More Than Normal

Normal.

Normal was what we tried to give Liam. We wanted him to do normal boy things like play in the mud and climb trees. I swore one day I'd be taking him to ER for a normal broken arm instead of breathing or feeding problems. We tried so very hard to give him a "normal" life. I realize now that his life was anything but normal. It was so much MORE than normal. It was EXTRAORDINARY.

Liam taught us how to be strong. He was the strongest little boy I have ever known. He didn't fit in. He stood out. Like the brightest star in the sky. His smile shone brighter than the sun and when you saw it you couldn't help but smile too. His eyes would light up, as if there were actual lights behind his eyes, when he saw something he loved. He wasn't meant to fit in and get lost in the crowd. He was meant to shine and shine he did.

Liam shone so brightly until his last breath. He shone so brightly that his memory still shines in our hearts and in our memories. He was loved beyond measure, no he is still loved beyond measure.

I had so many fears for him, yet he was fearless. I was afraid he wouldn't fit in with the other kids at school but it was so much more. He stood out and yet they still loved him. He was proud of his differences and spread awareness in his own way. He loved showing off his Gtube. When he started having breathing issues and was back on oxygen, I wanted to keep him home. I was scared. Liam wasn't. He walked into that room as if nothing was different. Everyone had questions so I explained. One little boy said "so hes like an astronaut!" Liam's differences were celebrated. He was accepted despite them because he shone so brightly.

I was stupid to think normal was for Liam. He was so much more than normal. He was EXTRAORDINARY.

To quote Peter Pan "To live will be an awfully BIG adventure". Liam's life was an adventure. Every day, all day, he was exploring the world around him. Flying like Superman. Exploring the stars like an astronaut. Racing. The world was whatever he created it to be. He lived a huge life of adventure and love. A life fuller than most who live a long life. That's what I try to hold on too. Life is short and I want to live life like Liam did, for him. For me. 

Grief Journal: Acrostic Poem

16) Write an acrostic poem using your child's name.

Loving 

Imaginative 

Amazing

Miracle

Click here for the entire list of journal prompts.

Grief Journal: Letter to Liam

15) Write a letter to your child...


Dear Liam,
I miss your smile. I miss your laugh. I miss our cuddles and watching crazy animal videos with you. I miss reading "I love you Stinky Face" to you every night and "arguing" about which one of us is stinky face.

I miss how you use to climb on the back of the couch and lay there like the cats. How  you use to hang upside down from it and laugh. I miss how you use to stick your feet in my face and tell me to smell them and then laugh when I said your feet were stinky even when they weren't.

I miss singing the night night song to you. Lanie hasn't let me sing it to her since you passed. I miss watching you and Lanie play and laugh. She misses you too. It hurts her so much. Everyone misses you.

I will always love you. I can't stop. I don't want to stop. It's been 2 years sweet boy. 2 Years since I held you. 2 years and I haven't stopped grieving. I haven't come to terms with your passing. Maybe it's because I feel guilty like I shouldn't stop. But I need to find a better way to balance this grief and this life because I have to continue living.

When my time goes and I get to Heaven, I hope that you'll be waiting at the gates for me. I hope that you won't be mad I chose to see this life to the end and try to make a small difference in this world. I love you sweet boy and I will always love you. If I could change things, I would. I would have you here with me in an instant if it were possible but I have to come to terms that your gone. The only hope I have is that I will see you again. I love you sweet boy, always and forever.

3> mommy

(taken and edited October 2011)

Grief Journal: Plan Something

14) Plan something in honor of your child on a day that means something.

There are so many dates that hold unmeasurable amounts of meaning. 

Liam's birthday 7/14/2011: I spend the day every year surrounded by those that loved him and love us. 

7/21/2011: The day Liam had his repair surgery. Also my birthday. Having him survive the surgery was the best present I ever received. It meant he would have a chance at a life. It looks like I'm celebrating my birthday every year but in reality I'm celebrating that day.

12/15/2015: The day our sweet boy passed away. Last December was 2 years. Every year I just try to survive the day. 

