December.....

     This month begins with memories of the three worst days of my life. The first, second and third. The days Sterling died. Then comes the hustle and bustle of the season. Getting everything ready and just so for Christmas. I also have a son who has a birthday Christmas Eve. He will be eight this year.  He has struggled the most, outwardly anyway, of all my children.  He saw so much more then his brothers that day. He harbors the most anger. He is also my sweetest, most kind hearted child who, at the age of three, was watching a story about the Haitian orphans and ran to his piggy bank and told me to send them his money so they could have food and clothes and toys. He also asked me if we could adopt any of them. He had just turned three.

     The year Sterling died, when I could barely function, his fifth birthday was just twenty-one days after. But we got him a cake. We sang to him. We tried so hard to celebrate his life. He smiled in the pictures. He seemed unaware that I had lost track of time and my oldest daughter had gone out and bought his cake that morning. He waited so patiently to blow out his candles. I would find out later during a nightmare and the crying that always followed what he wished for. He wished for his baby brother back. In his newly turned five year old mind, birthday wishes come true. Sterling was coming back. He was so devastated to learn that was not ever going to happen, no matter how good we are or how much we want it to happen.

     This December we have been down with a the flu and strep. We have been forced to sit at home. To sleep. To relax. I thought that as we were all beginning to feel better, we should put up our tree. This child of mine, who has always delighted in this season of giving and his birthday, he begged me not to put the tree up. He became naughty. He did everything in his power to deflect from his very painful sadness that this season now brings us.

     When I sat alone with him, he began to cry. He pleaded with me not to put the tree up. He had changed his mind and he didn't want Christmas this year. We talked. I told him how this time of year hurts me too. It is hard to celebrate family when such a loved piece of ours is no longer physically here to celebrate with us. But we can still love Christmas. We can still find some joy. Those things can coexist with the pain. I told my son, who is almost eight, that its ok for us to be sad. We can even feel cheated and angry. But we can't stop living. Life will keep moving forward, with or without us. And I want to be a part of it. Because as long as we are a part of it, so is Sterling. "Because he is always in our hearts...." Yes, my sweet, almost eight year old, yes.

Hope....Time....Healing....

     I'm trying so hard to keep finding hope with our Sterling physically here. I am. I promise. It's just hard. I guess I figured that by the time we would be just days away from the 3 year mark, it would be easier. So many people really do think that time heals all wounds. I just think that when your child dies, its a whole different kind of wound. Time is not always my friend.

     This last month leading up to the days that my son died has been hard. I find myself crying more. I'm grumpier. I don't always want to be around people. I find most of the things other people stress out about to be annoying. In many ways it feels like the first months after Sterling died. But its been almost 3 years. It's harder and harder for me to find people willing to listen and not try to fix me.

     I don't need fixing. I am broken. But I also know I am healing. I have been doing this grief thing for almost 3 years now. I know there are ups and downs. I am in a down moment. I just need people to remember my son. I need people to tell me that this is the worst thing that could ever happen and they are so proud of me for choosing to live and that its ok if I can't always smile and be there for them. I need people to know how exhausting this still is for me. How much energy it takes to wake up each morning and take care of my boys and to take care of myself.

      I am lucky in that I do have a few of these people in my life. I know Sterling sent them to me. They listen when I talk and they tear up. When I beg for donations to the Pediatric Congenital Heart Association in his name for what should have been his fourth birthday, they go above and beyond to make sure I make the goal I set. They are the ones who see the same picture or video they have seen a dozen times of Sterling and they click the like button or they even take a second and comment. They have no idea what that means to me, or maybe they do. Either way, I am so grateful for them.

      Tomorrow we will celebrate Thanksgiving. I am so thankful for my children. All of them. But it will be hard. So I am going to squeeze in a few hours of working out in a few classes by my favorite instructors. I will be pushed and I will want to stop. But I won't. And when its over I will gather my boys and we will head home to make our dinner. We will likely set Sterling's picture at the table and maybe even light a candle. The boys have been asking more again. About his life and about his death.

