Friday, February 19, 2016

Strength Knowledge Wisdom



I don't understand how this little boy could be so full of life and ingrained into our lives and then just one day not.

I'm having a hard time dealing with Liam's loss. 

I've gotten so many people tell me how strong I am for being able to grieve and live at the same time. How strong I am for doing what I did for him for his short life. 

I don't know if that's strength. All I know is that my son was so full of life. He loved life and would want me to continue living and loving it as well for him. For my loved ones. For myself. 

I wake up every morning. I get Lanie around for school. Sometimes I lay back down after she and Justin are gone. Honestly most days I lay back down. I become just here. Every now and then I stay awake and functioning and clean house. I set alarms for everything because time and dates are meaningless to me. 

Days and night blur together and time is lost. 

Earlier I posted the following on Facebook: "Grief feels like being drowned. We have two choices, go down without a fight or kick like hell to reach the surface. I fight even when my lungs burn and my body wants to give up."

A fellow CDH mom and dear friend commented that it was the perfect description of early grief. That later on it would feel like being in a boat and having the waves crash into you. Eventually calm waters with storms further apart. ( paraphrased not quoted of course) 

I can only pray and wait to be pulled onto a boat and then wait for the storms to slow. 

Some days I can lie and tell you "I'm ok". Other days I flat out will say "no I'm not" because I don't have the strength to fake it. Mostly I don't care what others think of how it makes them feel when I talk about Liam or how much it hurts to loose him. On a rare occasion I'll have a moment when the walls fly up and I keep it all to myself. There have even been moments when someone's being rude or insensitive and I've said "oh it's hard for you to be around me? Oh I'm sorry I lost my son and it makes you uncomfortable" and walk away. 

My life and heart feel like the shattered glass from a mirror and now I have to glue the pieces back together even though when I do there will be a huge hole in the middle. 

Life will never be the same. Many people have said things will be better when everything is back to normal. Truth is there is no normal anymore. Our normal was much different than everyone else's with all Liam's medical needs. This was a life most didn't couldn't understand. Now there's this. It's not finding a normal. It's figuring out how to survive. 

I had someone say to me that when things go back to normal that I'd forget all of this. It'll be like it never happened. I was appalled. Truly sickened and shocked into silence. Forget my son died? Forget I ever had one? That would mean his life never mattered. That his story never touched people's hearts and changed them forever. Forget 4 and a half years on my life. Forget all the people I met because of Liam and CDH. Forget the strength and bravity he taught me. No. There will be no forgetting. Liam's life mattered and his story will continue to be told and help others. 

My advice to anyone with a friend or loved one going through such a loss is to be careful of your words and the way you say them. Choose them carefully because you can't take them back and once their out there, the damage cannot be undone. You might think what your saying is helpful but take a moment to step into the grieving persons shoes and think "if my child died and this was said to me, how would I feel?". What you say and do now will make a huge impact on the further relationship with said person. Sometimes the best thing you can do is flat out say "this sucks. What can I do for you right this minute". 

I would never wish this on anyone. And praying for no one to ever have to feel this pain again would be fruitless. So I pray for strength, wisdom and knowledge. May you find your way even in the midst of tragedy. 

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