March 25th-31st: CDH awareness week. Since 2012 I've been organizing picnics and balloon releases. Last year was the first year that I didn't do so. This year I'm unsure if we will be doing anything. 

Christmas Toy Drive: since 2012 I've been organizing toy drives to benefit Valley Children's hospital. I gathers items then deliver them right before Christmas. This year I'm revamping the drive and choosing 1 type of item to donate in hopes that we can be more successful for the 2018 year.

Grief Journal: Bucket List

13) Write a bucket list.

To write a bucket list would be to look into the future and that's been the hardest thing for me because the future doesn't have my son. There were a million things I wanted to do before I lost my son. Now trying to think of things is difficult. As I sat here writing my bucket list, I cried. And I laughed at some.

I want to see the non profit I co-founded, Sent from Heaven, grow and develop chapters all over the US.

I want to see the day SfH reaches 500 baskets handed to families who have lost their babies.

I want to be able to hug a grieving mother and tell her it'll be ok. That it hurts now, and will always hurt to some extent, but that life is still worth living. And I want to mean it with every fiber of my being.

I want a fresh start. A new home. As hard as it'll be to move to a house my son never lived. I know that he will forever live in my heart and always be with me no matter where I move. In order to pick up all the pieces of my life and start building a new one I know that I have to move. These walls are closing in on me. I still see Liam running through the house. I hear his laugh echo off the walls. I need a new beginning.

I want to get my depression, anxiety and PTSD under control. I want to be healthy and pain free.

I want to rediscover all the things that I once loved. I want to find a passion again. I want to find my happy.

Click here for the entire list of Journal prompts.

I'm Supposed to be...

(Taken December 14th, 2015. The day before he passed)

Last Sunday God gave me just the tiniest piece of peace in my heart.

It's made dealing with the grief of loosing my son, easier I guess. 

It didn't take away the pain, but it made most moments bare able. 

Tonight the grief is overflowing. 

I'm crying fat tears that I can't stop.

It hurts. 

My heart hurts. 

I'm missing him.

How could I not miss him?

Tonight I'm just letting it out. 

Letting it flow. 

I don't understand how we got here.

How I could love this little boy so completely.

And now he's gone. 

Just like that.

The bad thing about PTSD is that no matter how much faith you have, it still rears its ugly heard. 

It still taunts you.

It still makes you relive the pain over and over again.

I've been watching videos of Liam today.

I could almost pretend he was asleep in his bed. 

Instead of playing in heaven.

I hear myself talking to him on the videos and I can hear how happy I was.

I could hear how much I loved him.

I wonder, why me?

Why my son?

God didn't do this. 

It's not punishment.

He's didn't take my son because he needed another angel.

He saved my son when his body couldn't continue any longer. 

God knows how much I loved my son. 

He knows how much it hurt to see him sick.

God knows I would have laid down my life to give my son a long health one.

God knows what's in my heart that I can't put into words. 

As I sit here trying to stop crying and failing, all I keep thinking is,

"I just want my baby back" 

"Why am I being so selfish?"

I'm supposed to be happy for him, that wasn't forced to live a long life of suffering. 

I'm supposed to be happy that he got to go straight to heaven, never having sinned. 

He never had his heart broken, truely broken.

He never felt unloved or unwanted.

I am happy for him. 

But I still miss him so much that it just hurts beyond words sometimes. 

I know that I'll continue to put one foot in front of the other,

Count to ten,

And find my way. 

I know every second of every day will be tinged with the loss and the pain it's caused.

I'm just trying to survive every ten seconds until I can wrap my arms around my son again. 

Breaking the Chains

My therapist loves to tell me:

"grief is a choice. You can choose not to be sad. You can choose to move on"

 This statement, which I've heard others spout, is meant to be reassuring and calming. What they don't take into account, are those stuffing from PTSD. Sure maybe for a normal person they can choose not to be sad all the time, or to move past this and not have flash backs. When you suffer from PTSD, you don't have a choice when the flashbacks strike. Especially if your PTSD has to do with the loss of someone.