     I miss Sterling, I always will. I will always try to live my life in such a way that makes him proud. I will never stop talking about him. I will never stop trying to save other families from knowing this pain. My heart is forever broken but healing. Time won't fix it though. My desire to heal will. Having people in my life who are willing to listen will. If you know a grieving parent or sibling, please be kind and gentle with them. They may smile and be trying to live again, but its hard. And it takes so much time, possibly a lifetime.

     Sterling, you are loved and you are missed, always and forever.

Loving this time of year.....

     I was at Target this weekend with my boys when we saw Christmas stuff out. I said how the time of year was always my favorite. The boys looked at me with perplexed looks on their faces. "You DO?" Was their response. And it ht me, like a slap across the face. This will be our 4th Christmas without Sterling physically here.

     My boys are little. Four years is a long time. They don't really remember the holidays before. It breaks my heart. Their memories are of a sad Mommy who was on edge most of the holiday season.
I know I tried to be joyful for them. I know that each year has gotten better. But my boys, they feel my longing, they long, for a holiday with Sterling.

     It is now November, a very hard month for me. A month when I can go back over pictures and see my baby's puffy eyes and hands in some pictures and wonder how I didn't see it in life?  When I can look back and think that I should've pushed the doctors to do a chest x-ray. Or wonder why didn't I get a second or third or fifth opinion? And its also the last holiday we spent with Sterling, Thanksgiving.  Sterling woke up on December 1st not feeling well. Sometime in the afternoon he left us. Our lives turned completely upside down.

     We have worked hard at healing our broken hearts. I have decided that I am going to work even harder to take back November. After all, I got two Novembers with Sterling. That is something I can't say for any other month. We got two full Novembers with Sterling. Two Thanksgivings. It is a special month. One that should be celebrated.

     December 1-3 can wait. Those will always be the worst days of my life. And I will deal with them when I get to them. Please keep our little family in your prayers, these next few months are hard for us. But we are going to find the joy in the season. We are going to remember Sterling. We are going to live.

Control

     I'm sure I've written about my issues with control before. I really felt like I could control so much before Sterling died. I fed him (and my other boys) organic food. I bought the safest minivan and put my kids in the best car safety seats. Sterling was still rear facing even after he turned one and that was when they were just starting to recommend that. I bought them clothes that looked a certain way. I guess I felt if I did it all the "right' way, then my boys would be safe and healthy and happy.

      When Sterling was in the PICU and we were trying to figure out what happened to him, when I was in complete shock, I remember repeating over and over again how I fed him organic food, I bought the best car seat, how I never laid him down, why did I lay him down this afternoon?? I was assured over and over again whatever happened to Sterling was not in my control. But I was sure it was. Clearly I did something wrong to cause this.

     Months and months of counseling and an eventual diagnosis of CHD's would tell me I was in no way responsible for Sterling's death. But I still struggled, I still struggle today from time to time. I used to think I had far more control over my life and the lives of my children. I still struggle with it. Which is why today, when I had planned such a nice little celebration for Sterling's fourth birthday, and the weather wouldn't cooperate, I was so upset.

     It was my friend who told me I couldn't control it. I can't control the weather anymore then I could control that monster in Sterling's chest. That ticking time bomb just waiting to turn our lives upside down. She even said today was probably Sterling saying "when are you going to get it Mom?" It clicked again. When am I going to get it? Life is full of what ifs and if onlys.

     I was starting to feel so responsible for Sterling's death again. So guilty for not seeing the signs I know had to be there. So guilty for not having more control over it all. But this rain today that ruined our plans for his birthday, I could not control it either. And while today was not at all what I had envisioned, it was ok. We still celebrated Sterling with a few friends who knew him in life. Several friends messaged me letting me know they were thinking of him and us.

     I'm starting to really get it baby boy. My head and my heart. It's not ok for me to feel like I had any control in your death. If I did, you would still be here. I love and miss you sweet boy. Always and forever.

So grateful for the time we had.......

