Christmas morning has come. The presents have all been opened. The bubbas have been entertained all morning with Legos and Angry Birds and video games. All the preparation of the last month. All the worry that it would all be just so. That everyone got at least one thing they really wanted. All of it over in minutes.
As I sit here sipping my coffee, listening to the sounds of four little boys as they work together to put together their Legos, I know I am blessed. Yet there is also this feeling that someone is missing. Always. His absence is felt. The boys and their sissy were talking about Sterling last night. How old he would be now. What they thought he would be like. What toys they thought he would like. And their voices always drift off. It hurts.
This is our third Christmas without Sterling physically here. We only had one with him and he was only two months old. He still slept most of his day. He was mesmerized by the Christmas tree lights and the music. But he was too little to open presents and understand Santa and Jesus. I look through the pictures of that Christmas and I see five happy, smiling faces. They were all so little and the world was still a safe, happy place.
December 2011 changed all that. Our entire family learned in an instant that life can be scary and unpredictable. That Christmas just 22 days after Sterling died was such a blur. I read somewhere its called God's anesthetic. Because if we had felt the magnitude of our loss and pain immediately we surely would not have survived. It has come off in small doses over the course of the last two years.
I wonder if that is why this third Christmas hurts so much more? I wonder if its because he would be three now and would be completely "getting" it all this year? I wonder if its because his bubbas are getting older and realizing more and more what they lost, what our family lost? I have no idea. I just wish more then anything that we had another Christmas with Sterling.
The bubbas and I decided this year that we would buy a gift or two that we thought Sterling would like and donate it to the PICU where Sterling spent the last two days of his life. Then the stomach flu hit us last week and then an ice storm so we weren't able to take them but we will in the next few days. Its a tradition that brings us some joy. It also allows us to share Sterling's memory while giving back to the hospital that has done so much for us during some of our darkest moments.
I also want to wish all of you out there in blogland a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Thank you so much for reading my ramblings we heal and find hope along the way.
Sterling is an amazing 13 month old who stopped breathing during his nap as a result of multiple congenital heart defects that had gone undiagnosed. Life as I knew it was over. The pain excrutiating. I often felt like I had died that day too. Slowly I began to see the gifts of Sterling. Follow me as my boys and I find new purpose in our lives. Watch as Sterling continues to do amazing things through each one of us. Always and Forever sweet boy.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
A letter to Sterling's Bubbas......
My boys have been struggling with their grief. They lost their brother and their mother. I know our lives will never be the same but different doesn't have to mean bad. Our lives can be good again. So I started working with a counselor for the kids. Surprise, surprise, I am looking at myself more closely and realizing my own issues and how they are affecting my boys. But this is a good thing. Knowing what needs to be fixed means its fixable.
We finally have a counselor that gives me hope. I know it will be a long road ahead for us. I know that what happened was traumatic and we are all forever changed. I know we are hurting unlike anything else we have ever felt before. But I love my boys and I am willing to do the work to help heal their little hearts. I am making this letter to my boys public so that I may hold myself more accountable.
Dear Boys,
I know it was scary when Sterling died. I know you saw me scared and crying and that scared you. I know you didn't understand what was going on. One minute your baby brother was here and the next he was gone. And there were police in our house. And Mommy gone. And Grammy gone. For days we were gone and you were at home with friends who tried their best but weren't your Mommy. In those days you came to a hospital to see us and your baby brother was so swollen and had lots of wires and tubes. I know that scared you. And I am so very sorry you were so scared.
When Mommy came home without your brother you needed routine and Mommy tried. I really tried. But my heart was so very broken. You asked if I would be this sad if it had been one of you instead of the baby. I told you I would still be this sad, I love you all. And then I retreated into my pain, into my fear. I tried to be the best Mommy to you but my heart hurt so bad I didn't always succeed. I am so very sorry for that.
From this day on I promise you I will work harder to be the Mommy you deserve. The one who gives you her full attention as much as possible. The one who will live in the moment again. When I snuggle you, I promise to not think about anything but how much I love you. I promise to work hard with your counselor to find ways to make you feel safe and loved again. I promise I will work hard to not yell or lose my temper, please know grief left me raw and it really wasn't any one of you.
I love you all so much. I always said the angels brought each one of you into my life. I was always meant to be your Mommy. Our lives may not be easy but our love will always remain strong. We are hurting because of our great love for Sterling. And that love will help us heal. I promise you that.
Love you always and forever,
Mommy
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Two Years....
On this date two years ago at 12:34 in the afternoon Sterling was pronounced dead after taking his final breath in my arms. I remember so vividly the staff telling me they were going to silence the alarms and then they would turn off all the life saving machines that were keeping my baby alive. They told me he would go quickly. But I had been praying, begging, pleading that my baby take a breath. I would take care of him forever, just please let him live. I was sure he was going to live.
I remember the doctor coming in and putting that stethoscope to my baby's chest. He put his head down and said "I'm sorry, he's gone. Time of death...." I heard nothing else. The sounds that came from somewhere so deep within my soul....the sounds that came from my daughter. I would learn later my sister had to catch her as she screamed "NO!" and her knees went out on her. My mother moaning. Everyone around us with tears. And then as it got quiet, one by one they left the room.
I was left alone, staring at my beautiful baby boy. His little body so swollen. But still my beautiful baby boy. I wanted the nurses to take the breathing tube out of his mouth but they couldn't. The coroner wanted it left in. But I wanted, needed to kiss his lips. So the nurse cut it back. And I kissed my baby's lips. I kissed his cheeks. I held his hand. I never wanted to let him go. Never. But his body began showing death and I couldn't watch it anymore. The coroner was called.
I heard his voice. He said "I'm not putting her baby on a stretcher or a body bag. Do you have an infant car seat?" They did. He sat down to ask some questions while I held my baby. When he was done I can't remember if I handed my baby to him or if I put him in the car seat. I can remember so much but some details still elude me. I do know that I asked if I could walk him out. I was so weak from not eating for a few days and from crying for days straight that they wouldn't let me walk. And they wouldn't let me carry my baby. So I was wheeled while Sterling was carried in the car seat. As we got to the door I asked to see him once more.
I pulled the blanket back and kissed him once more. I don't remember much else except telling him to make sure he kept Sterling covered and warm because it was cold out. And please take care of him. He promised me he would and he left. I went very weak and nearly fell but the ladies grabbed me and helped me into the wheelchair. I sat wondering when I was going to wake up, please God let me wake up! My mother and niece pulled up with my van and I was helped in. I turned around and there was my baby's car seat. Empty.
Silence. The ride home was silent. Christmas music was on the radio and I hated it. I looked at the gloomy day (the weather much like it was today) and all the cars and bustle of our town. All I could think was that none of these people knew. None of them knew that the world just lost the most precious, sweetest, loving, amazing little boy ever. How could they just go about their day like nothing happened?
That was my first experience in the loneliness of grief. My world was shattered but everyone else still went about their day. They still had their innocence and mine was gone. I have worked hard these last two years on healing. On coming to terms with the life I have now. Working hard at keeping my son's memory alive. Finding balance between the two worlds I now live in. I have worked hard on the anger that not only I have but Sterling's bubbas have as well. How do we use that in a healthy way?
So as I am sitting tonight in a quiet house. Everyone sleeping. I let it all go. I cry. I question. I look for hope in this sea of sadness. I miss my baby, I always will. I can come to terms with the fact that he lived and died just as he was always meant to, but I never have to like it.
Sterling is loved just as much today as he was two years ago. In many ways he is loved more. Love has a funny way of growing over time that way. Even if the person we love has left their bodies, our love grows. I live with the hope that I will one day be reunited with him. That I will be able to kiss and hold and hug him again. Its the only way I survive this life without him.
I remember the doctor coming in and putting that stethoscope to my baby's chest. He put his head down and said "I'm sorry, he's gone. Time of death...." I heard nothing else. The sounds that came from somewhere so deep within my soul....the sounds that came from my daughter. I would learn later my sister had to catch her as she screamed "NO!" and her knees went out on her. My mother moaning. Everyone around us with tears. And then as it got quiet, one by one they left the room.
I was left alone, staring at my beautiful baby boy. His little body so swollen. But still my beautiful baby boy. I wanted the nurses to take the breathing tube out of his mouth but they couldn't. The coroner wanted it left in. But I wanted, needed to kiss his lips. So the nurse cut it back. And I kissed my baby's lips. I kissed his cheeks. I held his hand. I never wanted to let him go. Never. But his body began showing death and I couldn't watch it anymore. The coroner was called.
I heard his voice. He said "I'm not putting her baby on a stretcher or a body bag. Do you have an infant car seat?" They did. He sat down to ask some questions while I held my baby. When he was done I can't remember if I handed my baby to him or if I put him in the car seat. I can remember so much but some details still elude me. I do know that I asked if I could walk him out. I was so weak from not eating for a few days and from crying for days straight that they wouldn't let me walk. And they wouldn't let me carry my baby. So I was wheeled while Sterling was carried in the car seat. As we got to the door I asked to see him once more.
I pulled the blanket back and kissed him once more. I don't remember much else except telling him to make sure he kept Sterling covered and warm because it was cold out. And please take care of him. He promised me he would and he left. I went very weak and nearly fell but the ladies grabbed me and helped me into the wheelchair. I sat wondering when I was going to wake up, please God let me wake up! My mother and niece pulled up with my van and I was helped in. I turned around and there was my baby's car seat. Empty.
Silence. The ride home was silent. Christmas music was on the radio and I hated it. I looked at the gloomy day (the weather much like it was today) and all the cars and bustle of our town. All I could think was that none of these people knew. None of them knew that the world just lost the most precious, sweetest, loving, amazing little boy ever. How could they just go about their day like nothing happened?
That was my first experience in the loneliness of grief. My world was shattered but everyone else still went about their day. They still had their innocence and mine was gone. I have worked hard these last two years on healing. On coming to terms with the life I have now. Working hard at keeping my son's memory alive. Finding balance between the two worlds I now live in. I have worked hard on the anger that not only I have but Sterling's bubbas have as well. How do we use that in a healthy way?
So as I am sitting tonight in a quiet house. Everyone sleeping. I let it all go. I cry. I question. I look for hope in this sea of sadness. I miss my baby, I always will. I can come to terms with the fact that he lived and died just as he was always meant to, but I never have to like it.
Sterling is loved just as much today as he was two years ago. In many ways he is loved more. Love has a funny way of growing over time that way. Even if the person we love has left their bodies, our love grows. I live with the hope that I will one day be reunited with him. That I will be able to kiss and hold and hug him again. Its the only way I survive this life without him.
Monday, November 25, 2013
November
This is the only month I had two of with Sterling. Two full, glorious Novembers with the sweetest, most loving little boy in my arms. It should be my favorite month. But its also the month I feel I should've seen the signs my baby was dying. I still get lost in that. All the what if's and all the should haves. Some days I feel like I can't breath. Some days I don't want to get out of bed. Some days I feel like my children deserve better then me for a mom.
I try. I really do. I want to focus on his life. I want to focus on the love and those beautiful brown eyes filled with love. I want to remember how happy he was, how happy we all were. I try to remember that. Some days it takes all my energy to do it. Other days I can't stop wondering when it was that I could've or should've done something differently and would he still be here? Would my baby be a full of life three year old today if I had just done something differently? And what is it that I should've done? Will I ever know?
That threatens my sanity some days. All the research I have done and I still am not sure what could've been done differently. Or even if it had been done differently, would the outcome have changed? I still don't know. Five days away from the two year mark. Two years and I still don't really know what I could've done to save my baby's life. I hate every single thing about that last paragraph.
So I keep getting up. Each day. I go and work out. I work. I think about Sterling. I talk about him. I try to parent his bubbas the best way I know how. I take time to learn new, better ways to help them. To help me. All the while thinking about my baby boy. All the while hoping I will get to see him again one day. I tell his story. I spread awareness.
I do all of this with a heavy heart. Even if I can help save others. Even if I can figure out the precise moment when I should've known Sterling was so sick. Even if I figure out exactly what we should've done that would've saved his life. Even if...even if...even if....Sterling is never coming back to me, not the way my heart and arms long for. And that leaves me feeling sick.
Sunday, October 13, 2013
A letter to Sterling on his 3rd birthday.....
Dearest Sterling,
Today you turn 3. I can't believe it! Three years ago I had begun getting this feeling. It was kind of like a little voice saying "another baby would be nice" even though I had tried so hard to convince myself that I was done. A grown daughter and four young sons was good. But then the nesting started. I know that's what it was now. Three years ago I just wanted to clean everything up and felt a little anxious.
On October 15 I got a call. They were just letting me know you had been born and I think feeling me out. Quickly the words came out of my mouth "how soon can I see him!" I will never forget going up there and seeing you laying there all alone in the nursery. Your little arm in a diaper because you had an IV. I immediately picked you up. You opened your eyes and in that instant I knew you were my son. I knew when I got the call but seeing you just, well my heart was now yours forever.
You looked like your bubbas. As you would grow and change I could see each one of them in you more and more. You were the perfect blend of them. You had the best personality! Very Zen. Rarely were you upset. Only when you wanted me and couldn't would you fuss. You and I were very connected on a level that I find hard to explain sometimes. You had that connection with Silas too.
He was only 2 1/2 when you were born. You looked most like him too. I called you my twins because you just had this bond that your other brothers were sometimes jealous of. I fell in love on a whole other level watching your bubbas fall in love with you. Starting that first day I brought you home from the hospital. They had waited in the van with Grammy while I went up to spring you. They could barely contain themselves as we got closer. I loved sharing you with them.
I enjoyed every moment we had together here on Earth. I wouldn't trade those moments for anything. I never thought I could live without you, sweet boy. Its been hard. I can't believe you left your body almost 2 years ago. I can't believe our family has survived. I can't believe I ever thought you left me. You didn't. You have been here all along.
I long to hold you like I used to. But there are nights when I smell you, have a memory flash right before my eyes of you, of your smile. And then I feel you in my arms. I close my eyes and I feel you sitting in my lap, your head on my chest. We rock in the rocking chair and I get to feel you again. I would give anything for your death to be some nightmare I can wake up from. But I can't. And I am so grateful for those moments I got to have with you.
This year the babies born today at the same hospital you were will go home with a Lovey and a little education on CHD's. They are beautiful and soft! You would love them!! And the designs are giraffes!! Just like your favorite Sophie!! I would love to be having your birthday party Sterling. I would love to be overspending and spoiling you today. Instead the babies who share your birthday will get a little gift. We also donated a few bags of new socks and underwear to the homeless kids in our community in your honor. And tonight our family will once again be letting some lanterns go. The weather is much better tonight then last year so I am super excited to see them all light up the night sky for you.
You were and are an amazing son. I always felt so lucky to be your mom. I miss you. I miss everything about you. But I know you never left me. Please come visit me in my dreams again soon sweet boy. You are loved and you are missed, always and forever......
