Josh was a planned c-section (my first) due to being breech. He came out and was so mellow and so darn cute. He nursed well and was our first baby who didn't get jaundiced. Being the fourth child he was on the go from the beginning - at Jake's baseball practice at two weeks old, picking up his brothers from school, going to scout events, soccer games, etc. Josh was the perfect addition to our family. He still is.
So, on Josh's one year old birthday in heaven I wanted to share some pictures of him with those who follow my blog. I hope they capture his sweet personality and you are able to get a sense of how special he is.
I miss my baby boy so much and would give anything for the chance to hold him again and see his smile. My hope is that he is having the best birthday party up there in heaven with the most awesome smash cake ever. While my heart hurts here on earth missing my baby on his birthday I know he is in a wonderful place. Happy Birthday Josh. We love you so much!
When a parent loses a child it's only natural to look around at other kids the same age and wonder how their own child would be now. I imagine how cute Josh would be at one year old. He would probably be getting ready to walk or perhaps would have taken a few steps already. He probably would light up the room with his squeals and laughter. He would probably crawl around the house after his siblings. He'd be getting into my kitchen cabinets and making messes left and right. He'd be coming to the end of nursing and graduating to real milk in a cup. He'd be babbling and trying to "talk". It's hard not looking at other people's babies who are about the same age as Josh would be and not wistfully think about the "what ifs". I wouldn't say I'm jealous - the rational side of me understands that it wouldn't be right to be jealous of those who do have happy, healthy babies. I would say that in many ways I enjoy seeing babies because I get a little glimpse into how Josh would be. That baby in the shopping cart at the grocery store, a baby on a diaper commercial, online videos posted on facebook of cute baby antics - they all remind me of him and in a way it's comforting.
One year ago we welcomed this little peanut into the world. He was 6lbs, 4oz and was so perfect. Josh was a planned c-section (my first) due to being breech. He came out and was so mellow and so darn cute. He nursed well and was our first baby who didn't get jaundiced. Being the fourth child he was on the go from the beginning - at Jake's baseball practice at two weeks old, picking up his brothers from school, going to scout events, soccer games, etc. Josh was the perfect addition to our family. He still is.
So, on Josh's one year old birthday in heaven I wanted to share some pictures of him with those who follow my blog. I hope they capture his sweet personality and you are able to get a sense of how special he is.
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| Josh's birthday |
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| My loves |
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| Getting to know each other |
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| Leah was so excited to be a big sister |
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| He sure was a cuddler |
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| So snuggly |
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| The changing table was one of his favorite places |
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| Ben loved holding Josh |
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| Being inquisitive |
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| Shy smile |
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| Somehow managed to kick off his sock |
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Josh even hiked the Rocky Mountains
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| We made wonderful memories together in Colorado |
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| Our sweet angel |
I miss my baby boy so much and would give anything for the chance to hold him again and see his smile. My hope is that he is having the best birthday party up there in heaven with the most awesome smash cake ever. While my heart hurts here on earth missing my baby on his birthday I know he is in a wonderful place. Happy Birthday Josh. We love you so much!
Friday, February 14, 2014
But We Did Everything Right
Every new parent hears the term SIDS - from the media, literature, their pediatrician, on baby items advertised to reduce its risk. Yet for most SIDS is this thing that happens to other people. It could never happen to them. And most people don't know of someone who lost a child to SIDS so it's kind of this weird unknown thing that people say happens but it doesn't seem real. Yeah, we hear about it from time to time but that's the extent of it. I was one of those disillusioned parents. We followed all of the expert advice to reduce the risk of SIDS - we didn't smoke, all my kids were breastfed, we didn't have toys or blankets kept in the crib, we always put our babies on their backs to sleep and made sure the room temperature wasn't too hot. We never brought a baby into our bed. And yet it happened to my perfect Josh. After a full medical history review, autopsy, labs and tissue sample testing they could find nothing wrong with him. So, Sudden Infant Death Syndrome was the "cause" of death. In some ways this is good because I don't feel guilt that we missed something but in other ways it is frustrating because I will always wonder what if the circumstances were different that day? What if at that moment in time he wasn't down for a nap and instead I was taking him for a walk? Maybe he would still be here if that were the case. Or was it going to happen anyway? Who really knows.
As the mother of a SIDS baby, I find it extremely annoying that the media seems to confuse people about the diagnosis. I stumbled upon this list from the CJ Foundation for SIDS that seems to help provide some clarity (I edited it slightly):
As the mother of a SIDS baby, I find it extremely annoying that the media seems to confuse people about the diagnosis. I stumbled upon this list from the CJ Foundation for SIDS that seems to help provide some clarity (I edited it slightly):
- SIDS claims the lives of almost 2,500 infants in the US each year - that's nearly 7 babies every day.