     This is the weekend before Sterling's 4th birthday on Monday. This is also the weekend that three of the bubbas get to go to Camp Erin. We have been excited for this to come. It will be so good for them to be around kids who know grief like they do. Where they can share Sterling without the awkward silence that comes when they tell kids that Sterling died. They are going to get to do several activities aimed at helping them heal. They also will spend two nights away from home. The only other time they have spent two nights away from me is when Sterling stopped breathing and I was in the PICU with him.

     Driving in to drop off for camp there were tears. There were lots of "but Mommy, I need to sleep where you do! Can't you just come at night and sleep with us?" I kept telling them that they were going to have so much fun, they weren't going to have time to miss me. Saying goodbye and walking out that door was hard, FOR ME! They were excited and already making friends. I came home alone. With a lot of time to think. I also had several friends texting and calling asking how I was doing.

     I'm sad. I have had some quiet time to think and I just feel sad. Sad that Sterling isn't here. Sad that my boys even have a reason to attend this camp. Sad that there are so many kids attending this camp because someone they love dearly has died. But so grateful it exists for them. So grateful.

     Life is all about love and loss and finding our way through it all. I believe that the bubbas and I have worked hard at finding a purpose and living again. Its not easy. It can be exhausting at times. Moments when I just want to shout to the injustice of our precious boy not here to grow up with his bubbas. And I do shout it. ITS NOT FAIR!!!! He was so loved, so wanted, so adored!! We miss him. The missing is the part that never goes away.

     I've talked so much about his death, the excruciating pain that we felt in the days and months after his death. Today I want to share his life with all of you. He had an amazing 13 months 2 weeks and 6 days. He truly did. He never knew anything but unconditional love. He never had his heart broken. He was never reprimanded. He only knew loving arms and loving smiles.

     Sterling had begun saying several words in the last months of his life. His favorites were "Mommmmm" with the emphasis on the last mmmmm sound. Oh how I miss hearing that whenever I would leave a room. And the boom, boom, boom, of his crawl as he powered crawled to wherever I was. He loved watching his brothers play and called them "bubbas" he would also say "baba" for bottle and sometimes these would be confused by me. He would never turn down a bottle though, so all was good! He loved his food! He had just learned how to say one of his bubbas names. They joy that brought my oldest son! "He said MY name first!" The other boys were then on a mission to teach Sterling to say their names as well. He adored that attention! He was sooooo close to taking his first, unassisted steps. he would cruise the furniture like a pro though.

     On this day three years ago we went into Chicago to the airport. The boys loved watching the planes take off and land. Sterling was in my arms when a huge plane flew right over our heads as it was landing. Sterling startled at first and then said "Whoaaaaaa" as he pointed to the plane and snuggled into my chest. If you ever watched Blossom and remember Joey's "Whoaaa" that's how Sterling did it. We had so much fun. He was becoming a little boy. He was so brave, so friendly, just as long as he was in my arms.

    Sterling was loved in life. He is loved in death. Sterling will be missed and loved and talked about always. We can be sad he isn't here. We can remember his life.  But we will never pretend that its ok that he died. We can come to terms with him not being here. We can live again. We can, and have, made new lives for ourselves. But we will never pretend that we are ok with him not being here. Ever. That means we will have sad days. We will have joyful days. We are healing. I think we will be healing for the rest of our lives.

     When you love someone so much, that love doesn't ever go away. It changes over time, but it never goes away. When someone you love dies, that love grows and changes as well.

     I still can't believe that 4 years ago this beautiful little soul made his entrance into this world. I can't believe its almost been 3 years that he left it. Always and forever sweet boy.

His 4th Birthday is coming......

    Sterling's fourth birthday is coming up. There is a lot to do. I've decided to make the loveys a yearly thing on his birthday. Every baby born on his birthday will go home with a soft, giraffe on the fabric lovey. Attached to the lovey will be a little card with the possible signs of a congenital heart defect.  Sterling loved his Sophie giraffe and he loved his soft lovey. So I combine the two for a sweet little tribute to Sterling while raising awareness.