Truthfully, I had PTSD before my son passed away. My therapist thinks I've had it since I was around 5. Any traumatic event I went through since then, has only made my PTSD worse. My sons traumatic birth open a flood gate of symptoms and his passing only made it exponentially worse. I have no say when I'll get a flashback or what it's about and I surely can't prevent them. I don't choose to be like this. I don't choose to "live in the past". Having someone say to me that I have a choice is both laughable and hurtful. 

I want to break the chains of stigmatism when it comes to grief, depression and PTSD. When I tell someone that I have PTSD, I can see the change in their eyes. Their pupils get a little bigger, their eyes a little wider. Their mouth opens a little and sometimes even a quiet gasp escapes. All before they even have a chance to school their expression. Some even go as far as taking a step back to put space between us, without even realizing they're doing it. It's not meant to be hurtful. It's just an involuntary action. Yet it still hurts. Everything after that just seems fake and forced. 

PTSD isn't something I go around telling everyone I have. Why would I? In fact it's something I feel I was quiet about all too long. I was afraid of how stupid it sounded that I had PTSD. I have never seen war. I have never been in the military. So yea, even to me it sounded stupid. That was before I found out that the majority of those who have PTSD that is non war related, are afraid to talk about it. 

There are many situations that can cause PTSD. In fact it's name alone explains a lot. Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Do you know what that means? It means any situation that is traumatic can cause PTSD. It's a traumatic situation that puts so much stress on your brain that it goes into what I call "safe mode" in order to protect yourself. Some situations can be blocked from your memory for years  before they surface again and when they do, it comes in flashbacks that feel like your there in that moment all over again. 

Your brain then creates triggers associated with that traumatic event. Smells, sounds, whatever. When your brain recognizes a trigger, it goes into "safe mode". You may start feeling anxious or worried and don't know why. You could get clammy, have a racing heart, experience the feeling of impending doom. This is your brain trying to protect you. It's normal for PTSD sufferers to go through this and more.

For parents that had babies in the NICU, they don't just get better once their child is better. For years they may try to prevent their child from getting sick or hurt. When their child does get sick, or even ends up in the hospital, their symptoms once again act up and they even experience flashbacks from their time in the NICU. Here are some statistics for your:

1.5-6% of of mother's reported having PTSS following childbirth.

26-41% of mother's reported having PTSS after having a premature baby.

27% of parents are reported to have PTSD following PICU.

20% of parents who have a child who suffers from cancer is reported to suffer from PTSS.

44% of NICU mom's are reported to suffer from PTSD,

There's more of us out there than we know, but most are just afraid to come forward and seek the help they need or to talk about what they're going through. If you suffer fro PTSD, PSS, or depression you shouldn't be ashamed. It's not your fault. As I stated above, this is your brains way of trying to protect you. For lots of people, talking about it helps. If you don't feel you can talk to your family or your friends, then seek therapy. It always helps to have a sounding board to let all your fears out on. Someone who will reassure you that, if anything, your not going crazy. I know having since I started therapy after my son passed that it helped me. I'm learning more about what PTSD and depression is and how it affects every aspect of my life.

A therapist will also let you know if you need to seek out a doctor to prescribe medication to help you. Never be ashamed to seek help and to get better. PTSD can make you feel weak but know that your not. After I gave birth to my daughter, I suffered from postpartum depression. I was too ashamed to talk about and seek help. I suffered in silence. As each day, week, month passed, I got worse. It effected every aspect of my life. I got so bad that even cleaning was extremely difficult. After a year and a half, my family sat me down and begged me to seek help. I remember crying and apologizing, telling them I tried so hard. Things got much better after a trip to the doctor and we found a med that worked for me. To think, I wasted all that time suffering just because I was afraid of what others would think.

Lets break the chains of silence about PTSD, PTSS and depression because no one should be ashamed or have to go through this alone.