Love,
Mom
Today you turn 3. I can't believe it! Three years ago I had begun getting this feeling. It was kind of like a little voice saying "another baby would be nice" even though I had tried so hard to convince myself that I was done. A grown daughter and four young sons was good. But then the nesting started. I know that's what it was now. Three years ago I just wanted to clean everything up and felt a little anxious.
On October 15 I got a call. They were just letting me know you had been born and I think feeling me out. Quickly the words came out of my mouth "how soon can I see him!" I will never forget going up there and seeing you laying there all alone in the nursery. Your little arm in a diaper because you had an IV. I immediately picked you up. You opened your eyes and in that instant I knew you were my son. I knew when I got the call but seeing you just, well my heart was now yours forever.
You looked like your bubbas. As you would grow and change I could see each one of them in you more and more. You were the perfect blend of them. You had the best personality! Very Zen. Rarely were you upset. Only when you wanted me and couldn't would you fuss. You and I were very connected on a level that I find hard to explain sometimes. You had that connection with Silas too.
He was only 2 1/2 when you were born. You looked most like him too. I called you my twins because you just had this bond that your other brothers were sometimes jealous of. I fell in love on a whole other level watching your bubbas fall in love with you. Starting that first day I brought you home from the hospital. They had waited in the van with Grammy while I went up to spring you. They could barely contain themselves as we got closer. I loved sharing you with them.
I enjoyed every moment we had together here on Earth. I wouldn't trade those moments for anything. I never thought I could live without you, sweet boy. Its been hard. I can't believe you left your body almost 2 years ago. I can't believe our family has survived. I can't believe I ever thought you left me. You didn't. You have been here all along.
I long to hold you like I used to. But there are nights when I smell you, have a memory flash right before my eyes of you, of your smile. And then I feel you in my arms. I close my eyes and I feel you sitting in my lap, your head on my chest. We rock in the rocking chair and I get to feel you again. I would give anything for your death to be some nightmare I can wake up from. But I can't. And I am so grateful for those moments I got to have with you.
This year the babies born today at the same hospital you were will go home with a Lovey and a little education on CHD's. They are beautiful and soft! You would love them!! And the designs are giraffes!! Just like your favorite Sophie!! I would love to be having your birthday party Sterling. I would love to be overspending and spoiling you today. Instead the babies who share your birthday will get a little gift. We also donated a few bags of new socks and underwear to the homeless kids in our community in your honor. And tonight our family will once again be letting some lanterns go. The weather is much better tonight then last year so I am super excited to see them all light up the night sky for you.
You were and are an amazing son. I always felt so lucky to be your mom. I miss you. I miss everything about you. But I know you never left me. Please come visit me in my dreams again soon sweet boy. You are loved and you are missed, always and forever......
Love,
Mom
Monday, October 7, 2013
Capture Your Giref: Day 3 Myths
There are so many myths associated with grieving. So many. I heard I would never be happy again. My life was over. The one that hurt the most was hearing that I should be happy that my son was with God now. That I shouldn't question God. That He has a higher plan and I should be happy and content in that belief.
I question everything now. I don't believe my son is in some far off place with God. mainly because I don't believe God is in some far off place. I believe my son and God are everywhere. And that includes right here with me.
I feel Sterling in the cool Fall breeze just as I felt him in the warm summer winds. I see him in the beauty of each changing season. I feel him everywhere. I see him in his brother's faces. Hear him in their laughter. When a butterfly circles around us and seems to kiss us. When the birds stop and seem to stare right into our eyes and hold it for what feels like forever. And when I close my eyes I can feel my baby in my arms. I feel his head resting on my chest. I swear I can hear him breathing at times.
I truly feel God is around me too. God is in the beauty of this wonderful Earth He created. And I think God can handle my questions. He can handle my hurt feelings and my anger. My son is dead. I will question everything until I don't need to anymore.
I question everything now. I don't believe my son is in some far off place with God. mainly because I don't believe God is in some far off place. I believe my son and God are everywhere. And that includes right here with me.
I feel Sterling in the cool Fall breeze just as I felt him in the warm summer winds. I see him in the beauty of each changing season. I feel him everywhere. I see him in his brother's faces. Hear him in their laughter. When a butterfly circles around us and seems to kiss us. When the birds stop and seem to stare right into our eyes and hold it for what feels like forever. And when I close my eyes I can feel my baby in my arms. I feel his head resting on my chest. I swear I can hear him breathing at times.
I truly feel God is around me too. God is in the beauty of this wonderful Earth He created. And I think God can handle my questions. He can handle my hurt feelings and my anger. My son is dead. I will question everything until I don't need to anymore.
Capture your Giref: Day 2 Identity
Sterling Isaac is my son's name. He is my fifth son and I had a hard time finding the perfect name for him. Sterling was a name I had contemplated using for his older brother. I am so grateful I didn't because it really fit his personality well. Finding a middle name was much harder and I prayed often over what middle name my son should have. During one of these moments with Sterling in my arms the name Isaac came to me. As I looked down and my perfect baby sleeping in my arms I whispered "Sterling Isaac" and knew that was his name.
Sterling means "of the highest quality" and Isaac is "one who laughs." I never really looked up the meaning of either until after Sterling died. I remember a friend emailing me and telling me how perfect his name was for him because he had the biggest, brightest smile and was such a happy baby. She was right. Sterling smiled often and feely and everyone, especially if he was in my arms. The world was always a great place from Mom's arms.
Sterling had the biggest brown eyes that would just draw anyone and everyone in. People gravitated to him and would comment on his eyes and his smile. He was so loved by his siblings and he knew it. He would just make a little "ugh" sound and they would come running with "what do you need Bubba?!" and Sterling would smile and giggle. It was always such a treat for me to watch my children dote on him. Sterling made me fall in love with each one of my children all over again each time I watched the love and care between them.
Sterling was chunky and funny and happy and amazing. He was the perfect baby of the family. Very Zen in nature. He was happy as long as Mommy was holding him or nearby while he explored his world. He rarely fussed unless he didn't feel well or if he was hungry or needed to be changed. Sterling was and will always be, Love.
Sterling means "of the highest quality" and Isaac is "one who laughs." I never really looked up the meaning of either until after Sterling died. I remember a friend emailing me and telling me how perfect his name was for him because he had the biggest, brightest smile and was such a happy baby. She was right. Sterling smiled often and feely and everyone, especially if he was in my arms. The world was always a great place from Mom's arms.
Sterling had the biggest brown eyes that would just draw anyone and everyone in. People gravitated to him and would comment on his eyes and his smile. He was so loved by his siblings and he knew it. He would just make a little "ugh" sound and they would come running with "what do you need Bubba?!" and Sterling would smile and giggle. It was always such a treat for me to watch my children dote on him. Sterling made me fall in love with each one of my children all over again each time I watched the love and care between them.
Sterling was chunky and funny and happy and amazing. He was the perfect baby of the family. Very Zen in nature. He was happy as long as Mommy was holding him or nearby while he explored his world. He rarely fussed unless he didn't feel well or if he was hungry or needed to be changed. Sterling was and will always be, Love.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Confused but finding my way....
Sterling's 3rd birthday is in a few weeks. I cannot believe it. It feels like yesterday I was going up to the hospital to meet him for the first time. Love at first sight! I cherished every moment with Sterling and even knowing this pain of living without him in his physical body, I would choose to be his mom again and again. This pain is because of the great love we shared. I would rather live with the pain then to have never known and loved him.
I have been working on a project with the hospital on a memorial project to raise awareness for CHD's on his birthday. Its been emotionally draining and yet at the very same time it giving me hope. Its making me look forward to his birthday this year. Its giving me something good to do again on a day that should be celebrated. The day that Sterling Isaac came into the world. It was a very joyous time for me, for his sissy and his bubbas. For our whole family. Sterling was and continues to be a cherished, adored and loved little boy.
I just wish he was physically here for me to hold and see. I wonder what his voice would sound like today? I wonder what his hair would feel like? I wonder if he would still be chunky? Or would he have thinned out? I wonder if his personality would still be the sweetest or would he have some sass? I wonder if he would still be a Momma's boy? I wonder if everyone would still be drawn to him? I wonder so many things that I will never know.
I am tying to figure out how to live in this place of not knowing. I have ideas of who Sterling would be today but I really don't know. Its just like I have ideas of where Sterling is right now but I don't have concrete knowledge. I am the person who typically needs the concrete. My faith has been shaken and I am still trying to get it back. I don't trust anything anymore. Life is so unpredictable. I have struggled and I know I have shared often on here. I have moments where I feel like my faith is coming back, but then I have moments when it feels lost once again. Add in my PTSD and it can be a recipe for disaster if those around me don't understand it all. And being honest, most around me just don't get it. Being honest I really hope they never do.
This just makes me feel even more alone and lost. I really am confused. Yes, still as we are coming up on the two year mark of Sterling's death. Yes. I am able to do much more today then last year at this time. I can tell his story without always crying uncontrollably. I can talk about Sterling with a smile on my face instead of tears. But inside I am still hurting. And I am ok with that. My son is dead. I watched him take his last breath. I had begged everyone and anyone who would listen to let my son live. I begged him not to leave me. I pleaded with God. And yet I held my son as he left his body. I held him and watched as his body changed with death. I kissed and held that body, still hoping they were all wrong. Still hoping my eyes were lying to me. So why wouldn't I be hurting and confused?
I am so thankful for all the opportunities and friendships that Sterling's death has gifted me. I truly am. And I am growing tired of talking about Sterling's death. I am hopeful that this is from me healing. I am hopeful that in another year I will be able to go out with friends and not feel an immense tug at my soul making me feel like going home and retreating under the covers. I am hopeful that in another year I will be able to not feel so torn when I am being gifted a friendship or an opportunity. I am hopeful that I can feel the sadness and embrace it and in it still find the joy. I have begun to do this but it takes so much work for me and it drains me. Will life ever not be so much work again? And do I want it to be anything less?
So I will continue to live while my youngest son will only live on in each one of us. I will continue to try to find my way in a world that seems so unpredictable now. In a world that I see so much more meaning in the things that most people do not. I will continue to try to figure out where I belong and who I am now. I will continue to raise awareness in hopes that another family doesn't know what any of this is like. I will continue to be grateful for the gifts Sterling brought us in life and continues to bring us in death. I will be grateful for my life and for all of those who see my brokenness and love me anyway.
I have been working on a project with the hospital on a memorial project to raise awareness for CHD's on his birthday. Its been emotionally draining and yet at the very same time it giving me hope. Its making me look forward to his birthday this year. Its giving me something good to do again on a day that should be celebrated. The day that Sterling Isaac came into the world. It was a very joyous time for me, for his sissy and his bubbas. For our whole family. Sterling was and continues to be a cherished, adored and loved little boy.
I just wish he was physically here for me to hold and see. I wonder what his voice would sound like today? I wonder what his hair would feel like? I wonder if he would still be chunky? Or would he have thinned out? I wonder if his personality would still be the sweetest or would he have some sass? I wonder if he would still be a Momma's boy? I wonder if everyone would still be drawn to him? I wonder so many things that I will never know.
I am tying to figure out how to live in this place of not knowing. I have ideas of who Sterling would be today but I really don't know. Its just like I have ideas of where Sterling is right now but I don't have concrete knowledge. I am the person who typically needs the concrete. My faith has been shaken and I am still trying to get it back. I don't trust anything anymore. Life is so unpredictable. I have struggled and I know I have shared often on here. I have moments where I feel like my faith is coming back, but then I have moments when it feels lost once again. Add in my PTSD and it can be a recipe for disaster if those around me don't understand it all. And being honest, most around me just don't get it. Being honest I really hope they never do.
This just makes me feel even more alone and lost. I really am confused. Yes, still as we are coming up on the two year mark of Sterling's death. Yes. I am able to do much more today then last year at this time. I can tell his story without always crying uncontrollably. I can talk about Sterling with a smile on my face instead of tears. But inside I am still hurting. And I am ok with that. My son is dead. I watched him take his last breath. I had begged everyone and anyone who would listen to let my son live. I begged him not to leave me. I pleaded with God. And yet I held my son as he left his body. I held him and watched as his body changed with death. I kissed and held that body, still hoping they were all wrong. Still hoping my eyes were lying to me. So why wouldn't I be hurting and confused?
I am so thankful for all the opportunities and friendships that Sterling's death has gifted me. I truly am. And I am growing tired of talking about Sterling's death. I am hopeful that this is from me healing. I am hopeful that in another year I will be able to go out with friends and not feel an immense tug at my soul making me feel like going home and retreating under the covers. I am hopeful that in another year I will be able to not feel so torn when I am being gifted a friendship or an opportunity. I am hopeful that I can feel the sadness and embrace it and in it still find the joy. I have begun to do this but it takes so much work for me and it drains me. Will life ever not be so much work again? And do I want it to be anything less?
So I will continue to live while my youngest son will only live on in each one of us. I will continue to try to find my way in a world that seems so unpredictable now. In a world that I see so much more meaning in the things that most people do not. I will continue to try to figure out where I belong and who I am now. I will continue to raise awareness in hopes that another family doesn't know what any of this is like. I will continue to be grateful for the gifts Sterling brought us in life and continues to bring us in death. I will be grateful for my life and for all of those who see my brokenness and love me anyway.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Change is hard....
September is here. Fall is near. Back to school. Pumpkin Patches and Apple Orchards. Crisp air. And Sterling. Sterling was born on October 13, 2010. His birth made my favorite season all the more special. I love Fall. Having grown up in Southern California without ever really seeing leaves change colors and fall off the trees, I really and truly loved every Fall since moving to the Midwest.
I noticed a feeling in me starting at the end of the summer. I felt a distinct change when school started. I began feeling a little dread. Nothing like last year, but its there. Then last weekend, Labor Day weekend, I decided that the little boys needed big boy beds. They had been sleeping in their own beds before Sterling died. After Sterling's death they refused to sleep in their beds anymore. I couldn't handle them being in a different room from me either so I let them sleep with me, I was barely sleeping anyway. But now they are older, both in school all day and just physically getting bigger. So we went to Target to shop for new bedding and then to the furniture store for new beds.
I noticed that I was very short with everyone all weekend. I had that fight or flight feeling in my chest. As I began taking pictures of the old beds and then taking them down and putting up the new beds it hit me. Their beds had remained unchanged since that last night we all slept in our own beds, the last night Sterling slept in our home. I was changing the bedroom all three little boys shared. As soon as I acknowledged my feelings the flood of tears came. And then peace.
The boys were excited to sleep in their beds. They fell asleep within minutes. I was left in the silence of the room to talk to my sweet Sterling. His crib is still up. The boys don't want it taken down, I don't either. Its crazy. I know. But we have put away many of Sterling's things. We have even begun changing and redecorating our home. But his crib? No one in our home is ready to take it down. Once we take that down there will be nothing of his left up in our home.