     The other tradition is letting off lanterns. The first year was wet and windy and only a few made it. last year was gorgeous and several made it and it was absolutely beautiful! This year I am inviting everyone to come out to the park and help us release as many as possible all at once. I can't wait and am hoping for good weather.

     I have also created a little challenge to raise money to support Pediatric Congenital Heart Association. I made a little video montage showing what I do for heart health, I have lost 60 pounds since Sterling died and working out has been very beneficial in my healing. I am asking everyone to donate $4 to them and show me what you do for heart health. My goal is small, $400 by his birthday. If I make my goal then 100 people will have seen the video and know about Sterling and CHD's. Maybe they will tell their friends. And so on.

     I still look at his pictures and videos and wonder how this is real. How is he not snuggled up next to me? How is he not a preschooler? How are we not planning his 4th birthday party by picking out his favorite character or animal or toy to go on his cake? How is it that all I have physically left of my son are baby things when he would be a little boy now?

     People tell me I inspire them. That I have such an amazing story and what I am doing is important. I still cringe a little inside when I hear those things. I am a mom. A mom who loves her children. A mom that is living a life with one of the pieces of her heart missing from her arms. I think about him often throughout the day. And sometimes, the magnitude of his absence feels like it will crush me at any moment. Sometimes, the pain of that comes rolling down my cheeks.

     I am a mom who wishes she could be planning a party WITH and FOR my 4 year old. Instead I am planning things to do to keep his memory alive and to help raise awareness and fight for more funding for more research so that other families may be given that chance. I am hopeful that Sterling will make a difference, I just wish he could've done it from my arms.

     If you would like to help me make my goal please go to http://conqueringchd.org/ and donate $4, please put "Sterling's Birthday" in the memo line or where it says "note" I would love to know the goal was met. And please share his story. Thank you.

     Always and Forever

 

This is where I am today.....

     My whole life I have felt like I didn't belong. I didn't want to be here. It was hard for me trying to fit into a world I always knew I wasn't made for. That is, until I became a mom. Suddenly I knew exactly why I was here. I won't say it was always easy, or that I never wanted to scream, running from the house. But I loved these little souls that had been brought into my life.

     Then Sterling died. Suddenly. He just stopped breathing and two days later I watched as the coroner took his body away. I suddenly felt pain unlike anything I had ever felt in my entire lifetime. All the things I used to occupy my mind worrying about seemed so unimportant now. I didn't know what to make of any of it. I desperately wanted to join him but knew I couldn't, not yet. But what could I do to manage this pain? I needed to manage this somehow.

     So I joined the Y. Not knowing how or why but I drove my boys to our local Y and joined. Every single day we would drive to the Y where they could play and I would walk. Ear buds in, sometimes the sweat would hide the tears. I would walk and wonder how in the hell this became my life? I needed my baby, not some stupid work out routine. But every single day we would come back and do it again.

     My kids started making friends. I started getting complimented on how well I looked. We somehow managed to make it through that first year. With a lot of hard work and determination, we survived an entire year without Sterling. I began wondering what else I could do. So I joined a Zumba class and I began making friends. I began having fun while working out. And I noticed I didn't need the anxiety pills anymore. I noticed I could go out and I wasn't in a panic. I began to live again.

      I added a personal trainer. I was sure I wasn't going to make it. But I felt like I had nothing left to lose and everything to gain. I felt I owed it to Sterling to become a better person, to carry him in my heart as long as I possibly could. In order to do that, I needed to live a long, healthy life. So I added on some new classes. I tried to push my physical limits just as hard as my spiritual ones had been.

     I began seeing the biggest changes in me then, and before I knew it we were at the second year mark. Two years without Sterling. We had not only survived but had slowly began thriving.

     We are now halfway through the third year without Sterling. I won't say its been easy. I won't say its getting easier. I still wake up every single morning missing him. I still think about him every single day. I still go to bed missing him. Some nights tears will still stain my pillow.