- SIDS is not caused by vaccines
- SIDS deaths occur unexpectedly and quickly to apparently healthy infants, usually during periods of sleep.
- SIDS is not caused by suffocation, choking, or smothering.
- SIDS is not caused by child abuse or neglect.
- SIDS is not contagious.
- SIDS occurs in families of all races and socioeconomic levels.
- SIDS cannot be predicted or prevented and can claim any baby, in spite of parents doing everything right.
I think my biggest pet peeve is that many people think suffocation and SIDS are the same thing which couldn't be farther from the truth. Although the death of a child from suffocation is tragic and horrible it is also preventable. SIDS isn't. In fact research is starting to indicate a possible brain stem abnormality in these babies that effects breathing, heart rate, and the ability to awaken. Even Parents magazine can't get their facts right. They did an article a few months ago supposedly to highlight the risks of SIDS however every family profiled in the article had a baby who died as a result of parents not following safe sleep practices. Although information about preventing suffocation and accidents is certainly important, it is also the responsibility of the media not to confuse this with SIDS.
I guess my take home message is that parents do need to do their best to reduce the risk of suffocation as well as other accidents but to also keep in mind that despite doing everything right things can still go wrong. A year ago I would have shrugged this sort of thing off because of course it wouldn't happen to me (because bad things like that only happen to other people!). Boy was I wrong.
Not an hour goes by that I don't think of Josh. It's been 8 months since we lost him but seems like just yesterday. I've been struggling a bit lately - there have been so many reminders that he should be here. He should have been with us while we were watching the Super Bowl. He should have been with us while we had snow days this week and we were all having a snowball fight together. Every single happy family moment is overshadowed by the fact he isn't here. The other night when I discovered a mouse in our closet and we proceeded to have some family excitement trying to find and catch it we were hysterically laughing because it was so funny. After it all calmed down I was hit with such pain and started to cry. A few weeks ago I was folding laundry on a Sunday afternoon and got this strong urge to go to him. Thankfully I could escape for a bit and I went and just sat there and cried for a good hour. I sat there against "our" tree and just allowed myself to miss him. I think back to the day he went to heaven and how horrible it was. I remember every single detail of that day and find my thoughts going back to it despite me trying not to. Last week I attended a support group for those who have also suffered the loss of an infant (due to a variety of reasons, not just SIDS) and found it very helpful to hear other moms' stories and relate to them on a level no one else can truly understand.
Anyway, we continue to move forward but some days are harder than others. And I guess that I should expect it will be like that for quite a long time. Mommy loves you Josh.
I guess my take home message is that parents do need to do their best to reduce the risk of suffocation as well as other accidents but to also keep in mind that despite doing everything right things can still go wrong. A year ago I would have shrugged this sort of thing off because of course it wouldn't happen to me (because bad things like that only happen to other people!). Boy was I wrong.
Not an hour goes by that I don't think of Josh. It's been 8 months since we lost him but seems like just yesterday. I've been struggling a bit lately - there have been so many reminders that he should be here. He should have been with us while we were watching the Super Bowl. He should have been with us while we had snow days this week and we were all having a snowball fight together. Every single happy family moment is overshadowed by the fact he isn't here. The other night when I discovered a mouse in our closet and we proceeded to have some family excitement trying to find and catch it we were hysterically laughing because it was so funny. After it all calmed down I was hit with such pain and started to cry. A few weeks ago I was folding laundry on a Sunday afternoon and got this strong urge to go to him. Thankfully I could escape for a bit and I went and just sat there and cried for a good hour. I sat there against "our" tree and just allowed myself to miss him. I think back to the day he went to heaven and how horrible it was. I remember every single detail of that day and find my thoughts going back to it despite me trying not to. Last week I attended a support group for those who have also suffered the loss of an infant (due to a variety of reasons, not just SIDS) and found it very helpful to hear other moms' stories and relate to them on a level no one else can truly understand.
Anyway, we continue to move forward but some days are harder than others. And I guess that I should expect it will be like that for quite a long time. Mommy loves you Josh.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Happy New Year!
I have never been more excited about the start of a new year than I was a few days ago as we said hello to 2014. What an awful year 2013 was - not only for my family but for so many people I know. So many loved ones passed away in 2013 - parents, siblings, spouses - many dying suddenly and leaving family members grasping for answers. It seemed as if every other week I'd hear about more bad news about tragic deaths that affected people I know - from suicides to freak auto accidents, to sudden deaths from underlying medical problems. Stories of kids dying such as hearing in my SIDS online support group about a family who lost a baby to SIDS and had just lost another child six months earlier. A friend who lost her father and brother within a couple months of each other. It really was a horrible year. I'm not normally superstitious but perhaps there is something to the "13" in 2013. Here's to hoping that 2014 brings happiness, peace, and joy to everyone!