His pictures will always be everywhere in our home. But all his clothing, his strollers, his high chair, his bottles....they have all been safely packed away. With each item we pack away we realize that the item is special to us, but it is not Sterling. Sterling is here in our home because he is here in our hearts, forever. He lives on in each one of us.
When the boys have a project about themselves I have to talk them out of filling their poster boards with pictures of Sterling. When they see a giraffe or a butterfly, they immediately say "Hi Sterling!! Love you Bubba!" When Silas picked out bedding with an Africa scene because of the giraffe. All of these things remind me that Sterling is still very much alive in each one of us.
So as we get closer to Fall. Closer to the day that would've been Sterling's third birthday. I can sit quietly, pumpkin spiced latte in hand, and feel my baby all around me. I will never stop missing him. I will never stop wondering who he would be today. But I know he never left me. And I live each day with hope that one day the veil will drop and I will see my baby again. Until then, there is always hope.
I noticed a feeling in me starting at the end of the summer. I felt a distinct change when school started. I began feeling a little dread. Nothing like last year, but its there. Then last weekend, Labor Day weekend, I decided that the little boys needed big boy beds. They had been sleeping in their own beds before Sterling died. After Sterling's death they refused to sleep in their beds anymore. I couldn't handle them being in a different room from me either so I let them sleep with me, I was barely sleeping anyway. But now they are older, both in school all day and just physically getting bigger. So we went to Target to shop for new bedding and then to the furniture store for new beds.
I noticed that I was very short with everyone all weekend. I had that fight or flight feeling in my chest. As I began taking pictures of the old beds and then taking them down and putting up the new beds it hit me. Their beds had remained unchanged since that last night we all slept in our own beds, the last night Sterling slept in our home. I was changing the bedroom all three little boys shared. As soon as I acknowledged my feelings the flood of tears came. And then peace.
The boys were excited to sleep in their beds. They fell asleep within minutes. I was left in the silence of the room to talk to my sweet Sterling. His crib is still up. The boys don't want it taken down, I don't either. Its crazy. I know. But we have put away many of Sterling's things. We have even begun changing and redecorating our home. But his crib? No one in our home is ready to take it down. Once we take that down there will be nothing of his left up in our home.
His pictures will always be everywhere in our home. But all his clothing, his strollers, his high chair, his bottles....they have all been safely packed away. With each item we pack away we realize that the item is special to us, but it is not Sterling. Sterling is here in our home because he is here in our hearts, forever. He lives on in each one of us.
When the boys have a project about themselves I have to talk them out of filling their poster boards with pictures of Sterling. When they see a giraffe or a butterfly, they immediately say "Hi Sterling!! Love you Bubba!" When Silas picked out bedding with an Africa scene because of the giraffe. All of these things remind me that Sterling is still very much alive in each one of us.
So as we get closer to Fall. Closer to the day that would've been Sterling's third birthday. I can sit quietly, pumpkin spiced latte in hand, and feel my baby all around me. I will never stop missing him. I will never stop wondering who he would be today. But I know he never left me. And I live each day with hope that one day the veil will drop and I will see my baby again. Until then, there is always hope.
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
"Me too"
Today while getting the boys ready for school I noticed something shiny in my 9 year old's ear. He has Autism and he needs constant supervision. A quick look in his ear and I see a bead. So I decide to take him to immediate care figuring we will be done in an hour and off to school he will go. Oh, to be so lucky.
They got us in quickly. They got the bead out quickly. As they get it he says "there's another one in there. Its green." The doctor looks in and sure enough, there is another one!! And its deep. He is fighting us now. We try for a few hours, with breaks in between so he could calm down. It was ugly. He punched me. I struggled to help hold him down. And they couldn't get it out. So they sent us to the emergency room.
This is the same emergency room where Sterling was taken on December 1, 2011. Its big though. So at first we were put were non-emergency patients are. No where near that room. But they couldn't get it either. And so they send us back to the more serious area. And my body knew. I could feel it. I just knew I was near that room where Sterling's heart started after 45 minutes of working on him. I began to cry. Not hard, thankfully. So the staff really had no idea. They thought I was upset about my 9 year old.
As I sat with my son, my mind kept flashing to seeing my baby on that gurney. I kept seeing me rush into the room and beg him to stay. All the sounds, all the smells. I couldn't stop remembering that December day. My soul hurt. I sat with my living son, holding him and trying to keep him calm. While my heart kept racing and my body shivered remembering my angel son. A rough day.
At the end of our time in the emergency room we were told he needed to be seen by ENT. They were not going to be able to get the bead out without sedation. Its deep in his ear. There is a lot of blood. There may even be hearing loss. We won't know for certain until after surgery and healing and testing.
But I decided that I was going to take away the power of that hospital emergency room. I decided it wasn't going to have any more power over me. Sterling isn't in that room anymore. The worst thing that could happen already did. So as we were leaving I went to that room. I stood at the doorway. I stared until it didn't take my breath away anymore. Then I quietly walked out of the hospital with my son. Got in my car. And sobbed. And he began tearing up as well. And I told him. I told him I was sad because that is where Sterling was. That is where Sterling died. I told him I was crying because I just miss him so much. And my Autistic 9 year old, who some "experts" say isn't capable of grieving. Well, tears in his eyes he whispered "yes me too."
We then went home. Ate some food. And I worked out hard with my trainer and then in Zumba class. I still have no idea where the energy came from. But this Momma is beat and ready to get some rest now.
They got us in quickly. They got the bead out quickly. As they get it he says "there's another one in there. Its green." The doctor looks in and sure enough, there is another one!! And its deep. He is fighting us now. We try for a few hours, with breaks in between so he could calm down. It was ugly. He punched me. I struggled to help hold him down. And they couldn't get it out. So they sent us to the emergency room.
This is the same emergency room where Sterling was taken on December 1, 2011. Its big though. So at first we were put were non-emergency patients are. No where near that room. But they couldn't get it either. And so they send us back to the more serious area. And my body knew. I could feel it. I just knew I was near that room where Sterling's heart started after 45 minutes of working on him. I began to cry. Not hard, thankfully. So the staff really had no idea. They thought I was upset about my 9 year old.
As I sat with my son, my mind kept flashing to seeing my baby on that gurney. I kept seeing me rush into the room and beg him to stay. All the sounds, all the smells. I couldn't stop remembering that December day. My soul hurt. I sat with my living son, holding him and trying to keep him calm. While my heart kept racing and my body shivered remembering my angel son. A rough day.
At the end of our time in the emergency room we were told he needed to be seen by ENT. They were not going to be able to get the bead out without sedation. Its deep in his ear. There is a lot of blood. There may even be hearing loss. We won't know for certain until after surgery and healing and testing.
But I decided that I was going to take away the power of that hospital emergency room. I decided it wasn't going to have any more power over me. Sterling isn't in that room anymore. The worst thing that could happen already did. So as we were leaving I went to that room. I stood at the doorway. I stared until it didn't take my breath away anymore. Then I quietly walked out of the hospital with my son. Got in my car. And sobbed. And he began tearing up as well. And I told him. I told him I was sad because that is where Sterling was. That is where Sterling died. I told him I was crying because I just miss him so much. And my Autistic 9 year old, who some "experts" say isn't capable of grieving. Well, tears in his eyes he whispered "yes me too."
We then went home. Ate some food. And I worked out hard with my trainer and then in Zumba class. I still have no idea where the energy came from. But this Momma is beat and ready to get some rest now.
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Little Pieces Of You.....
I haven't blogged in a while. Life has been busy. Tried to get in all the last minute fun with the boys before school started. Then it was getting ready for school. And then school started. I've decided to make some changes in my work as well that will leave my days more open and free for my boys. I was scared to make such a change in my life. But yet I just felt it was time.
One of the many gifts Sterling has given me is the knowledge that life is fragile and life is short. I never look back and regret any of the time I spent being Sterling's mom. His life was a gift and I knew it from the moment he was placed in my arms. I cherished my time with him and I look at his smile in his pictures and I know he lived a rich, full life.
I was in such shock for so many months following his death that, although I was physically with my boys, my mind was often not. I would say even today I tend to not always be fully present with my boys. I was looking at Sterling's picture albums one day when I realized how little his bubbas were in all the pictures. I looked up and saw four little boys who aren't so little anymore. I panicked a little. I don't want them to grow up without me being present in their lives.
I feel like I have spent the last twenty months and twenty days consumed with Sterling. First in the hospital with him trying to will him to be healed. Then the months I spent begging God to give him back. Then more time trying to find a new normal. Now I just look at my boys and think that maybe I missed something? What if I did? I mean my youngest before Sterling, he was just three when Sterling died. He is now five and in all day kindergarten! He no longer needs me like he used to. And I am sad.
All of my boys have grown and changed so much. And I was in a fog for most of it. I don't want to be anymore. I know grief can be a beast. I know I will never stop missing my sweet boy. I will never stop wishing his death was just a dream. I will always long for Sterling. But I can see little pieces of him in each of his bubbas.
I can see him in their smiles, in the love in their eyes when we talk about Sterling. I see him in their awe at new life adventures. I see him in them when they love on a friend's baby with that look of longing and love. I hear him in their laughter. I feel him in their tears. Sterling is forever a part of each one of us. And each one of us will carry him with us each day. Through us he will live on. Through us new friends will fall in love with his broad smile and giant, love filled brown eyes.
And I may not be able to parent Sterling the way I had envisioned when I held him in my arms. But each moment I have parenting and enjoying his bubbas is like I am having that moment with him as well. And I just don't want to not be there for those moments. I need to be there for those moments. For myself. For the bubbas. And for Sterling.
Sterling's 3rd birthday is coming up. I have a small project I am working on with the hospital where he was born and where he died. I can't wait to write that post and share that experience with everyone. Sterling will hopefully touch the hearts of all the parents of the little ones born on his birthday this year.
One of the many gifts Sterling has given me is the knowledge that life is fragile and life is short. I never look back and regret any of the time I spent being Sterling's mom. His life was a gift and I knew it from the moment he was placed in my arms. I cherished my time with him and I look at his smile in his pictures and I know he lived a rich, full life.
I was in such shock for so many months following his death that, although I was physically with my boys, my mind was often not. I would say even today I tend to not always be fully present with my boys. I was looking at Sterling's picture albums one day when I realized how little his bubbas were in all the pictures. I looked up and saw four little boys who aren't so little anymore. I panicked a little. I don't want them to grow up without me being present in their lives.
I feel like I have spent the last twenty months and twenty days consumed with Sterling. First in the hospital with him trying to will him to be healed. Then the months I spent begging God to give him back. Then more time trying to find a new normal. Now I just look at my boys and think that maybe I missed something? What if I did? I mean my youngest before Sterling, he was just three when Sterling died. He is now five and in all day kindergarten! He no longer needs me like he used to. And I am sad.
All of my boys have grown and changed so much. And I was in a fog for most of it. I don't want to be anymore. I know grief can be a beast. I know I will never stop missing my sweet boy. I will never stop wishing his death was just a dream. I will always long for Sterling. But I can see little pieces of him in each of his bubbas.
I can see him in their smiles, in the love in their eyes when we talk about Sterling. I see him in their awe at new life adventures. I see him in them when they love on a friend's baby with that look of longing and love. I hear him in their laughter. I feel him in their tears. Sterling is forever a part of each one of us. And each one of us will carry him with us each day. Through us he will live on. Through us new friends will fall in love with his broad smile and giant, love filled brown eyes.
And I may not be able to parent Sterling the way I had envisioned when I held him in my arms. But each moment I have parenting and enjoying his bubbas is like I am having that moment with him as well. And I just don't want to not be there for those moments. I need to be there for those moments. For myself. For the bubbas. And for Sterling.
Sterling's 3rd birthday is coming up. I have a small project I am working on with the hospital where he was born and where he died. I can't wait to write that post and share that experience with everyone. Sterling will hopefully touch the hearts of all the parents of the little ones born on his birthday this year.
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
All over the place....
We are in the last four weeks of our summer break. I did not make my fitness goals. Partly because of my ankle injury and the depression that followed that. I am still trying to pull myself out of that. I never stopped working out though. I never stopped taking my boys to do things they love doing in the summer. But by this time I just feel so drained.
In fact as I was driving to boot camp this morning Matthew West's song Save A Place for Me came on the radio and I began crying. Hard. As I pulled up to the park my friend came up to my car and I was still trying to stop crying. She asked me what is wrong and I just miss him so much.
I have met many people since Sterling died. Other grieving parents. Some who told me from day one that I will never be happy again. I will never be ok again. They told me my life is over now. I still have the bubbas to raise and love and I knew I couldn't live like that. I wouldn't live like that. But that doesn't mean I don't miss my baby. I MISS him every single day. I think of him every single day. But I feel him all around me. I know he has never left me. I know I will see him again. But I miss him here the way his bubbas are. And sometimes the tears just come. And that's ok.
I did do boot camp. And I bet no one there even realized I was having a bad morning. I am not sure that is a good thing. I'm not sure its a bad thing either. I have no idea how to feel when so many people think I am so strong and have it so together. Inside I still feel a mess. A beautiful, grieving mess. I am still trying to figure out where I belong.
I am still trying to figure out what I should be doing with my life. How I can honor my son's short life. How I can raise his bubbas to be kind, loving, compassionate young men. I still feel so confused and such a mess so often. I don't feel like I belong in this world. Yet I value life so much more now. I just wish I could go to a beach somewhere and relax and meditate.
In fact as I was driving to boot camp this morning Matthew West's song Save A Place for Me came on the radio and I began crying. Hard. As I pulled up to the park my friend came up to my car and I was still trying to stop crying. She asked me what is wrong and I just miss him so much.
I have met many people since Sterling died. Other grieving parents. Some who told me from day one that I will never be happy again. I will never be ok again. They told me my life is over now. I still have the bubbas to raise and love and I knew I couldn't live like that. I wouldn't live like that. But that doesn't mean I don't miss my baby. I MISS him every single day. I think of him every single day. But I feel him all around me. I know he has never left me. I know I will see him again. But I miss him here the way his bubbas are. And sometimes the tears just come. And that's ok.
I did do boot camp. And I bet no one there even realized I was having a bad morning. I am not sure that is a good thing. I'm not sure its a bad thing either. I have no idea how to feel when so many people think I am so strong and have it so together. Inside I still feel a mess. A beautiful, grieving mess. I am still trying to figure out where I belong.