     I remember being told it will get easier. Its not true. I just had to decide what I wanted for my life and for the lives of my children. I don't think any of this has ever been easy or gotten easier. I think I have gotten tougher. I think pushing my physical body to limits I had never pushed before and not only doing it, but surviving it! I think watching my body get stronger has been amazing for my soul.

     This life is not easy. I am not going to ever understand why Sterling isn't here to grow up with his bubbas. I will never understand why such pain and suffering exist for some and not all or why it exists at all. But I can tuck Sterling safely in my heart and together he and I can accomplish things I never knew possible.

Sharing Sterling to save babies....

     I am always hopeful that by sharing our story, sharing Sterling's story, people will fall in love with him and be outraged that more research and more funding for that research isn't available. Sterling died from the #1 defect in the world! And yet most people don't know very much about it. Heck, I had two little boys with CHD's and I didn't know half of what I know now.

     My other two sons have issues with their electrical in their hearts. While this can be dangerous, theirs were caught and have been monitored closely. One even took medication for his entire first year of life to help him stay "healthy". I watched them grow and was assured their issues would not interfere with them growing up or their quality of life. I was actually given the impression that I shouldn't worry. That murmurs and certain issues weren't a big deal.

     That is why, when Sterling was born and was given a clean bill of health, I let my guard down. He had signs, subtle signs that something may be wrong. But those signs could also be seen as other more "normal" baby issues. He grew. He played. He laughed and loved. I didn't know that a baby could have defects in his heart and they could go undetected. I thought he would look sick. I thought he would give us clear signs that something was wrong. I was wrong, so very wrong.

     So when Sterling stopped breathing that day. When I was asked over and over again by police and medical staff, "what happened today? Would anyone want to hurt him?" I was left thinking it was my fault. Clearly, the doctors didn't know why my son stopped breathing so it had to be my fault! While we waited nearly eight months on his autopsy results, I blamed myself. What else could it be? Clearly, I missed something. When that call came and I heard the words "your son had multiple congenital heart defects that we believe stopped his heart that day which resulted in lack of oxygen to his brain which led to his brain death", I let out a moaning, deep cry much like I heard come from me when the doctor called his time of death.

     How in the world could such a chubby, happy and seemingly healthy baby boy be so sick? Research would lead me to story after story just like ours. And I started realizing just how deceptive CHD's are. How "good" our babies look. That leads to people not realizing just how deadly they can be. That also leads to people not wanting to know. I too wish I could go back to before I knew. But I cannot. And so I will continue to share. To hope that people will read the things I write and maybe become outraged that more isn't being done. More funding for research. Better testing.

     I write, I share our story so that no other parent has to hear from the coroner about their child's congenital heart defects. I always tell people that I don't know if we had known of Sterling's defects if he would still be here. But our family and Sterling, we deserved to know that we had a monster lurking. A monster waiting to take a piece of our family forever. We deserved to know so we could have fought. So I will share our story and keep sharing our story. And if anyone out there wants to share our story or use our story, please let me know. I feel like this is all I have left to do for Sterling, that this is his legacy. Education. Research. Better testing.

    

Mother's Day......

     Another day that is a huge reminder that a piece of my soul is not here the way I want him to be. I have four little boys who are growing up with a mom who is forever different. I fell asleep last night thinking about Sterling. Thinking about who he might be today. Praying for a visit in my dreams. I miss him every single day, but holidays? They can cut like a knife.

     I have said it before, when I held Sterling in my arms as he took his final breath and that doctor called his time of death, my heart shattered. It felt like he physically reached in and took a piece of my heart with him, shattering what was left. As time goes on and I do the work necessary to heal, my heart slowly heals. Kind of like a scab at first. Still painful but I can function. When a holiday comes along (a birthday, Christmas, Halloween, his birthday, Mother's Day, etc.) the scab is ripped.

     Sometimes its slow and I don't even realize its happening. Other times its a bit harder, more painful. When that happens its all I can do to just get through the day. I notice I am on edge, the boys are on edge. There are more tantrums, more crying (from all of us). It then takes a few days or weeks for the scab to come back.