*PTSS vs PTSD: Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSS) is the name given to the symptoms that are experienced after a traumatic event. These symptoms can also be delayed and appear from up to 3 months after the event, to some forty years or more post-trauma (after the traumatic event).  Post Traumatic Stress Disorder is (in essence) the same thing, except psychiatry prefers to differentiate between symptoms and the fully activated disorder.

Standing Tall

(Taken September 9th, 2012)

Yea I know he's crying but I took a moment to capture this moment in a picture. What appears to be nothing out of the normal to you, was something huge in our world. The aftermath of CDH was tremendous. Sure he flew through NICU at a "mere" 48 days when he wasn't expected to make it but we lived with the devastation of CDH every day from the moment he was born. 

So here is my son, 14 months old at the time. Just a few months prior to this, right before his 1st birthday, he learnt how to sit on his own. He was still wobbly and fell over more often than not, but it was a huge feat for him. Then at 14 months old, he graced us with another trick and pulled himself into a standing position all on his own. 

We were in the hospital and I had "mistakenly" taken a moment to use the restroom. Because of this he had to be put back into the crib. He was fine until I got out of sight for longer than 30 seconds. When I didn't show my face after his grace time, he started crying. Now remember, Liam still did not talk. I rushed out to find he pulled himself into a standing position. I then started crying. 

I snapped the picture then ran to his side. I hugged him, but left him standing because I couldn't get enough of this wonderful sight. The nurse walked in to find us both blubbering away. I started laughing through my tears and Liam followed suit. Soon the tears were gone and it was all laughter. I explained to our nurse what had just happened. She excitedly told Liam what a good boy he was then explained how we forever more, would have to not only keep the bars all the way up at all times, but put a hood on the crib to prevent climbing. I laughed. Liam's great feat resulted in a full on cage to keep my monkey boy in. 

Some of the after effects of CDH were low muscle tone, delayed development, poor fine motor skills and more. Being in the hospital as much as he was, also affected his development. Liam spent more than half his life stuck in a hospital. If you were to adjust for that, he would only be around 2 years old. Because of hard work and determination, he began catching up. It took daily activities at home but we made it fun. By the time he started preschool in 2015, he appeared "normal"*. He was running and jumping with the other kids. He couldn't keep up, but he tried with all his might. 

*The term "normal" here is a realative term. I know that normal isn't really a thing so when I use this, I'm referring to health wise. You have the "normal" kids who are healthy. Then you have the other kids who aren't healthy, like Liam. When I say things like "we wish we had a normal life" to referring to the fact that we wish for healthy. And now that we've lost Liam, our lives are just even farther from normal as you can get. 

Walking up every morning.

Living a life I don't feel is mine. 

I'm here yet I'm so far away. 

I go through the day as if I was someone else in a dream.

I go to work. 

I come home and clean. 

I go to bed. 

My heart just isn't in it. 

I feel so dead inside. 

So empty.

It's been a rough 8 months. 

I can't even tell you how I got from then until now.

And I'm sure I won't be able to tell you how ingot from here until the 1 year mark.

Here we are in the midst of more first. 

I just watched as moms posted their kinders first day if school pictures.

I was proud that these CDHers made it. 

I was proud to see Liam's friends.

But I was sad for me.

For Liam. 

Now fall is on the horizon.

I normally would have started decorating for fall because I love the season. 

The orange leaves, pumpkins, boots and sweaters. 

Loved. 

I'm not sure I still do. 

The only fall item up is the garland I never got around to taking down last year. 

It's depressing. 

Halloween will be here before we know it.

Our first Halloween without Liam. 

Halloween was one of my favorite holidays. 

Now I don't even want to celebrate it. 

Team kids is starting back up and I'll miss his smiling face dancing on stage with Candace. 

I don't want to celebrate thanksgiving without seeing Liam's face covered in food. 

I don't want to spend another Christmas without my baby. 

Our first Christmas without a gift under the tree for him. 

Then there's the year mark. 

Right before Christmas. 

I don't even know how I'm going to get through it. 