I am still trying to figure out what I should be doing with my life. How I can honor my son's short life. How I can raise his bubbas to be kind, loving, compassionate young men. I still feel so confused and such a mess so often. I don't feel like I belong in this world. Yet I value life so much more now. I just wish I could go to a beach somewhere and relax and meditate.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
Overheard
We had a nice holiday weekend with friends and me just enjoying the bubbas. We met some new people and inevitably the comment is made about how "full" my hands must be with 4 kids. If that is all that is said I usually respond with "wouldn't have it any other way" and go about my day. But when I am sitting with people they ask questions and dig a little deeper and I can't not include Sterling (or my oldest daughter) when responding. Which brings us to his death.
I will always tell people about CHD's because I want people to know that it could happen to anyone. I see their looks of "not me" and their nodding at me out of pity. If I talk to a person a lot about Sterling I will always ask if they want to see him. I so love showing off his giant, love filled brown eyes and his contagious smile. Most people see him and then something changes as they see that Sterling looked perfect, healthy even. They begin to kind of see that yes, it could happen to them.
I was not prepared for what I heard someone say though. She said she just couldn't look at his picture because he's dead now. Why would she want to "look at a dead kid's picture?" That stung. She is not a friend. I will probably never see her again. And I am sure it is hard for those around me to look at Sterling's beautiful face knowing he is no longer in his body.
But if it hurts you or is hard for you to look at Sterling's beautiful pictures and videos, what do you think I live with every single day?? I knew and loved him as only a mother could. From the depths of my very being. I woke up each day to his big brown eyes and his smile. I loved taking care of him and watching him grow. I loved every moment I had with him. As did his Grammy and his sissy and his bubbas. Sterling was (and forever will be) a much loved and adored baby boy. His absence has left a hole in each one of us.
Part of our healing is sharing him with others. We are so proud of him. We love him. He will continue to teach us things we never dreamed we would know. He will continue to bring out the best in us. We share him with all of you from a place of love. We only ask that you be compassionate in return. No matter how hard it is for any one of you to see him and know you will never get to meet him in the traditional way, always think of us, his family. We love him and knew him and miss him more than words will ever capture.
Our hearts have been shattered and we wake up each day and live. Bravely we share our story with you. We share to help other families and we share because in doing so, we heal our hearts. Always think of the grieving and be mindful of what you say to us or about us when you think we don't hear you. For our hearts are already broken and our soul so tender.
I will always tell people about CHD's because I want people to know that it could happen to anyone. I see their looks of "not me" and their nodding at me out of pity. If I talk to a person a lot about Sterling I will always ask if they want to see him. I so love showing off his giant, love filled brown eyes and his contagious smile. Most people see him and then something changes as they see that Sterling looked perfect, healthy even. They begin to kind of see that yes, it could happen to them.
I was not prepared for what I heard someone say though. She said she just couldn't look at his picture because he's dead now. Why would she want to "look at a dead kid's picture?" That stung. She is not a friend. I will probably never see her again. And I am sure it is hard for those around me to look at Sterling's beautiful face knowing he is no longer in his body.
But if it hurts you or is hard for you to look at Sterling's beautiful pictures and videos, what do you think I live with every single day?? I knew and loved him as only a mother could. From the depths of my very being. I woke up each day to his big brown eyes and his smile. I loved taking care of him and watching him grow. I loved every moment I had with him. As did his Grammy and his sissy and his bubbas. Sterling was (and forever will be) a much loved and adored baby boy. His absence has left a hole in each one of us.
Part of our healing is sharing him with others. We are so proud of him. We love him. He will continue to teach us things we never dreamed we would know. He will continue to bring out the best in us. We share him with all of you from a place of love. We only ask that you be compassionate in return. No matter how hard it is for any one of you to see him and know you will never get to meet him in the traditional way, always think of us, his family. We love him and knew him and miss him more than words will ever capture.
Our hearts have been shattered and we wake up each day and live. Bravely we share our story with you. We share to help other families and we share because in doing so, we heal our hearts. Always think of the grieving and be mindful of what you say to us or about us when you think we don't hear you. For our hearts are already broken and our soul so tender.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Am I going to hell because I seek out meaning in the butterfly?
I love the idea of religion. I really do. I believe in God, although I have so many questions. I love my friends who have such a blind faith and don't question anything the Bible tells them. I wish I could be more like that. I used to be more like that. But as I have mentioned before, once I held my son's lifeless body in my arms with tears streaming down my face and prayers being said over and over again. Once I heard those prayers were not answered. Once my heart shattered into a million pieces. That is when I started questioning.
My questions come from my pain and my anger. I am hurt that my son was not allowed to stay with us. I am angry that I will not get to see him grow up. I hate that my other children have to suffer this pain of losing their beloved baby brother. On top of all of that Sterling was 13 months 2 weeks and 6 days old when he died. I did everything for him. Everything. So my questioning began with where exactly is my little boy? Who is taking care of him? Is he feeling any of this pain like we are? Maybe you think its childish, but those questions consumed me in the beginning.
As the initial shock and numbness began wearing off my questioning changed. I wanted to know if God was such a loving God, how could he allow this pain? And unless you are a Mom (or Dad) who has held her child's lifeless body, I am sorry but your answers are worthless to me. When you say "I can't even imagine your pain" you really have no idea. Its something I have tried and tried to express and yet I just can't. The closest I can say is that physically I felt like someone took a jagged knife and literally gutted me. I physically and emotionally have felt pain so severe my whole body shook for weeks. WEEKS. And still to this day when I am talking about his death I will get cold and begin shaking again. I can feel myself physically start to go into the fetal position at times.
So forgive me if I question God. I am sure He understands my pain. I am sure if he is the loving parent that I believe he is, He will forgive me for looking for signs and for seeking meaning in life the way I do now. He will surely allow me to see that butterfly as a sign from Sterling. Or that bird that just sits and stares into our eyes now. Or that scent of Sterling that rests so gently on my chest late at night when the house is sleeping. I am sure God allows these things for me because without them I am sure I would not be here right now. Without these signs I am sure Sterling's Bubbas would not be smiling as much.
I respect other people's religious beliefs. I would never try to make you believe what I do. I am sure those who tell me not to seek out a relationship with Sterling today only mean well. But I need to feel my son. I have questions for God. For those who just don't get it, I honestly hope you never do. For if you understand, then you have lived when your child has died. And this pain, this agony I deal with everyday...I wish it on no one.
One last little note: I wake up each day choosing HOPE. In that hope is a BELIEF that love is eternal. That I will see my sweet Sterling again. That, although God is allowing this unimaginable pain for my family and I, we still praise him. We still believe in Him even when it seems we don't because of our questions. To quote Tom Zuba "the death of a loved one cracks us open, its supposed to."
My questions come from my pain and my anger. I am hurt that my son was not allowed to stay with us. I am angry that I will not get to see him grow up. I hate that my other children have to suffer this pain of losing their beloved baby brother. On top of all of that Sterling was 13 months 2 weeks and 6 days old when he died. I did everything for him. Everything. So my questioning began with where exactly is my little boy? Who is taking care of him? Is he feeling any of this pain like we are? Maybe you think its childish, but those questions consumed me in the beginning.
As the initial shock and numbness began wearing off my questioning changed. I wanted to know if God was such a loving God, how could he allow this pain? And unless you are a Mom (or Dad) who has held her child's lifeless body, I am sorry but your answers are worthless to me. When you say "I can't even imagine your pain" you really have no idea. Its something I have tried and tried to express and yet I just can't. The closest I can say is that physically I felt like someone took a jagged knife and literally gutted me. I physically and emotionally have felt pain so severe my whole body shook for weeks. WEEKS. And still to this day when I am talking about his death I will get cold and begin shaking again. I can feel myself physically start to go into the fetal position at times.
So forgive me if I question God. I am sure He understands my pain. I am sure if he is the loving parent that I believe he is, He will forgive me for looking for signs and for seeking meaning in life the way I do now. He will surely allow me to see that butterfly as a sign from Sterling. Or that bird that just sits and stares into our eyes now. Or that scent of Sterling that rests so gently on my chest late at night when the house is sleeping. I am sure God allows these things for me because without them I am sure I would not be here right now. Without these signs I am sure Sterling's Bubbas would not be smiling as much.
I respect other people's religious beliefs. I would never try to make you believe what I do. I am sure those who tell me not to seek out a relationship with Sterling today only mean well. But I need to feel my son. I have questions for God. For those who just don't get it, I honestly hope you never do. For if you understand, then you have lived when your child has died. And this pain, this agony I deal with everyday...I wish it on no one.
One last little note: I wake up each day choosing HOPE. In that hope is a BELIEF that love is eternal. That I will see my sweet Sterling again. That, although God is allowing this unimaginable pain for my family and I, we still praise him. We still believe in Him even when it seems we don't because of our questions. To quote Tom Zuba "the death of a loved one cracks us open, its supposed to."
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Hitting a wall here....
I hurt my ankle last week while working out at a boot camp in the park. It has forced me to slow down and accept help again. Both of these things are what I had to do when Sterling died. Only at that time I was in such excruciating pain that I just went through the motions.
This time, while in some pain, the pain of my ankle is no where comparable to the pain I felt with Sterling. In fact most things that are painful really don't slow me down the way they used to. But when its your ankle and that is what you need to walk....well I was forced to slow down a bit. Which forced me to again deal with some grief.
I was told early on by a professional that because I still have 4 small children to care for my grieving will be done in shifts. I will grieve then have to care for kids and then come back to the grief again. This will prolong the process but its necessary. I have worked hard these last 18 months to make time for my grief. I know if I don't it will hit me when I least expect it, usually when we are out and around a lot of people.
My exercise has been a great release of built up grief. For me that is a mix of anger, sadness and guilt. So exercising releases that and allows me to still feel the sadness without so much of the anger. Its been a wonderful thing for me. Until I hurt my ankle. I am not able to push my physical body to the level I was before. Which is not really getting the anger out.
I have been miserable. I have had to find other ways of releasing it. For me that just isn't as good. Today it just all slammed into me. Once again I feel trapped and helpless. The same feelings I felt from the first moment I picked Sterling's lifeless body up and laid him down to do CPR. The same feelings I felt in the PICU and for weeks after. I hate it. And for those who just don't understand it they think I am being "whiny" or just need to get over it.
My working out has given me back some control. Not being able to work out is making me feel like I have lost that yet again. I know I will heal. I know I can start again. I know. I know. I know. But in the meantime I am sitting with these feelings and I hate every single second of it. I wonder if I will ever learn to let go of things and just be? Obviously its a lesson I need to learn....
This time, while in some pain, the pain of my ankle is no where comparable to the pain I felt with Sterling. In fact most things that are painful really don't slow me down the way they used to. But when its your ankle and that is what you need to walk....well I was forced to slow down a bit. Which forced me to again deal with some grief.
I was told early on by a professional that because I still have 4 small children to care for my grieving will be done in shifts. I will grieve then have to care for kids and then come back to the grief again. This will prolong the process but its necessary. I have worked hard these last 18 months to make time for my grief. I know if I don't it will hit me when I least expect it, usually when we are out and around a lot of people.
My exercise has been a great release of built up grief. For me that is a mix of anger, sadness and guilt. So exercising releases that and allows me to still feel the sadness without so much of the anger. Its been a wonderful thing for me. Until I hurt my ankle. I am not able to push my physical body to the level I was before. Which is not really getting the anger out.
I have been miserable. I have had to find other ways of releasing it. For me that just isn't as good. Today it just all slammed into me. Once again I feel trapped and helpless. The same feelings I felt from the first moment I picked Sterling's lifeless body up and laid him down to do CPR. The same feelings I felt in the PICU and for weeks after. I hate it. And for those who just don't understand it they think I am being "whiny" or just need to get over it.
My working out has given me back some control. Not being able to work out is making me feel like I have lost that yet again. I know I will heal. I know I can start again. I know. I know. I know. But in the meantime I am sitting with these feelings and I hate every single second of it. I wonder if I will ever learn to let go of things and just be? Obviously its a lesson I need to learn....
Friday, June 14, 2013
The boys and I had a wonderful summer day. Part lazy and part fun. A perfect summer mix. A few years ago I would have fallen fast asleep by now. No worries. Just a lovely end to a lovely day. Tonight I am exhausted and yet I sit awake thinking about things I wish I didn't know.
Tonight driving home my daughter asks me how something can be here one moment and gone the next. She wants to know how in just an instant someone can be gone forever from this world. I tell her I struggle with those questions everyday.
She and I can still so vividly see Sterling the night before. He was playing and smiling and waved bye bye to his sister as she left. In an instant he was gone. She and I both struggle with that. In an instant everything can change so drastically. How do we live each day fully knowing in an instant it can be over?
Tonight driving home my daughter asks me how something can be here one moment and gone the next. She wants to know how in just an instant someone can be gone forever from this world. I tell her I struggle with those questions everyday.
She and I can still so vividly see Sterling the night before. He was playing and smiling and waved bye bye to his sister as she left. In an instant he was gone. She and I both struggle with that. In an instant everything can change so drastically. How do we live each day fully knowing in an instant it can be over?
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
One day I hope others understand this.....
There are little gifts in grief. I always see them as Sterling's everlasting love. One of the big ones is that I have some small glimpses of myself through his eyes. In my son's eyes I was superwoman. I was the funniest, smartest, greatest, bestest Mommy ever. Through his eyes I can see that I deserve to be loved. Period.
This has caused some issues with family members who were used to me doing whatever they wanted whenever they wanted it. This "new" woman (and I say that loosely because she was always there waiting to be discovered) doesn't allow others to dictate her life anymore. I still believe in helping others as much as I can but I won't completely ignore my own needs anymore.
I was just told that my working out was not as important as someones job. I was told that I should be able to skip days of working out in order to help this other person out. I was told that her job was more important. I beg to differ.
Yes its true I don't get paid for working out (although that would SO rock!!). I actually PAY someone else for the privilege of using their facility and I also PAY someone to keep me on track.
BUT, and this is a BIG one here! I FEEL so much better working out. Grief takes a huge toll on ones body. I know its been 18 months and some people think I should be back to the old me already. But that old me? She is gone! She died with Sterling. What was left was a body that felt gutted and in physical, excruciating pain. Every. Single. Day. I was weak. I was broken.
What working out has done for me is simple yet complex all at once. It has given me strength. Strength to face my grief. Strength to not only survive again but thrive! I don't feel gutted anymore. When I am having a grief burst I can ride them out because I know it is necessary and I am strong enough. I know I will come out of it stronger.
Working out is an amazing thing for this grieving parent. When I don't do it I feel it everywhere, physically and mentally. My counselors have seen a change in me. My friends have seen a change in me. Its a gift that Sterling has given me. I deserve to be happy again. I will help others out but not the way I used to.
So if you think you are going to come and tell me that I am "addicted" or that my working out is "unhealthy" I ask you to remember back to those days and months before I started working out. I weighed 60 pounds more than I do now. I was tired. Shame on anyone who dares tell another person that something they are doing that not only makes them happy but healthy is wrong.