     I am on my third of everything since Sterling died. I don't remember the firsts very well. The seconds are still a bit hazy. This year I am realizing that while I thought I was doing "well" before, I was in shock and merely going through the motions. I still am coming out of the shock. Which I know some people will just not understand. To those of you who have lost a child, I think you will get exactly what I am saying.

     I am so very grateful for my five children still living on this Earth with me. Even when they drive me a little crazy. Even when I have to be firm. Even when I want to momentarily run screaming from my home and go sit somewhere alone, just for a moment. I am always aware how fragile life is and how quickly it can all change and be lost. I am aware more then most.

     Yet, I miss Sterling. A part of me is forever missing from my arms. I will never get to watch him grow up. I will never get a handmade card or dandelions he plucked from the yard because "they are just so beautiful mommy! Just like you!" So no matter what joy life has in store for me. No matter how grateful I am for the five souls who call me Mom. One little soul is missing.

     Its enough to make me not want to get out of bed. But I do. Every single day I get up and I care for and love on my children. I just miss Sterling while doing it. There is a sadness that I am getting used to. A missing and longing that is becoming just a part of me. I am learning how joy and sorrow can coexist. Its ok. They can do that.

     My life is so different then I ever dreamed it would be. And that is ok. Sterling has taught me so much in death about life. We don't all get the miracle of life. I don't understand it. But I don't have to. God does. And I have to just trust that Sterling lived and died exactly how he was always supposed to. And so am I. We are all living just as we were always meant to. And that is enough. I have lived three Mother's Days without my littlest love. Those days may not have been what they used to be. But that is ok.

     To all my friends who are mothers. Mothers to children who are here, to ones who are not. Whether you got to hold and know your child or are grieving a baby you never got to hold. I want you to know that I am thinking of you all. My hope is that we can all find some joy along with the pain.

     And to my sweetest Sterling, Mommy loves you and misses you, Always and Forever......May you always remember that I am your Mommy and I would never willingly give you up....I know you are safe in the arms of Jesus...I know you don't feel the pain that we do in missing you...I am so grateful for that...I promise that I will never take a moment for granted with your bubbas and your sissy...I promise to raise awareness in your honor...I promise that you will always be loved...Until we meet again sweet boy...what a wonderful day that will be....

Our House....

     Our house is old. It needs work. A lot of work. Its a decent house though. I have brought all of my boys home to this house. It's small but we pack a lot of love and memories into it. But it overwhelms me most days.

     At this time of year in 2011 we began doing all the little repairs that were required for us to sell and move into a bigger home. Or if we couldn't do bigger we definitely wanted a better layout that was more contusive to raising five, very active little boys in. Everything was moving along when fall came. The cooler temps brought everyone inside, thus making home repairs a little harder. So I figured we would wait until the following Spring to continue.

     I think you all know by now that Sterling died that December. I was doing everything in my power just to survive and care for my four little boys. Anything else was too much. The house was neglected. When the fog of grief started really lifting that second year, I became overwhelmed at all that needed to be done! We have tried to get things started again but its hard for me to do repairs with four boys running around. My income has dwindled. And finding reliable, responsible workers who won't take advantage has been a challenge.

     But we are up for the challenge! Something has to be done! So I am beginning to ask for advice, for help, for any way that will help fix this house back up to be something we can be proud of again! I am getting used to the idea that it will take time. That I may have to break it into smaller items and do only a few at a time.

     I look at it like a metaphor for my grief. When I look too far ahead I am overwhelmed at the idea of living a lifetime without Sterling in my arms. It becomes so overwhelming I shut down and pull back from living again. Then nothing gets done. No healing, no living, no projects of remembrance. But when I take it a day or two at a time I can see just how much we have accomplished in the last two years!

     So, I've begun making calls. Finding people willing to help. Learning how to do things myself. Including the boys so it can get done, and maybe we can make a memory or two along the way. Life is hard. It just is. But if I break things up into more manageable pieces, I can do it! And in another few years look back and wonder what I was so worried about......