I don't that day to ever come. 

I wasn't ready to let him go. 

I try so hard everyday to be strong. 

To just make it through the day. 

I wish I could be stronger. 

I wish I could make things better. 

This is all I have. 

Cold Hard Truth

The truth is, 

having a child changes you. 

Loosing a child destroys you.

I honestly don't think I'll ever ok again. 

I will always be a broken,

Shadow of my former self. 

And that HAS to be ok. 

I lay here on the couch.

The first night in a week I've started falling asleep before 4am. 

I close my eyes and I see Liam. 

And again sleep eludes me. 

My sweet boy laughing because I'm tickling him. 

Him crawling into my lap at bedtime for snuggles and a song. 

His middle of the day naps in my arms because he refused to fall asleep anywhere else. 

Me whispering "I love you Liam". 

The millions of times I whispered in his ear as he slept,

"I'm so proud if you little man. I love you so much. I need you so much. Just keep fighting". 

And I'm broken all over again. 

No I not ok. 

My heart is broken. 

My soul shattered. 

It hurts so much, I don't know if I can take it. 

But I do. 

Every day I do.

Every night I do. 

I feel so lost during the day. 

Feeling as if I should be doing something.

That I'm forgetting something 

I'm always looking at the clock worried about the time. 

And today it clicked. 

I'm still on his schedule. 

I still get up to feed him before I realize, he's not here. 

Sometimes I find myself in the baby aisle, starring at the diapers.

Hand stretched out to grab them. 

Then I remember. 

I catch a glimpse of a cute boys outfit,

I still stop in my tracks to look at it.

Then I remember. 

I'll have his favorite foods in my hands

Then I remember. 

A few times I opened the back door to unbuckle him from his car seat. 

But he's not there.

His seats not there. 

Last night I was up in the middle of the night. 

On my way back to bed I stepped on what felt like a Hotwheel.

My heart expanded in joy,

And I smiled. 

Then I remembered. 

I feel like my life is a cruel joke. 

You like I've been stuck in a dream that's so realistic. 

There are moments I don't know which reality is real anymore. 

But the wooden box,

Sitting on the shelf,

That's real. 

That's my reality. 

I can't hold my son and hear him giggle anymore. 

All I have is a box. 

A cold hard box,

To match this cold hard reality. 

7 Days Till 5

In just 7 days,

my little Liam would have turned 5 years old.

I'm having a hard time grasping the fact that he isn't here.

That I won't be waking him up by singing 'happy birthday'.

That I won't be tickling him until he can't laugh anymore.

It's hard to believe that I won't be planning a party,

or decorating the house.

 

Instead I'm trying to plan something in memory of Liam.

How is this even possible?

I'm so confused by it all.

My heart aches to see him running through the house.

To hear his laughter.

That's the one good thing about PTSD.

I get flashbacks of good memories every now and then.

I can still hear his laughter.

See his smiling face as if it's really there.

I still flashback on all the bad times.

I've tried so hard to run away from them,

but they don't stop.

So I stand there and face it head on,

wait for the flashback to go away.

It's the only way I can survive with less damage.

Here I am stuck between the world of the living,
and the world of the dead.
A piece of my heart will always be in Heaven with Liam.
Yet here I am,
stuck,
trying to find a way to live on.

Birthday parties are fun and happy.
You celebrate,
laugh,
eat cake,
and spoil the birthday boy.

This isn't a birthday party.
It's a memorial thing.
And memorial things are sad.

I have several ideas running through my head to do for little lamb.
I want to have a star named after him.
When I was a kid and my nana died,
I always looked up into the sky.
I felt that when you died,
a star appeared to represent you.
You went to Heaven sure,
but a star would appear for us to see.
It's how I felt as a kid anyway.
I've always loved astronomy,
so naming a star after Liam wouldn't be too far fetched.
And it's something the world can share.

I'm also wanting to release butterflies.
I'm having a hard time getting my hands on caterpillar's or butterflies.
At this rate,
it'll be a butterfly release after his birthday.