This has caused some issues with family members who were used to me doing whatever they wanted whenever they wanted it. This "new" woman (and I say that loosely because she was always there waiting to be discovered) doesn't allow others to dictate her life anymore. I still believe in helping others as much as I can but I won't completely ignore my own needs anymore.
I was just told that my working out was not as important as someones job. I was told that I should be able to skip days of working out in order to help this other person out. I was told that her job was more important. I beg to differ.
Yes its true I don't get paid for working out (although that would SO rock!!). I actually PAY someone else for the privilege of using their facility and I also PAY someone to keep me on track.
BUT, and this is a BIG one here! I FEEL so much better working out. Grief takes a huge toll on ones body. I know its been 18 months and some people think I should be back to the old me already. But that old me? She is gone! She died with Sterling. What was left was a body that felt gutted and in physical, excruciating pain. Every. Single. Day. I was weak. I was broken.
What working out has done for me is simple yet complex all at once. It has given me strength. Strength to face my grief. Strength to not only survive again but thrive! I don't feel gutted anymore. When I am having a grief burst I can ride them out because I know it is necessary and I am strong enough. I know I will come out of it stronger.
Working out is an amazing thing for this grieving parent. When I don't do it I feel it everywhere, physically and mentally. My counselors have seen a change in me. My friends have seen a change in me. Its a gift that Sterling has given me. I deserve to be happy again. I will help others out but not the way I used to.
So if you think you are going to come and tell me that I am "addicted" or that my working out is "unhealthy" I ask you to remember back to those days and months before I started working out. I weighed 60 pounds more than I do now. I was tired. Shame on anyone who dares tell another person that something they are doing that not only makes them happy but healthy is wrong.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
A dream? Or a visit from my sweet boy?
Yesterday as I was shopping alone looking for an outfit for a ladies night out I began feeling this sadness. I was in the van alone and as you may know I use that time to talk out loud to Sterling. I told him that I just wish I was staying home with five boys. I want that more than anything. I told him I was scared that he was forgetting me. I asked him if that was even possible.
I came home got ready and went out for a ladies night. I had fun. I was glad I went. Sometime in the morning after I had woken up and went back to sleep I had a dream. It was so vivid. So real.
In this dream I was driving and saw Sterling in someone else's car. I followed them to their house. They took Sterling, who was sleeping, into their house. I asked them if that was him. They got upset and wouldn't let me near him. So I told the boys to make a diversion and I broke into their house and found him in a crib sitting up. He was still the one year old I knew and loved. When he saw me his face lit up! He squealed and smiled and I immediately picked him up and told him how much I missed him.
In the dream I knew he should be two and a half now. I even commented on it. I questioned if this baby was indeed Sterling. But he hugged me and patted my back just like he used to. He clung to my shirt and wouldn't let me go. He smelled like my baby. So I took him. I put him in the van with his bubbas and we ran.
When I woke up I was so happy. I almost wonder if Sterling was answering me via this dream. Was he telling me that for him no time has passed? That for him when I see him again he will only feel like he was separated for the time of a nap? Was he telling me he will never forget me just as I will never forget him?
Its been 18 months since he left his body. 18 months since I held and snuggled him. Yet I can still remember how his chubby thighs feel. How his hugs felt. How he smelled. I will never forget Sterling just as I believe he told me he will never forget me.
Loving and missing you sweet boy....Always and forever.....
I came home got ready and went out for a ladies night. I had fun. I was glad I went. Sometime in the morning after I had woken up and went back to sleep I had a dream. It was so vivid. So real.
In this dream I was driving and saw Sterling in someone else's car. I followed them to their house. They took Sterling, who was sleeping, into their house. I asked them if that was him. They got upset and wouldn't let me near him. So I told the boys to make a diversion and I broke into their house and found him in a crib sitting up. He was still the one year old I knew and loved. When he saw me his face lit up! He squealed and smiled and I immediately picked him up and told him how much I missed him.
In the dream I knew he should be two and a half now. I even commented on it. I questioned if this baby was indeed Sterling. But he hugged me and patted my back just like he used to. He clung to my shirt and wouldn't let me go. He smelled like my baby. So I took him. I put him in the van with his bubbas and we ran.
When I woke up I was so happy. I almost wonder if Sterling was answering me via this dream. Was he telling me that for him no time has passed? That for him when I see him again he will only feel like he was separated for the time of a nap? Was he telling me he will never forget me just as I will never forget him?
Its been 18 months since he left his body. 18 months since I held and snuggled him. Yet I can still remember how his chubby thighs feel. How his hugs felt. How he smelled. I will never forget Sterling just as I believe he told me he will never forget me.
Loving and missing you sweet boy....Always and forever.....
Friday, May 31, 2013
Summer Dreams......
The year Sterling was born I hired a landscaper. I wanted our backyard to be something the boys and I could enjoy all summer. I had it sodded. A new swing set was put up. I have allergies so I decided it was worth the money to have them mow and do the clean ups. I was so looking forward to the following summer (last summer 2012) of watching my five boys run and play in our yard.
Last summer was hot and dry and the sod needed more tending then I could manage. Just going out in my backyard was a reminder of what I had dreamed of never becoming a reality. The landscapers would come and want to talk to me about what we could do to save the grass but I could barely listen. Our yard paid the price.
In the spring and summer and fall of 2011 they would come and Sterling would always be on my hip. Always. Seeing them now would make me think of him in my arms and how he wasn't anymore. Some days the guys would knock on my door to ask me a question and I wouldn't even be able to open the door to them. Too painful.
Today I called them. I spoke with them. They are at my house doing a Spring cleanup and I actually spoke with them. Today I am excited about what my yard and home can look like again. I am hopeful for many summer days spent grilling and playing with my boys. It still stings to know that Sterling isn't here to run and play and enjoy it with us physically. But I know as long as his bubbas and I are breathing Sterling is here.
Always and forever.......
Last summer was hot and dry and the sod needed more tending then I could manage. Just going out in my backyard was a reminder of what I had dreamed of never becoming a reality. The landscapers would come and want to talk to me about what we could do to save the grass but I could barely listen. Our yard paid the price.
In the spring and summer and fall of 2011 they would come and Sterling would always be on my hip. Always. Seeing them now would make me think of him in my arms and how he wasn't anymore. Some days the guys would knock on my door to ask me a question and I wouldn't even be able to open the door to them. Too painful.
Today I called them. I spoke with them. They are at my house doing a Spring cleanup and I actually spoke with them. Today I am excited about what my yard and home can look like again. I am hopeful for many summer days spent grilling and playing with my boys. It still stings to know that Sterling isn't here to run and play and enjoy it with us physically. But I know as long as his bubbas and I are breathing Sterling is here.
Always and forever.......
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
"And a thousand other little things I miss with him gone..."
There are days when the pain of losing Sterling is so strong that it takes all I have to simply get out of my bed in the morning. Today was one of those days. I miss my baby. I miss him so much I think I will make a list tonight.
1. I miss looking into his giant, love filled brown eyes every day.
2. I miss kissing his chubby cheeks.
3. Who am I kidding? I miss kissing his chubby hands, his chubby feet, his chubby neck and budha belly. I miss kissing and snuggling Sterling every day.
4. I miss hearing him laugh.
5. I miss seeing his big smile.
6. I miss watching him learn new things.
7. I miss his personality (he was a lovable little stinker who loved to tease and was a big Momma's boy).
8. I miss watching his big bubbas love on him and he on them.
9. I miss hearing him trying to talk and learning new words.
10. I miss playing with his hair while he slept in my arms.
11. I miss feeling the weight of him sleeping on my chest.
12. I miss listening to the cadence of his sleeping breath.
13. I miss his hugs. He would pat me on the back and squeeze me right before he would grab my cheeks and give me a big, slobbery kiss.
14. I miss family pictures with five boys.
15. I miss family outings with five boys.
16. I miss leaving the room only to hear him crawling as fast as possible behind me saying "Mom!"
17. I miss his excited face when I came back in the room as he held his hands in the air and said "up"
18. I miss his smell. His sweet, sweet smell of fruit bites and formula and baby sweat and drool.
19. I miss worrying if I was enough for him.
20. I miss our snuggle time at night as I would sing him to sleep.
21. I miss that if I didn't sing him to sleep he would hum himself to sleep.
22. I miss how friendly he was, just as long as he was safe in my arms.
My list could go on and on and on....I haven't even gotten to the things I miss that he had yet to do. I miss my little guy so much that I feel like I could explode. Today I felt like the water was beginning to rise on me. I felt like I was struggling to keep my nose out of the water and just breath. I think I did ok. I took care of the little people in my life. We played. We laughed. We enjoyed life. Thank God for them.
And just as we went outside into the sunshine a beautiful white butterfly flew right in our path. He fluttered around and my boys yelled "Sterling!! We love you too Bubba!" I couldn't help but smile. What I would give to see a 2 1/2 year old Sterling running around with his bubbas....
1. I miss looking into his giant, love filled brown eyes every day.
2. I miss kissing his chubby cheeks.
3. Who am I kidding? I miss kissing his chubby hands, his chubby feet, his chubby neck and budha belly. I miss kissing and snuggling Sterling every day.
4. I miss hearing him laugh.
5. I miss seeing his big smile.
6. I miss watching him learn new things.
7. I miss his personality (he was a lovable little stinker who loved to tease and was a big Momma's boy).
8. I miss watching his big bubbas love on him and he on them.
9. I miss hearing him trying to talk and learning new words.
10. I miss playing with his hair while he slept in my arms.
11. I miss feeling the weight of him sleeping on my chest.
12. I miss listening to the cadence of his sleeping breath.
13. I miss his hugs. He would pat me on the back and squeeze me right before he would grab my cheeks and give me a big, slobbery kiss.
14. I miss family pictures with five boys.
15. I miss family outings with five boys.
16. I miss leaving the room only to hear him crawling as fast as possible behind me saying "Mom!"
17. I miss his excited face when I came back in the room as he held his hands in the air and said "up"
18. I miss his smell. His sweet, sweet smell of fruit bites and formula and baby sweat and drool.
19. I miss worrying if I was enough for him.
20. I miss our snuggle time at night as I would sing him to sleep.
21. I miss that if I didn't sing him to sleep he would hum himself to sleep.
22. I miss how friendly he was, just as long as he was safe in my arms.
My list could go on and on and on....I haven't even gotten to the things I miss that he had yet to do. I miss my little guy so much that I feel like I could explode. Today I felt like the water was beginning to rise on me. I felt like I was struggling to keep my nose out of the water and just breath. I think I did ok. I took care of the little people in my life. We played. We laughed. We enjoyed life. Thank God for them.
And just as we went outside into the sunshine a beautiful white butterfly flew right in our path. He fluttered around and my boys yelled "Sterling!! We love you too Bubba!" I couldn't help but smile. What I would give to see a 2 1/2 year old Sterling running around with his bubbas....
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Soul Connections
Trying to put into words what I witnessed today. Its hard. Its painful. I just want to cry. I want to scream and shout "WHY OUR FAMILY?! WHY MY BOYS?! Why do we have to live with the pain of living with the death of our beloved Sterling??" Yet my mind goes to the wonderful connection my now 5 year old had and continues to have with Sterling. A connection that left me and continues to leave me in awe.
Sterling and Silas had a connection that the other brothers at times were jealous of. Silas could make Sterling belly laugh by just looking at him and smiling. One of my most favorite memories was just a few weeks before Sterling died. We were driving into Chicago to see Mickey and Minnie Mouse turn on the lights on Michigan Ave. In the backseat as I was driving Silas would just look at Sterling and say "Hey!" and Sterling would laugh so deep. It was that from the tips of his toes all the way up to the top of his head laugh. Then they both just would sit and stare into each others eyes, speaking volumes without saying a word, even holding hands as Sterling fell asleep.
I always called the two of them my 2 1/2 year apart twins. It was like they were two halves to the same soul. Their connection left me in awe. And when Sterling died and Silas tried waking him up at the visitation....... when he realized he couldn't.......when I had to explain again to my then 3 1/2 year old that his baby brother didn't have any breath, that was the night Silas became very ill. His little body would alternate between moaning and crying and sleeping. He was held by several people at the memorial. I was terrified that Silas was dying too.
I normally don't post pictures but I have to post this side by side one. Silas with Sterling on one side and today holding our friend's baby. It breaks my heart that my baby has to know this pain. I think at times Silas' grief has been so intense it even scared me.
Yet I am forever grateful for Sterling. Forever grateful that we got to have thirteen months, two weeks and six days with him. Grateful that Silas, and all my children, were able to have a baby brother they absolutely adored. Silas and Sterling have taught me that love is eternal. I truly believe those two souls have known and loved each other for many, many years. I cannot wait until we are all reunited and I might have some answers of why?
But until then I will hold onto the love and the light that was and forever will be Sterling. He is loved and he is missed. Always and forever. And as Silas told us the other night "Sterling lives just beyond those clouds now but he can come see us whenever he wants." Love truly is eternal.
Sterling and Silas had a connection that the other brothers at times were jealous of. Silas could make Sterling belly laugh by just looking at him and smiling. One of my most favorite memories was just a few weeks before Sterling died. We were driving into Chicago to see Mickey and Minnie Mouse turn on the lights on Michigan Ave. In the backseat as I was driving Silas would just look at Sterling and say "Hey!" and Sterling would laugh so deep. It was that from the tips of his toes all the way up to the top of his head laugh. Then they both just would sit and stare into each others eyes, speaking volumes without saying a word, even holding hands as Sterling fell asleep.
I always called the two of them my 2 1/2 year apart twins. It was like they were two halves to the same soul. Their connection left me in awe. And when Sterling died and Silas tried waking him up at the visitation....... when he realized he couldn't.......when I had to explain again to my then 3 1/2 year old that his baby brother didn't have any breath, that was the night Silas became very ill. His little body would alternate between moaning and crying and sleeping. He was held by several people at the memorial. I was terrified that Silas was dying too.
I normally don't post pictures but I have to post this side by side one. Silas with Sterling on one side and today holding our friend's baby. It breaks my heart that my baby has to know this pain. I think at times Silas' grief has been so intense it even scared me.
Yet I am forever grateful for Sterling. Forever grateful that we got to have thirteen months, two weeks and six days with him. Grateful that Silas, and all my children, were able to have a baby brother they absolutely adored. Silas and Sterling have taught me that love is eternal. I truly believe those two souls have known and loved each other for many, many years. I cannot wait until we are all reunited and I might have some answers of why?
But until then I will hold onto the love and the light that was and forever will be Sterling. He is loved and he is missed. Always and forever. And as Silas told us the other night "Sterling lives just beyond those clouds now but he can come see us whenever he wants." Love truly is eternal.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Strength
Last night I was driving to the store alone. I was feeling good. I had worked out in the morning and had just finished another workout that night. I drove into the parking lot and saw that they are getting things ready for flowers and plants. Spring and summer. Out of nowhere came a grief burst. I quickly parked while the tears just kept coming. I heard myself telling Sterling how much I missed him and all the things I think he should be doing right now. I heard myself ask him how much longer we have to be apart. That was when I stopped. I felt a calmness wash over me. A voice in my mind saying "my bubbas need you" and a feeling that all is exactly as it was always meant to be.