     If you are so inclined, please say a little prayer, send us some positive energy, whatever you can...it's hard to be grieving the loss of such an amazing little boy while also raising four amazing little boys while trying to also work and heal and fix a house that needs quite the tlc.....I am not the person who typically asks for help and usually just does whatever is needed, I always figure out a way. But I am overwhelmed at this task at the moment and could use all the encouragement I can get....

My thought on the tv show Resurrection....

     I was one of the few grieving moms, based off so many blogs and Facebook statuses I read, that was excited for the television series Resurrection to start. The previews of a little boy named Jacob coming home to his parents after thirty some years, still the little boy who left them. The haunting song playing, "I'm coming home, I'm coming home. Tell the world I'm coming home...." It would leave me teary every single time I heard or saw it. I couldn't wait to see it.

     I have had several dreams where I see Sterling out somewhere. He is still the thirteen month old that was taken from us. In every dream I risk my life trying to steal him back. I run with him. Then I wake up panicked and looking for him or crying because I know it was a dream but I would give anything for it to be real. I know I'm supposed to rejoice that he is in heaven and he no longer has to live in this world full of uncertainty and pain. I know he is at peace and he no longer feels pain. As a mom I do rejoice that he is safe and I'm sure happy. 

     But as a mom I also just want my baby back. I know its selfish. I know. I know! But I want him back in my arms. I want to be able to have him back as a thirteen month old so I can just pick up where we left off. I don't want to miss his first steps, his first sentence, his first day of preschool, his first haircut (if I ever would allow such a thing!). I understand many people may not get what I am thinking or wanting. Its ok with me. I don't always understand this grief of mine either.

     So I started watching this show Resurrection. The first episode with little Jacob left me a little teary. This family is living my dream. And I can watch it. It doesn't sink me back into some place horrible. To be quite honest I'm not sure I've left that place some days. For that hour of television I got to live vicariously through another family and it left me feeling no different then I do every other day.

     You see I already question why some people get miracles and we didn't. Why did my son's CHD's not get discovered in time to save him? Why didn't I see it sooner that day before he stopped breathing? Why didn't my CPR save my baby? Why didn't the ER doctors and the PICU doctors save him? Why my son? And then I also see so many other grieving families get their rainbow babies, their little miracles sent to them to help heal their hearts. Our family has been unsuccessful in that as well. So wondering why some people's loved ones would get to come back and not others....

     After this second episode I am beginning to see that its not so easy picking up where you left off with a dead loved one when so much time has passed. Thirty years is a long time. Parents age, childhood friends become adults, time goes on even when we don't want it to. It brings me right back to my feeling that even though I would give anything for our lives to have gone a different path. A path that would have a very much alive Sterling in it. I truly feel like this is always the way it supposed to happen. I don't like it. It hurts beyond anything I have ever experienced in my life. But yet I feel like its the way it was always meant to go.

     But don't get me wrong, even thirty years from now I would give anything to have a knock at my door and see my little chubby, smiley, giant brown eyed little thirteen month old Sterling staring back at me. I would love to hear him say "Mooommmm....." and to feel those chubby hands grab my face and pull me in for a slobbery, mouth wide open kiss.  Then to put our foreheads together and stare into each other's eyes like we always did. Followed by a bear hug and his little hands patting my back. I'm really banking on the fact that when I die I will get to experience that again.......

Trust

     I love my children, all six of them. I would do anything for them. I want the best for them. And yet they can push my buttons unlike any other. These little people that I love more than anything can drive me to the brink of insanity some days. Kids are fun like that.

     Because Sterling died my children and I have needed a little extra "life boost" as I like to call it. Everyone else probably would call it counseling. All the kids want to be the one to have a counseling session with mom, that is until its actually time to have a counseling session with mom. Our counselor asks that my boys play silly games with me, let me feed them, let mom be in control for a few minutes. My kids resist. And I wonder why?