I would also like to get a stuffed animal in his memory.
One weighing his birthday weight of 2lbs 4oz.
One weighing his last weight of 23lbs.

Everything else is still up in the air.
Missing him is just so hard.
I still don't know how I wake up every morning.

 

Heavy Heart

When Liam passed, my world shattered. 

I didn't just loose him. 

I lost a life time that we should have had. 

Christmases. 

Watching the ball drop. 

Holidays.

Making treats for his class. 

Watching him learn to ride a bike without training wheels. 

Birthdays. 

In just one month, it will be Liam's birthday. 

A day we should have celebrated with cake and presents. 

Family and friends. 

Smiles and laughter. 

But we lost all that the instant his heart stopped beating. 

Instead of a lifetime of making memories and watched him grow, we have a lifetime ahead of us of pain and heartbreak.

Of what ifs and whys. 

It's a pain you can't understand unless you've gone through it. 

It's breaks your heart. 

Feels like your hearts in a vice.

It rips your soul to shreds until you can barely see the light, if at all most days. 

It breaks you like nothing else can. 

The pieces lay there, but you'll never pick them all up. 

You'll never put them all back together. 

There will always be something missing. 

For me, that's Liam. 

My son never made it to 5 years old.

I always said when he turned 5 that we were going to have a huge party to celebrate his life and how far he'd come. 

But he never made it. 

Because of CDH. 

Because CDH caused his lungs to be weak and his immune system to struggle. 

Because he couldn't fight off a virus that wouldn't harm a healthy person. 

A virus that was basically your common cold. 

Because of CDH his little body couldn't fight it and it turned into a blood infection and a pulmonary embolism that took him away from us. 

I can't tell you how much I hate CDH for what it's done to our lives. 

To our son. 

I should be planning a party for my little lamb.

But instead I'm sitting here crying afraid of what that day will bring. 

One day post op from repair surgery. Liam was 8 days old. http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2012/07/looking-back-72211.html 

A look back on Liam's first year http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2012/07/rewind.html 

First cuddles 

http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2014/07/first-cuddles-72811.html

First family photo http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2014/07/first-cuddles-72811.html

Bringing Liam home from NICU 

http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2012/08/bringing-bbay-homea-year-ago-today.html

Liam's first Christmas Eve http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2011/12/bryants-special-christmas-eve.html 

Liam's first Christmas http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2011/12/blessed-christmas.html

Liam's first New Years 

http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2011/12/blessed-christmas.html

Almost 6 months old http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2012/01/almost-6-months.html

First trip to Build A Bear http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2012/01/first-trip-to-build-bear-workshop.html 

6 months old http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2012/01/6-months-old-today.html

First trip to church http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2012/01/1st-trip-to-church.html 

11 month old pictures http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2012/06/11-months-old.html

Liam's 1 year photos http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2012/07/liams-one-year-pictures.html

Liam's 1st birthday party http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2012/07/we-made-it.html

First trip to the pumpkin patch 

http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2012/10/liams-first-trip-to-pumpkin-patch.html

Liam's 2 year photos http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2013/07/take-1.html

Liam's 2nd birthday 

http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2013/07/liams-2nd-birthday-pt-1.html

Looking back at Liam's 2nd year so far http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2013/11/joyful-and-triumphant.html

2013 in review http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2014/01/2013-in-review.html

1 day post op medoport removal 

http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2014/07/1-day-post-op-medi-port-removal.html

Almost 3 years old http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2014/07/3-days-till-3.html 

Liam's 1st thanksgiving class party. His first year of preschool http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2014/11/liam-1st-thanksgiving-class-party.html

Liam's 4th (and last) birthday 

http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2015/07/4.html

Liam's 1st and 2nd day of Preschooo (year 2) 

http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2015/08/liam-1st-and-2nd-day-of-preschool.html

Liam's last school picture day http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2015/10/picture-day-and-more.html

Stomping in puddles 

http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2015/10/stomping-puddles.html

The beginning of the end http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2015/10/fighting-uphill-battle.html

Continuing to fight 

http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2015/10/x-rays-and-o2.html

The day we lost him 

http://mommyconfessionalinmyshoes.blogspot.com/2015/12/the-loss.html

There is so much about his life not posted on this blog, but one day at a time, there will be more to tell.