Something clicked in my soul. I go back and forth with my faith. I wish I could be the person who just knows things. The person who just believes. Before I held my beautiful baby's lifeless body in my arms I was that person. I believed all things happened for a reason. I believed in Heaven. I believed in prayer. I believed in miracles. All I had to do was look in the faces of my 6 beautiful children and I just knew without a doubt God existed and He was good.
But to look into the face of my dead child. To cradle his swollen body in my arms for hours after he left it. To know what it feels like to have my hands leave imprints in his head and back. To not want to part with his body but to watch his fingers changing color hurt me so much I had to cover them up. To have to hand my baby, my baby who from 3 days old when he came home from the hospital had never spent a night away from me. I had to hand him over to a stranger. I had to come home without him.
This made me begin to ask who would take a baby from his mother's arms while she prayed that her baby never leave her? Who does this? Who allows this? I hurt so much for so long. A pain unlike anything I have ever felt before. A pain so excruciating that I could not eat for weeks and not even feel it. A pain so severe that I would spend much of my day in the fetal position. A pain that not only hurt my mind and soul but that I physically felt in every inch of my body. I began to question how God could allow this? How? I began to wonder if God hated me. I began to wonder if I was being punished. Its hard to have faith when thinking this way.
All the while I had people telling me how strong I was. All while I felt so weak. While I felt so unloved by God. People thought they were paying me a compliment. I know they meant well. But it felt so wrong to me. Even when working out with my trainer she would tell me how strong I was. It made me angry. I felt so weak. So broken. Not strong at all.
Tonight I told her how I feel about that word. But as the words left my mouth and I listened to what she was telling me about my progress with her I realized its just a word. An accurate word for me. I am strong. I am a survivor. I am choosing to not just survive but to thrive again. A huge part of me died when Sterling did. Yet I am still here living. I am choosing to better myself. I am choosing to find joy again. I am choosing to find hope. I am choosing all of this while my soul is recovering from such an abrupt loss. I am strong! Even when I feel so very weak.
Who knew that working out, pushing my physical body would bring out such thoughts? I am pushing my physical limits in ways I never thought I could. But then again I never thought I could survive without Sterling. I have no idea where any of this is taking me. I am choosing to just enjoy the ride.
Something clicked in my soul. I go back and forth with my faith. I wish I could be the person who just knows things. The person who just believes. Before I held my beautiful baby's lifeless body in my arms I was that person. I believed all things happened for a reason. I believed in Heaven. I believed in prayer. I believed in miracles. All I had to do was look in the faces of my 6 beautiful children and I just knew without a doubt God existed and He was good.
But to look into the face of my dead child. To cradle his swollen body in my arms for hours after he left it. To know what it feels like to have my hands leave imprints in his head and back. To not want to part with his body but to watch his fingers changing color hurt me so much I had to cover them up. To have to hand my baby, my baby who from 3 days old when he came home from the hospital had never spent a night away from me. I had to hand him over to a stranger. I had to come home without him.
This made me begin to ask who would take a baby from his mother's arms while she prayed that her baby never leave her? Who does this? Who allows this? I hurt so much for so long. A pain unlike anything I have ever felt before. A pain so excruciating that I could not eat for weeks and not even feel it. A pain so severe that I would spend much of my day in the fetal position. A pain that not only hurt my mind and soul but that I physically felt in every inch of my body. I began to question how God could allow this? How? I began to wonder if God hated me. I began to wonder if I was being punished. Its hard to have faith when thinking this way.
All the while I had people telling me how strong I was. All while I felt so weak. While I felt so unloved by God. People thought they were paying me a compliment. I know they meant well. But it felt so wrong to me. Even when working out with my trainer she would tell me how strong I was. It made me angry. I felt so weak. So broken. Not strong at all.
Tonight I told her how I feel about that word. But as the words left my mouth and I listened to what she was telling me about my progress with her I realized its just a word. An accurate word for me. I am strong. I am a survivor. I am choosing to not just survive but to thrive again. A huge part of me died when Sterling did. Yet I am still here living. I am choosing to better myself. I am choosing to find joy again. I am choosing to find hope. I am choosing all of this while my soul is recovering from such an abrupt loss. I am strong! Even when I feel so very weak.
Who knew that working out, pushing my physical body would bring out such thoughts? I am pushing my physical limits in ways I never thought I could. But then again I never thought I could survive without Sterling. I have no idea where any of this is taking me. I am choosing to just enjoy the ride.
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
A child's wisdom
Tonight my 6 year old is snuggling our dog. He tells her "one day a long, long time from now you are gonna die. It will be ok. Don't be scared. You will be just fine. We will miss you and be sad you are gone but you will be just fine. You will see Sterling. It will be ok."
I have a wave of emotions that hit me all at once. I am angry. So very angry my 6 year old knows death so intimately. I hate it. When I was 6 death was scary and something that happened to old people, I didn't know death. Yet I also feel a sense of pride. My child is hearing what I am telling him. He is hearing it and he is living it. Death is sad for us left behind, not for the one who dies. And the BIG one? He seems to have intimate knowledge that death separates us only temporarily and it isn't something to be scared of.
My 6 year old is sleeping now on our dog. I am left here to think about our lives now. I get to sit and try to decide if I am going to be sad and angry that Sterling died and the boys and I are left to make sense of it all. Or am I going to look at our lives with Hope again?
I of course am choosing Hope. Always. My boys are dealing with some big stuff. But they are better for it. Life and death go hand in hand. To learn that at a young age and to have a good understanding of it will do them well. That is not to say that the death of a loved one won't hurt them again but they will look at it from a point of knowing that its another part of life.
I have a wave of emotions that hit me all at once. I am angry. So very angry my 6 year old knows death so intimately. I hate it. When I was 6 death was scary and something that happened to old people, I didn't know death. Yet I also feel a sense of pride. My child is hearing what I am telling him. He is hearing it and he is living it. Death is sad for us left behind, not for the one who dies. And the BIG one? He seems to have intimate knowledge that death separates us only temporarily and it isn't something to be scared of.
My 6 year old is sleeping now on our dog. I am left here to think about our lives now. I get to sit and try to decide if I am going to be sad and angry that Sterling died and the boys and I are left to make sense of it all. Or am I going to look at our lives with Hope again?
I of course am choosing Hope. Always. My boys are dealing with some big stuff. But they are better for it. Life and death go hand in hand. To learn that at a young age and to have a good understanding of it will do them well. That is not to say that the death of a loved one won't hurt them again but they will look at it from a point of knowing that its another part of life.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Easter 2013
I finally got to get away to Target alone yesterday morning. I had not bought my boys anything for their Easter baskets. So I finally was able to get away and shop. I knew I wanted to buy the boys swimsuits and beach towels (I am so looking forward to summer this year). I also wanted to grab a little candy for them.
It was while I was in the holiday section that I got this feeling of Sterling. I can't explain it other than to say there are moments when I am somewhere I had been so often with him that I will have a flash of a memory of him and I there. I felt him so strongly in that moment. As I looked up I saw a lone little sippy cup sitting on the shelf. In that instant I knew.
One of the last times I was at Target with Sterling he had seen some holiday sippy cups. He wanted them. So I of course bought some. He didn't like sippy cups though, he would only drink from a bottle. But he liked playing with that special cup. I kept telling him if he would drink from it I would buy more. He would just smile at me and take his bottle. Just writing this memory is making me smile, he was such a cute little stinker. I miss him so very much.
Anyway. I called the PICU and asked if there were any little boys there aged 13 months to two years. There was a little 15 month old boy. So I asked if I could buy him a little Easter basket from Sterling. I could! So I added a little Mickey Mouse lovey (Sterling loved his lovies). And then I found a little giraffe spinning/popping ball toy (Sterling's favorite was his Sophie giraffe). I put it all together and drove over to the hospital and dropped it off.
I never saw the little boy who got Sterling's gifts. I don't need to. I just so miss buying for Sterling. I know this will be something I do from time to time now. I hope the little boy enjoyed the gifts. I know Sterling lead me to do it. It helped make this holiday a little more enjoyable. Thank you sweet boy. Always and forever.
It was while I was in the holiday section that I got this feeling of Sterling. I can't explain it other than to say there are moments when I am somewhere I had been so often with him that I will have a flash of a memory of him and I there. I felt him so strongly in that moment. As I looked up I saw a lone little sippy cup sitting on the shelf. In that instant I knew.
One of the last times I was at Target with Sterling he had seen some holiday sippy cups. He wanted them. So I of course bought some. He didn't like sippy cups though, he would only drink from a bottle. But he liked playing with that special cup. I kept telling him if he would drink from it I would buy more. He would just smile at me and take his bottle. Just writing this memory is making me smile, he was such a cute little stinker. I miss him so very much.
Anyway. I called the PICU and asked if there were any little boys there aged 13 months to two years. There was a little 15 month old boy. So I asked if I could buy him a little Easter basket from Sterling. I could! So I added a little Mickey Mouse lovey (Sterling loved his lovies). And then I found a little giraffe spinning/popping ball toy (Sterling's favorite was his Sophie giraffe). I put it all together and drove over to the hospital and dropped it off.
I never saw the little boy who got Sterling's gifts. I don't need to. I just so miss buying for Sterling. I know this will be something I do from time to time now. I hope the little boy enjoyed the gifts. I know Sterling lead me to do it. It helped make this holiday a little more enjoyable. Thank you sweet boy. Always and forever.
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
My New Life
I have this new life now. I go to the gym everyday. I have a personal trainer. I am working hard at losing weight and more importantly getting in shape. Its become my newest obsession. I feel so good after a workout. I don't need to take anxiety meds. I feel like I can do anything. I forget for a moment that I am not me anymore. I forget until it comes crashing down on me.
I never forget Sterling. He is always on my mind. Always. But life feels good again. Until I am woken up in the morning crying hysterically from dreams of my baby hooked up to life support while I stand helpless to save him. It makes me want to just cocoon, retreat inside my bed, under the covers. It makes me want to just shut out the world.
But I can't do that. I have kids coming that I need to care for, I have Sterling's brothers who need me to get them ready for school. I have a date with the gym. Somehow I manage to pull myself together and do all of it. All the while my heart is broken. My heart is wishing I could just hold Sterling again. Oh to just kiss those chubby cheeks and those full, baby lips again.
And you know what comes floating from the ceiling during class? A little white feather. Just when I think I should give up. Just when I begin to tell myself that none of this matters. A little white feather comes floating down and I see it. I don't care what anyone thinks or where they think it came from. To me it is a sign from my sweet angel. He is wanting me to keep moving forward. Keep pushing.
Then while being pushed by my personal trainer to do things I never thought I could do, it hits me. I never imagined on December 3, 2011 when I handed my baby over to a coroner and went home for the first time in 13 months without him, that I could survive a moment without him. I remember asking how I was going to live without him. I just knew there was no way I could. Slowly I have begun living again. Its not always easy. Its not the life I ever dreamed of but its my life now. The gym, working out, pushing myself. I got this. I can do it. I will do it. After all, the sweetest little angel has my back.
I never forget Sterling. He is always on my mind. Always. But life feels good again. Until I am woken up in the morning crying hysterically from dreams of my baby hooked up to life support while I stand helpless to save him. It makes me want to just cocoon, retreat inside my bed, under the covers. It makes me want to just shut out the world.
But I can't do that. I have kids coming that I need to care for, I have Sterling's brothers who need me to get them ready for school. I have a date with the gym. Somehow I manage to pull myself together and do all of it. All the while my heart is broken. My heart is wishing I could just hold Sterling again. Oh to just kiss those chubby cheeks and those full, baby lips again.
And you know what comes floating from the ceiling during class? A little white feather. Just when I think I should give up. Just when I begin to tell myself that none of this matters. A little white feather comes floating down and I see it. I don't care what anyone thinks or where they think it came from. To me it is a sign from my sweet angel. He is wanting me to keep moving forward. Keep pushing.
Then while being pushed by my personal trainer to do things I never thought I could do, it hits me. I never imagined on December 3, 2011 when I handed my baby over to a coroner and went home for the first time in 13 months without him, that I could survive a moment without him. I remember asking how I was going to live without him. I just knew there was no way I could. Slowly I have begun living again. Its not always easy. Its not the life I ever dreamed of but its my life now. The gym, working out, pushing myself. I got this. I can do it. I will do it. After all, the sweetest little angel has my back.
Sunday, March 10, 2013
The difference of a year......
Everyone keeps posting these "A year ago I never would have imagined my life the way it is today" photos. It got me thinking. A year ago I really and truly wanted to die. I didn't have a plan. I didn't tell anyone (except my counselor) but I truly felt like my life was over. I wasn't eating. Was still not drinking that well. I cried often yet smiled for others. Everything I did hurt. Leaving my house brought anxiety unlike anything I have ever felt before.
Inside I felt dead. Yet I still got up each day. Got my kids ready for school. Worked and loved on other people's kids. At night I would sit in the stillness and just beg and plead for God to let me go home with Sterling now. My kids deserved so much better than me. After all, I couldn't even keep their beloved baby brother alive. Getting up each day to the realization that Sterling really was never coming back was torture. Each day I was doing for others and just surviving.
At this time last year I had a few dreams of Sterling. Those dreams were very healing. Painful but healing. In one dream Sterling was in in my arms. He would be smiling one minute and dead the next. I would take him to the best doctors. They would revive him and send us on our way, only to have him die in my arms again. Finally Sterling died and the doctor let me take him home. A little girl came up smiling at Sterling and I freaked thinking this little girl was going to see a dead baby. But she surprised me. She kept smiling and talking to him. I can't explain it but it was in that moment in this dream that I realized Sterling is not really dead. Death is an illusion. He is alive and well in ways I needed to better understand.
I have not had many dreams of Sterling since that one. I feel like he had actually came to me to help me understand that I carry him with me always. I will see him again. Even in death he can still bring smiles to people's faces. I feel his presence in my dreams every once in a while now. I long to hold him in my dreams again, see his face, hear his laughter. I know when the time is right he will show himself to me again.
Today I am working on my health. Getting in shape. I have no desire to die like I did a year ago. I still want to be with Sterling but I take comfort in knowing that he is safe, he is happy and he is not feeling this pain that I feel. I still question so much but I know that if the doctors didn't see his defects in life there was no way I could have. I still carry some guilt as his mom for not being able to save him but I know his death wasn't my fault. Sterling has a legacy now. His story will educate others and hopefully save others from this pain.