We made it through Christmas. This was another reason I was so looking forward to the new year because it would signify that Christmas was over. Normally I cringe a bit as December approaches. I like Christmas, but to me December signifies 5,378 extra details to keep track of - from planning for and buying gifts for the kids, the husband, and other family members (thank goodness for Amazon Prime), to Christmas cards, baking cookies, teacher gifts, class parties, 3rd grade secret santa gifts, wrapping, cub scout Christmas caroling, 2 school/daycare Christmas programs, a piano recital, getting the tree, decorating, etc. etc. etc. It makes my head spin. On top of that Ben has a birthday in December so we have a party to plan, gifts, cake, class celebration, etc. So, yeah, December usually is fun but it's completely action-packed and stressful! On top of that I had a trip to the ER (3 year old fell and got a mild concussion) on the six month anniversary of Josh's death. It was hard walking back in that ER where I had to relive the worst day of my life, especially six months to the day it happened. And this year I felt like I couldn't fully embrace the season. It was completely not fair that instead of taking fun pictures of Josh "opening" gifts as a 9 month old, we instead visited his grave on the way to Christmas Eve mass. We all struggled a bit in the weeks leading up to Christmas - the kids were a bit more emotional and we had our moments. At the mass the Sunday before Christmas I was a bawling mess; in part from dealing with the feelings of missing my child during this time of year and in part due to the fact that a baby named Joshua was baptized at that mass (I mean, really?? If it didn't hurt the irony would almost be comical). So, the fact that we survived our first Christmas without Josh was to me a huge accomplishment. He was still with us in many ways - I ordered a stocking for him and it hung on the mantle like the rest of our family's. I also bought a special ornament that I felt perfectly reflected him in heaven - it's an infant wrapped in heart-shaped angel wings.
We made it through Christmas. This was another reason I was so looking forward to the new year because it would signify that Christmas was over. Normally I cringe a bit as December approaches. I like Christmas, but to me December signifies 5,378 extra details to keep track of - from planning for and buying gifts for the kids, the husband, and other family members (thank goodness for Amazon Prime), to Christmas cards, baking cookies, teacher gifts, class parties, 3rd grade secret santa gifts, wrapping, cub scout Christmas caroling, 2 school/daycare Christmas programs, a piano recital, getting the tree, decorating, etc. etc. etc. It makes my head spin. On top of that Ben has a birthday in December so we have a party to plan, gifts, cake, class celebration, etc. So, yeah, December usually is fun but it's completely action-packed and stressful! On top of that I had a trip to the ER (3 year old fell and got a mild concussion) on the six month anniversary of Josh's death. It was hard walking back in that ER where I had to relive the worst day of my life, especially six months to the day it happened. And this year I felt like I couldn't fully embrace the season. It was completely not fair that instead of taking fun pictures of Josh "opening" gifts as a 9 month old, we instead visited his grave on the way to Christmas Eve mass. We all struggled a bit in the weeks leading up to Christmas - the kids were a bit more emotional and we had our moments. At the mass the Sunday before Christmas I was a bawling mess; in part from dealing with the feelings of missing my child during this time of year and in part due to the fact that a baby named Joshua was baptized at that mass (I mean, really?? If it didn't hurt the irony would almost be comical). So, the fact that we survived our first Christmas without Josh was to me a huge accomplishment. He was still with us in many ways - I ordered a stocking for him and it hung on the mantle like the rest of our family's. I also bought a special ornament that I felt perfectly reflected him in heaven - it's an infant wrapped in heart-shaped angel wings.
We also finally got Josh's official death certificate and his official cause of death. It was indeed Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. Although not unexpected, I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand I'm glad that there was no underlying disease or illness that would make me question if I had missed any signs. However the diagnosis of SIDS to me is still not really an answer. It's a diagnosis of exclusion - basically after the autopsy and all the tests they still have no idea why he died. I am planning to write another post soon about SIDS and what it is and isn't. There is so much confusion about this diagnosis (for example it is NOT suffocation) that I feel it important to set the record straight.
Finally, I have a brief update on "J", the guy who was in that horrible accident. Luckily he will walk again after undergoing several surgeries and rehab. I'm told he is at home now and doing well all things considered. The guy who hit him was charged with a DUI and also had been charged with another DUI the week before the accident. Hopefully he will lose his license for a long, long time and get the help he so obviously needs.
We continue to soldier on as best we can and continue to remain thankful for everyone's support, love, and prayers. Let's all hope and pray for a happy, healthy 2014. My sister Laura has declared it the "Year of All the Good Things" and I hope she is right!
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