Sliding Emotions

Going to the park since Liam passed has been so hard. I avoid them like the plague. Or I did until it seemed life started pushing me back. We've been 3 times, and it was extremely hard every time. I have to try not to cry just driving by one. Especially the park next to the kids school because that was the last park Liam ever played at. Where we spent many days the last two months, hanging out and waiting for sister to get out of school. 

Those were some of the happiest days we had. Just running around like a healthy boy with no troubles in the world. The days seem to be some of the hardest times to remember because they were so filled with happiness, love, healing, without an ounce of owl edge of what was so come. To say I'm not sitting here crying as I write this, just thinking about those days, would be a lie. I am and I probably will cry for a long time to come. 

Liam changed everything. From the moment I found out I was pregnant with him, my world was turned upside down. You see, everything about Liam's life was a surprise. We hadn't planned to get pregnant for another year. It was a shock yet a welcomed surprise. Then when we found out he was a boy, the world couldn't have been more right. Of course the pregnancy didn't go smoothly but that's for another time. His birth was a surprise. We had a planned C section scheduled for two weeks from the day he came, but he wouldn't wait. He never waited for anything.

 Liam always had his own timeline an did things his own way. You could fight against his power force and struggle, or you could embrace it and accept him as he was. Acceptance wasn't easy at first I admit, but it didn't take long to realize that Liam was a force to be reckoned with and he wasn't changing. He was a fighter and I loved that about him. The biggest surprise of all was his passing. I could tell the story a million times and you'd never feel what I felt that day or even now. I stood there over my sons still body and looked up at my husband and asked the most heart broken question he will ever hear in his life. "What do we do now?" And he knew that I was irreverently broken and shuddered and that picking up those pieces would be impossible. 

But I'm getting off track. Since Liam's passing, I find parks are just a horrible reminder that have lost something so vital in my life. I see ghost memories of my son playing on the swings or sliding down the slide. I hear his sweet laugh ring in the air. And I'm broken all over again. It's gotten easier to hide the pain at times. I know the pain will never go away. I know that pain is there because I loved Liam so very much, with every fiber of my being. Every part of my soul. And I hurt as much as I love him. 

I read an article just before sitting here to write this, called Playgorunds and Cemetaries ( http://www.stillmothers.com/2016/06/13/playgrounds-and-cemeteries/ ). I'm the article she wondered if other parents were drawn to strange Cemetaries as she was after her daughter passed. Before reading this article, I didn't think anyone else felt this way. 

I've never been squirmish about Cemetaries as a teen I would pick flowers from our yard, ride my bike to the cemetery across town and lay flowers on headstones of those that seemed to be neglected I've the years. I'd walk through the child's section and I would feel the sadness that lingered from their parents grieving. I'd pray for these families that lost their babies and I'd hope to never have to feel that pain. You see when I feel something, I feel it deeply and completely. I always have. I didn't know until recently that it was because I suffered from PTSD since I was a small child (according to my therapist).

For awhile it's been weighing on my heart that I don't have a place to go visit my son. When he passed, I couldn't bear the thought of seeing his little body in a casket. I couldn't bear the thought of seeing him put in the ground. When he passed, I became certain of a few things. That I would live in pain and heartbreak until the day I die. And that I wanted him cremated and with me always. My husband felt the same. Now his urn sets on a shelf in the corner shelf system, surrounded by pictures and his toys. 

What I've learnt from this decision is that it leaves you with no place to go and grieve. No place to go and reflect. I feel drawn to walk through Cemetaries, leave flowers on the graves of babies gone too soon and say a prayer for those families. And I realized that it's because I have no set place to go do this for my son. That needs to change, and it will. That's my next project on the list of so many that needs to be done.