Inside I felt dead. Yet I still got up each day. Got my kids ready for school. Worked and loved on other people's kids. At night I would sit in the stillness and just beg and plead for God to let me go home with Sterling now. My kids deserved so much better than me. After all, I couldn't even keep their beloved baby brother alive. Getting up each day to the realization that Sterling really was never coming back was torture. Each day I was doing for others and just surviving.
At this time last year I had a few dreams of Sterling. Those dreams were very healing. Painful but healing. In one dream Sterling was in in my arms. He would be smiling one minute and dead the next. I would take him to the best doctors. They would revive him and send us on our way, only to have him die in my arms again. Finally Sterling died and the doctor let me take him home. A little girl came up smiling at Sterling and I freaked thinking this little girl was going to see a dead baby. But she surprised me. She kept smiling and talking to him. I can't explain it but it was in that moment in this dream that I realized Sterling is not really dead. Death is an illusion. He is alive and well in ways I needed to better understand.
I have not had many dreams of Sterling since that one. I feel like he had actually came to me to help me understand that I carry him with me always. I will see him again. Even in death he can still bring smiles to people's faces. I feel his presence in my dreams every once in a while now. I long to hold him in my dreams again, see his face, hear his laughter. I know when the time is right he will show himself to me again.
Today I am working on my health. Getting in shape. I have no desire to die like I did a year ago. I still want to be with Sterling but I take comfort in knowing that he is safe, he is happy and he is not feeling this pain that I feel. I still question so much but I know that if the doctors didn't see his defects in life there was no way I could have. I still carry some guilt as his mom for not being able to save him but I know his death wasn't my fault. Sterling has a legacy now. His story will educate others and hopefully save others from this pain.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Being heard
From the moment I handed my baby's body over to a coroner and returned home to my children without him I have been afraid. I had no idea why Sterling stopped breathing that day. He seemed to be teething, maybe getting a tummy bug. Nothing that should have caused death.
So I not only was trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Sterling was never coming home again and what that really meant. But I was also faced with the knowledge that without a cause of death there was no way to protect my other children from the same fate. And illness found us right away and dug its heels in. Bouncing from one person to the next. Terrifying doesn't even begin to describe how I felt.
Then came the knowledge that Sterling had congenital heart defects. When I began researching I realized that his brothers were at risk. Their little hearts could be filled with defects. They could appear healthy until one day they would just stop breathing. I wanted them checked out. But our doctor thought I was just paranoid and didn't think testing was necessary.
I am not sure if I can explain what its like to see your child vomit at the gym (this is exactly what Sterling did one hour before he stopped breathing) and on the drive home he falls asleep. In my morror I see his little head fall forward and I can't breathe. I yell his name. No answer. I ask my oldest son to check to be sure he is breathing. My ten year old son knows how to do this now. My four year old does too. He is breathing. And I try really hard not to cry. This is my life now. This is my children's life now.
I called a doctor today who agreed to help me and the boys. He will look over Sterling's autopsy results. He will order testing for the boys. He understands my fears. He realizes that Sterling seemed so healthy too. This doctor doesn't treat me like I am crazy. He is actually going to help me. And the weight lifted today. Knowledge is power. Knowing that my boys have healthy hearts or even finding out they don't....either way knowing what we are up against is better than not knowing anything at all.
So I not only was trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Sterling was never coming home again and what that really meant. But I was also faced with the knowledge that without a cause of death there was no way to protect my other children from the same fate. And illness found us right away and dug its heels in. Bouncing from one person to the next. Terrifying doesn't even begin to describe how I felt.
Then came the knowledge that Sterling had congenital heart defects. When I began researching I realized that his brothers were at risk. Their little hearts could be filled with defects. They could appear healthy until one day they would just stop breathing. I wanted them checked out. But our doctor thought I was just paranoid and didn't think testing was necessary.
I am not sure if I can explain what its like to see your child vomit at the gym (this is exactly what Sterling did one hour before he stopped breathing) and on the drive home he falls asleep. In my morror I see his little head fall forward and I can't breathe. I yell his name. No answer. I ask my oldest son to check to be sure he is breathing. My ten year old son knows how to do this now. My four year old does too. He is breathing. And I try really hard not to cry. This is my life now. This is my children's life now.
I called a doctor today who agreed to help me and the boys. He will look over Sterling's autopsy results. He will order testing for the boys. He understands my fears. He realizes that Sterling seemed so healthy too. This doctor doesn't treat me like I am crazy. He is actually going to help me. And the weight lifted today. Knowledge is power. Knowing that my boys have healthy hearts or even finding out they don't....either way knowing what we are up against is better than not knowing anything at all.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
I asked...
I am embarking on a journey this year. It is one that I am not used to. Yet this last 14 months have made me a different person. I used to do for others to the point that I neglected myself. I had gained a crazy amount of weight and was used to not really having energy. I was so in love with my kids that I thought it was ok to neglect me. I can't believe how wrong I was.
When Sterling stopped breathing that day I had laid him down to rest with my mom watching him, I usually either held him while he slept or my mom did. That day I was going to get myself some lunch and prepare snacks and get things ready for the afternoon when everyone got up and the big kids came home from school. I never did get that lunch. Instead I would be doing CPR on my baby, screaming frantically for help and riding in an ambulance waiting desperately to hear my baby's cries.
I never did get to hear my baby's voice. Instead I sat vigil at his bedside, holding him, praying over him, begging for his healing. I couldn't eat, barely drank. Two days in the PICU with nothing but water maybe a bite here or there but I was so in shock that eating made me want to vomit. The next few weeks were the same. I know people brought food, thank God they did! My family had food because all I could do was try to understand Sterling was never coming home.
Then the illness began. Strep. Lovely strep that found us, heart broken and decided it would stay and make its rounds. I lost about 20 pounds in the first two weeks after Sterling died. People would tell me how great I looked, I would look at them and smile and say thank you. Inside I would scream "you just don't get it!! I would gain another 100 pounds if I could just have my baby back!!!" I would spend the next year going back and forth in my grief. So I would eat for a while then I would get flashbacks of those days and be unable to eat. After the first 8 or so months I had lost 43 pounds total.
The boys and I joined the gym and I began walking. Without the extra weight I was able to walk 3 miles a day. By doing that I was getting stronger and had energy and I began running, racing my boys in parking lots or down our street. They loved it! I loved it! They finally had a mom who could run and play with them. They absolutely love that I can do this with them now.
That's when I realized that is another gift from Sterling. His death has taken so much from our family but the gifts he has also given are slowly making us better. So this year I decided that I will try my hardest to lose another 43 pounds. This time on purpose. This time to honor Sterling. When I am racing his brothers I feel him with us. I feel him laughing. I FEEL him!! When I am working out and I think I look like a fool doing Zumba or I am not as great as others on the treadmill or in the training room, I FEEL my Sterling! I feel him with me, I feel encouraged by him to get healthy for his brothers, for ME!
I will take this gift from Sterling and I will make a change with me. I hope it will trickle down to my boys. Then I hope to work on helping others in Sterling's name. I feel so called to find a way to help other babies like Sterling to get the proper testing so that their families don't have to live the hell we have lived. Always and forever sweet boy.
When Sterling stopped breathing that day I had laid him down to rest with my mom watching him, I usually either held him while he slept or my mom did. That day I was going to get myself some lunch and prepare snacks and get things ready for the afternoon when everyone got up and the big kids came home from school. I never did get that lunch. Instead I would be doing CPR on my baby, screaming frantically for help and riding in an ambulance waiting desperately to hear my baby's cries.
I never did get to hear my baby's voice. Instead I sat vigil at his bedside, holding him, praying over him, begging for his healing. I couldn't eat, barely drank. Two days in the PICU with nothing but water maybe a bite here or there but I was so in shock that eating made me want to vomit. The next few weeks were the same. I know people brought food, thank God they did! My family had food because all I could do was try to understand Sterling was never coming home.
Then the illness began. Strep. Lovely strep that found us, heart broken and decided it would stay and make its rounds. I lost about 20 pounds in the first two weeks after Sterling died. People would tell me how great I looked, I would look at them and smile and say thank you. Inside I would scream "you just don't get it!! I would gain another 100 pounds if I could just have my baby back!!!" I would spend the next year going back and forth in my grief. So I would eat for a while then I would get flashbacks of those days and be unable to eat. After the first 8 or so months I had lost 43 pounds total.
The boys and I joined the gym and I began walking. Without the extra weight I was able to walk 3 miles a day. By doing that I was getting stronger and had energy and I began running, racing my boys in parking lots or down our street. They loved it! I loved it! They finally had a mom who could run and play with them. They absolutely love that I can do this with them now.
That's when I realized that is another gift from Sterling. His death has taken so much from our family but the gifts he has also given are slowly making us better. So this year I decided that I will try my hardest to lose another 43 pounds. This time on purpose. This time to honor Sterling. When I am racing his brothers I feel him with us. I feel him laughing. I FEEL him!! When I am working out and I think I look like a fool doing Zumba or I am not as great as others on the treadmill or in the training room, I FEEL my Sterling! I feel him with me, I feel encouraged by him to get healthy for his brothers, for ME!
I will take this gift from Sterling and I will make a change with me. I hope it will trickle down to my boys. Then I hope to work on helping others in Sterling's name. I feel so called to find a way to help other babies like Sterling to get the proper testing so that their families don't have to live the hell we have lived. Always and forever sweet boy.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Diaper Bag
I have tried many times over the last 14 months to clean out and put away sterling's diaper bag. It served as my purse for the 13 months 2 weeks and 6 days Sterling was living in his earthly body. I am beginning to open it and its like a time capsule. Receipts dated no later than November 2011. Except for one that was dated 12/8/11 and its filled with clothing bought for Sterling's bubbas and I to wear to his visitation and memorial.
The bag is covered in a layer of dust. In the big compartment is his blanket. It first belonged to his big brother and was passed down. Its also the blanket that I draped around my shoulders while in the PICU. Under that is his cute little Hanna Anderson jammies he was wearing that day. His pacifier is still attached. I can still smell where he threw up and got some on him. Gross, I know, but its my baby. Everything else had been washed by his big sister because she, like all of us, was so sure he would be coming home. So she wanted to help me by having everything clean and ready. I want so bad to be angry about it but I can't, her heart was in the right place when she did it.
Then comes all the little stuff. His bottle filled with water, his powdered formula dispenser with three compartments filled and ready for a bottle. Extra pacifiers. A comb. Lotions. Hand sanitizer. A lone sock, his feet were still so tiny. Papers from when we went to Shedd Aquarium for his first birthday. His little hat from Brookfield Zoo. One of his spoons. Crayons and paper for the big boys. A time capsule from when I was more organized. His bag shows all the stuff we used to do, all the places we went.
I can still smell him on those jammies. My 6 year old just quietly saw what I was doing and he came over, no words spoken and he gently touched the jammies and drank in a big smell too. "I can still smell Sterling....I miss him so much...." A few tears and now I will take pictures and document and throw away most of the papers. I will place his personal things back in the bag. Wipe off the dust and put it safely in a bin with the rest of his things.
I miss him. I just wish for one more hug, one more kiss one more anything with him. Always and forever sweet boy.
The bag is covered in a layer of dust. In the big compartment is his blanket. It first belonged to his big brother and was passed down. Its also the blanket that I draped around my shoulders while in the PICU. Under that is his cute little Hanna Anderson jammies he was wearing that day. His pacifier is still attached. I can still smell where he threw up and got some on him. Gross, I know, but its my baby. Everything else had been washed by his big sister because she, like all of us, was so sure he would be coming home. So she wanted to help me by having everything clean and ready. I want so bad to be angry about it but I can't, her heart was in the right place when she did it.
Then comes all the little stuff. His bottle filled with water, his powdered formula dispenser with three compartments filled and ready for a bottle. Extra pacifiers. A comb. Lotions. Hand sanitizer. A lone sock, his feet were still so tiny. Papers from when we went to Shedd Aquarium for his first birthday. His little hat from Brookfield Zoo. One of his spoons. Crayons and paper for the big boys. A time capsule from when I was more organized. His bag shows all the stuff we used to do, all the places we went.
I can still smell him on those jammies. My 6 year old just quietly saw what I was doing and he came over, no words spoken and he gently touched the jammies and drank in a big smell too. "I can still smell Sterling....I miss him so much...." A few tears and now I will take pictures and document and throw away most of the papers. I will place his personal things back in the bag. Wipe off the dust and put it safely in a bin with the rest of his things.
I miss him. I just wish for one more hug, one more kiss one more anything with him. Always and forever sweet boy.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Cleaning....
I decided to clean my house today. Part of me is ready to really clean again like I used to. The other push is that my license renewal is coming up and with that comes a home inspection. No, my house isn't that bad. But its amazing what piles up over 14 months when you are healing from the death of your son. I have cleaned over the last 14 months. I have put most of Sterling's things carefully away for when I am ready to look at them.
I have tried a few times to pull out Sterling's clothes and toys and hold them and remember him. Problem is I never get very far. One or two shirts in and I am in tears. Sobbing, hard, ugly tears. I know my son was and continues to be a beautiful gift. I know I am a better person for having had him in my life then if I had never had him at all. I know we will do great things in his honor. But when I am holding his little "greatest little brother" tee in my hands all I can think is how much I wish his chubby little self was in the tee. All I can think is that my baby was stolen from us. All I can think is that I want him back. Then I get cold, begin shaking and the tears and moans.
Today while cleaning the kitchen I came across a bottle and bib and little baby bottle cooler that we used for day trips. I thought I had put all his stuff from the kitchen away. But here were little reminders of Sterling tucked on shelves under things we rarely use. I loved finding these things. It brought me a smile. It felt good and I felt great cleaning and organizing my kitchen the way it used to be.
Then I took a break. Went to Target. Took the boys out for dinner. Came home and thought "why not tackle the dinning room?" That's when I found a brand new pacifier, never used. Then came a little pair of Nike's and a pair of Puma's. These things Sterling never used. These things bring tears. He would be too big for them now. I know this. I should be packing them up to give them to a friend. Instead I am cleaning off the dust and wondering if I should keep something he never used? I have a bunch of brand new Gymboree clothes I bought him for Christmas that came on the day I was at the funeral home making arrangements for his funeral. One of those outfits he wore for his visitation. "Mommy's Little Cub" imprinted on the onesie.
Today I cleaned. Today I threw away some things that just a few months ago I couldn't. I hated cleaning because I knew with every wipe of the dust I was wiping away Sterling. That dust was here with him. Those things were here with him, I may have even bought it with him. Up until today I didn't want anything to change in this house. Today I decided that we could change things. We could even let things go. Those things are not Sterling. They never were and they never will be. Sterling is an amazing little love who will never be erased from our lives. Even if everything changes, and I know it will over time, Sterling was and is and forever will be love. He will always be a part of us. Always.
I have tried a few times to pull out Sterling's clothes and toys and hold them and remember him. Problem is I never get very far. One or two shirts in and I am in tears. Sobbing, hard, ugly tears. I know my son was and continues to be a beautiful gift. I know I am a better person for having had him in my life then if I had never had him at all. I know we will do great things in his honor. But when I am holding his little "greatest little brother" tee in my hands all I can think is how much I wish his chubby little self was in the tee. All I can think is that my baby was stolen from us. All I can think is that I want him back. Then I get cold, begin shaking and the tears and moans.
Today while cleaning the kitchen I came across a bottle and bib and little baby bottle cooler that we used for day trips. I thought I had put all his stuff from the kitchen away. But here were little reminders of Sterling tucked on shelves under things we rarely use. I loved finding these things. It brought me a smile. It felt good and I felt great cleaning and organizing my kitchen the way it used to be.
Then I took a break. Went to Target. Took the boys out for dinner. Came home and thought "why not tackle the dinning room?" That's when I found a brand new pacifier, never used. Then came a little pair of Nike's and a pair of Puma's. These things Sterling never used. These things bring tears. He would be too big for them now. I know this. I should be packing them up to give them to a friend. Instead I am cleaning off the dust and wondering if I should keep something he never used? I have a bunch of brand new Gymboree clothes I bought him for Christmas that came on the day I was at the funeral home making arrangements for his funeral. One of those outfits he wore for his visitation. "Mommy's Little Cub" imprinted on the onesie.
Today I cleaned. Today I threw away some things that just a few months ago I couldn't. I hated cleaning because I knew with every wipe of the dust I was wiping away Sterling. That dust was here with him. Those things were here with him, I may have even bought it with him. Up until today I didn't want anything to change in this house. Today I decided that we could change things. We could even let things go. Those things are not Sterling. They never were and they never will be. Sterling is an amazing little love who will never be erased from our lives. Even if everything changes, and I know it will over time, Sterling was and is and forever will be love. He will always be a part of us. Always.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Hindsight is 20/20
Sterling was a happy baby. He rarely fussed. I held him often and believe in attachment parenting. For us that meant that Sterling often napped in my arms or his Grammy's arms. He spent lots of time on my hip or riding in his Ergo carrier right on my chest. I made sure his bottles were waiting for him so he could be fed as soon as he let me know he was hungry. He was talked with and played with and doted on by me and his Grammy and his sissy and his bubbas. He smiled often and laughed often. He rarely cried.
I have no idea if that is why Sterling lived for as long as he did with the defects he had. I would love to believe it though. He looked so chubby and healthy. He did however have some signs, I had no idea then but I know now. Sterling liked to sleep. I thought I got lucky. He did wake up to eat at night as a tiny baby but by 3 or 4 months was sleeping 6-8 hours at night.
At a year old and up until he died at 13 1/2 months old he was sleeping 8-10 hours at night and still doing a morning nap and an afternoon nap. If we went anywhere in the car he was out within minutes. He would play and crawl but he wasn't walking yet and showed no real interest, he did cruise the furniture though. I remember thinking if he was still sleeping so much I would bring it up at his 15 month check up. I also remember he wouldn't hold his bottle. I didn't know if it was a delay or he just didn't want to. I enjoyed our bonding time with his bottles and thought he probably did too. I wonder now if he just didn't have the energy to hold his bottle and drink at the same time?
Sterling had several respiratory issues and he took twice as long as everyone else to recover from a cold or illness. It worried me but with his prenatal history it wasn't uncommon. His brothers were the same and usually by the second and third years it got better for them.
The more I learn the more I see opportunities where we could have done testing. Maybe Sterling would still be here, maybe not. But we would have known what we were up against. I fully believe that his prenatal history played a role in all of this. Both from missed prenatal scans to check his heart and in the fact that his respiratory symptoms could be explained by his history. I fully believe that for babies like Sterling, with similar prenatal history, there should be better screenings. I hope that one day all babies like Sterling can have a better fighting start at life.
I have no idea if that is why Sterling lived for as long as he did with the defects he had. I would love to believe it though. He looked so chubby and healthy. He did however have some signs, I had no idea then but I know now. Sterling liked to sleep. I thought I got lucky. He did wake up to eat at night as a tiny baby but by 3 or 4 months was sleeping 6-8 hours at night.
At a year old and up until he died at 13 1/2 months old he was sleeping 8-10 hours at night and still doing a morning nap and an afternoon nap. If we went anywhere in the car he was out within minutes. He would play and crawl but he wasn't walking yet and showed no real interest, he did cruise the furniture though. I remember thinking if he was still sleeping so much I would bring it up at his 15 month check up. I also remember he wouldn't hold his bottle. I didn't know if it was a delay or he just didn't want to. I enjoyed our bonding time with his bottles and thought he probably did too. I wonder now if he just didn't have the energy to hold his bottle and drink at the same time?
Sterling had several respiratory issues and he took twice as long as everyone else to recover from a cold or illness. It worried me but with his prenatal history it wasn't uncommon. His brothers were the same and usually by the second and third years it got better for them.
The more I learn the more I see opportunities where we could have done testing. Maybe Sterling would still be here, maybe not. But we would have known what we were up against. I fully believe that his prenatal history played a role in all of this. Both from missed prenatal scans to check his heart and in the fact that his respiratory symptoms could be explained by his history. I fully believe that for babies like Sterling, with similar prenatal history, there should be better screenings. I hope that one day all babies like Sterling can have a better fighting start at life.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Answers...
It took nearly eight months after Sterling died to get some answers as to what took him from us. I will never forget that warm July day when the phone rang and I saw the number. The blood drained from my body as I listened to the coroner tell me that my beautiful baby boy had "multiple congenital heart defects" and that his cause of death would be listed as "natural." I began shaking and crying. Not the small, keep it quiet cry. No, I had that primal, from deep within sobbing. Sterling was thirteen months old. Sterling was chubby and healthy and one of the littlest loves of my life. What could possibly be "natural" about his death?
I did what I have learned to do. I allowed myself to cry, to question, to be angry and to feel whatever I needed to feel. I was told there was nothing I could have done to prevent his death. I began looking into congenital heart defects and I was stunned. 1 in every 100 births have a CHD. Its underfunded and its not researched at the level as other childhood diseases. I also learned there are 35 known defects and was asked by other CHD moms which ones Sterling had. I didn't know. I was scared to find out. Why? I really don't know.
Yesterday I finally called and asked for the names of Sterling's CHD's. Today I got a page full. I originally counted nine but I think there are eight. I am trying to google and learn what they all mean. Could he have been tested with any kind of test and could they have been detected and would Sterling still be here if they had been? Does his birth history play any role? Are his bubbas at risk? I am trying not to let the fear consume me. But it terrifies me that his little heart could have so much wrong with it and yet he looked so healthy.
February 7-14 is Congenital Heart Defect Awareness Week. I will definitely make sure I do my part and spread awareness. I will focus on doing that and in doing so find Hope that Sterling's death was not in vain. Sterling will educate others through me and through his bubbas. Please remember Sterling during CHD awareness week. If you have a Facebook page post a fact about CHD's. If you blog maybe do a blog post raising awareness. If you can sneak it into a conversation please do so.
Sterling was and is Love. Its the one and only thing that has helped me to see the light again. Sterling knew he was loved. Its in his eyes in every picture I have. It can even be heard in his voice in the videos I have. Sterling was doted on by his big brothers, or as he called them his "bubbas." He was a Momma's boy through and through. Sterling was and is Love. And my soul knows he has returned to a place of Love unlike any other. I just miss him so much.....
I did what I have learned to do. I allowed myself to cry, to question, to be angry and to feel whatever I needed to feel. I was told there was nothing I could have done to prevent his death. I began looking into congenital heart defects and I was stunned. 1 in every 100 births have a CHD. Its underfunded and its not researched at the level as other childhood diseases. I also learned there are 35 known defects and was asked by other CHD moms which ones Sterling had. I didn't know. I was scared to find out. Why? I really don't know.
Yesterday I finally called and asked for the names of Sterling's CHD's. Today I got a page full. I originally counted nine but I think there are eight. I am trying to google and learn what they all mean. Could he have been tested with any kind of test and could they have been detected and would Sterling still be here if they had been? Does his birth history play any role? Are his bubbas at risk? I am trying not to let the fear consume me. But it terrifies me that his little heart could have so much wrong with it and yet he looked so healthy.
February 7-14 is Congenital Heart Defect Awareness Week. I will definitely make sure I do my part and spread awareness. I will focus on doing that and in doing so find Hope that Sterling's death was not in vain. Sterling will educate others through me and through his bubbas. Please remember Sterling during CHD awareness week. If you have a Facebook page post a fact about CHD's. If you blog maybe do a blog post raising awareness. If you can sneak it into a conversation please do so.
Sterling was and is Love. Its the one and only thing that has helped me to see the light again. Sterling knew he was loved. Its in his eyes in every picture I have. It can even be heard in his voice in the videos I have. Sterling was doted on by his big brothers, or as he called them his "bubbas." He was a Momma's boy through and through. Sterling was and is Love. And my soul knows he has returned to a place of Love unlike any other. I just miss him so much.....
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
13 months 2 weeks and 6 days later...
Today as I sat deciding wether or not to go with my four year old on his field trip, deciding wether or not to take a few extra kiddos with me I felt sad. So very sad. I realized I did this field trip with my now 6 year old last year when he was in the four year old preschool class. It was the first field trip after Sterling had died. I remember sobbing the entire drive to the museum last year. I remember begging Sterling and God for strength. I remember I did it. I don't remember much else about that day. I knew I had to go for my now four year old. I had to go for him and because I will never again have this field trip. Sterling will never get to go see the dinosaurs. I will never get to snap his picture with his little friends as they giggle about the word Paleontologist.
If all that wasn't enough for my mood today, it occured to me that today Sterling has been out of his body for the same amount of time he was in it. Tomorrow he will have been gone longer than he was here. I don't know exactly what to say about it. Its a hard thing to wrap my mind around. I so much wish I could know the two year old Sterling. So much I just miss watching him grow and change and laugh and play and cry and and and. I miss so much of who Sterling was and who he will never get to be.
Oh sweet boy. I remember giving you a little bath with the nurse that day. I will never forget her words as we lotioned you up, telling you we were "making you look and smell so good for when you meet Jesus." It broke my heart when she said it. I was still so hopeful you would breathe that day. I just knew they were going to turn off those machines and you were going to love being in my arms so much you were going to breathe. As I held you, smelling your beautiful baby scent, I told you many things. I told you I would love you forever, like you for always as long as I'm living my baby you'll be. Love you sweet boy. always and forever.
If all that wasn't enough for my mood today, it occured to me that today Sterling has been out of his body for the same amount of time he was in it. Tomorrow he will have been gone longer than he was here. I don't know exactly what to say about it. Its a hard thing to wrap my mind around. I so much wish I could know the two year old Sterling. So much I just miss watching him grow and change and laugh and play and cry and and and. I miss so much of who Sterling was and who he will never get to be.
Oh sweet boy. I remember giving you a little bath with the nurse that day. I will never forget her words as we lotioned you up, telling you we were "making you look and smell so good for when you meet Jesus." It broke my heart when she said it. I was still so hopeful you would breathe that day. I just knew they were going to turn off those machines and you were going to love being in my arms so much you were going to breathe. As I held you, smelling your beautiful baby scent, I told you many things. I told you I would love you forever, like you for always as long as I'm living my baby you'll be. Love you sweet boy. always and forever.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
Learning
My boys and I have been staying home this Christmas break. Not because we are sad. Its because the flu is going around really bad and this Mom can still barely handle illness without a little help from some anti-anxiety pills and lots of reassurance from friends, family and doctors that this child will be OK. This child is going to be just fine.
So today the staying home thing got to be a little much and we decided to venture out to our YMCA. I am in desperate need of some alone time and a good workout. So off we go. We came upon a horrific scene. Someone laying, absolutely motionless in the road. There were several people around this person. They seemed scared and unsure of what they should be doing. Honestly its a look I remember all too well. That desperation for someone to please come and fix this. So I roll my window down and ask if they need me to call 911. Nope someone already did. I ask is the person breathing because I do know CPR. They tell me the ambulance is on their way. But is the person breathing?? I never got an answer as the police and ambulance came right then. I decided to go. I couldn't stand to see anymore.
I was shaking when I realized the silence from the backseat. Absolute silence from three little boys who know exactly what a motionless body could mean. Then a little, shaky voice "Mommy??....Is...Are...Did they die?" I tell them I don't know but we should say a prayer. I hear the words come out of my mouth. If you have known me this last year then you know my questioning of prayer. I mean we prayed, others prayed for Sterling to wake up. We all know he never did. So I am not sure about this whole prayer thing.
Driving back home I began thinking about why my boys who have already seen too much had to see this too. Why? And I realized that this tragedy isn't ours. While a bit traumatizing we won't have to live with any of the outcomes (and I am hopeful the person is just fine). And as for prayer, well, I always pray for others in these situations. My prayers sound a little different today though. I do ask that God please heal the person and give them back to their families but I also pray that the families have peace with whatever the outcome. I focus my prayers on those left picking up the pieces. To help them find comfort and peace and not feel so alone. I think with each experience I am finding more peace with the absolute randomness of life. Which I am seeing more and more just isn't.
So today the staying home thing got to be a little much and we decided to venture out to our YMCA. I am in desperate need of some alone time and a good workout. So off we go. We came upon a horrific scene. Someone laying, absolutely motionless in the road. There were several people around this person. They seemed scared and unsure of what they should be doing. Honestly its a look I remember all too well. That desperation for someone to please come and fix this. So I roll my window down and ask if they need me to call 911. Nope someone already did. I ask is the person breathing because I do know CPR. They tell me the ambulance is on their way. But is the person breathing?? I never got an answer as the police and ambulance came right then. I decided to go. I couldn't stand to see anymore.
I was shaking when I realized the silence from the backseat. Absolute silence from three little boys who know exactly what a motionless body could mean. Then a little, shaky voice "Mommy??....Is...Are...Did they die?" I tell them I don't know but we should say a prayer. I hear the words come out of my mouth. If you have known me this last year then you know my questioning of prayer. I mean we prayed, others prayed for Sterling to wake up. We all know he never did. So I am not sure about this whole prayer thing.
Driving back home I began thinking about why my boys who have already seen too much had to see this too. Why? And I realized that this tragedy isn't ours. While a bit traumatizing we won't have to live with any of the outcomes (and I am hopeful the person is just fine). And as for prayer, well, I always pray for others in these situations. My prayers sound a little different today though. I do ask that God please heal the person and give them back to their families but I also pray that the families have peace with whatever the outcome. I focus my prayers on those left picking up the pieces. To help them find comfort and peace and not feel so alone. I think with each experience I am finding more peace with the absolute randomness of life. Which I am seeing more and more just isn't.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)