     I'm scared to think about why they don't trust me. I'm scared to know the real reasons why. I worry so much that seeing me doing CPR on their baby brother while screaming "Oh my God my baby's dead!! Please!! Someone help me!!" may have left some scars. I worry that Mommy leaving for two days while friends took care of them may have left some scars. I worry that seeing their mommy, puffy faced from crying while holding their very swollen baby brother may have left some scars. I worry that having me come home, without their baby brother and in shock may have done some damage. I worry that my inability to connect with them for a while,  while I healed my soul , may have left them scared of letting me in again.

      I worry about so many things with my children. I want them to be ok. I need for them to be ok. And then I question that too. I mean, our baby died. They saw things that left me numb and in shock. We lost a very important little soul. We loved and continue to love him. Why do I worry about us being broken? Shouldn't I be more worried if we weren't?

     Yet I sit during these counseling sessions and as I try to coax my son out from behind the couch to come play a game with me, all I think about is why? Why can't he just play a game with me? Why can't he just let me be in control for twenty minutes? Will he ever trust me again? Will he ever stop trying to bargain with me when I need or want his participation? And can I stop seeing it as a personal insult and begin to truly understand what trauma has done to our family?

     Oh this life of ours. Its not at all what I dreamt it would ever be. I wish I could take all our pain, all our fears and just throw them out. Gone forever more. But I can't. Healing takes time. It also takes intention. It's hard, so very hard. But it's also so very worth it.

     "It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone."---Rose Kennedy

What working out has done for me.......

     Have I told you all how much working out has helped in my healing? I'm fairly certain I have. I started just walking on the treadmill. I was up to 3 or more miles a day. Then January came along and I had to wait in line for the machines! Ugh!! No thank you! So I found Zumba!! Oh how I love Zumba!! The weight quickly started coming off and I felt wonderful! Something about the movement and the music and all the wonderful women whom I now call friends. I felt so close to Sterling while getting my Zumba on!

     Then I added a personal trainer. I would jokingly, but not really joking, call her my Jillian Michaels. She really whipped me into shape! When I would say "I can't", she would literally show me just how much I can! I got stronger and my body began changing. I began to see my anxiety slowly go away. I could do more physically and mentally.

     Just recently I added in a Body Combat class. In case any of you may wonder, I have some anger over Sterling's death. Anger toward myself for not seeing how sick he was, for not being able to save him. Anger towards doctors who are smart and know a lot but they don't know everything. And they certainly couldn't save my son. Anger toward a system that allowed certain people way too many rights when they deserved none. Anger that I can't protect all of my children from this excruciating pain.

     So let me tell you what we do in body combat! We literally visualize beating the crap out of a punching bag or a person. In my case I get to close my eyes and beat the crap out of all that I listed above! My counselor had told me early on in my grief that I needed to find an outlet for my anger. She said I was typically not an angry person and I needed to get a baseball bat and go beat the crap out of a tree or a sturdy wall. She said I should yell all the things I was angry about while hitting the bat on the tree. In combat I am considerate of others, so I don't yell out loud. But let me tell you, with each punch, each jab, each upper cut and downward brawl, I am visualizing all of the above and just going at it hard!

      It's been very healing. Its been awesome! I love this class. I can safely release the anger. I can safely think about how pissed off I am that my son died. I can safely think about how much I would love to grab whatever I am angry with and just beat it. It sounds weird when I write it out, but oh let me tell you it is aiding in my healing.

      So much so that I find myself actually at peace more often then not. I find myself thinking of Sterling with a smile. The tears are still there, I suspect they always will be, but they are softer now. It took a lot of effort for me to get here. I'm sure it will ebb and flow. But for now, for right now, the working out the way I do has given me strength. It's helped me find some peace. It's given me a voice when I felt like I had none. I highly recommend that those with a grieving heart fit working out into their schedules, its far better then any pill I could take.

Why Us? Why so much?

     This life of mine, well, its not always fun. Its not easy either. If living with the death of Sterling was our only obstacle, that would be enough. But it isn't. I have six children. All adopted. Each with their own history. Each with their own story of loss. Each with their own obstacles. All of us learning to live with the death of our youngest family member. Life can be hard. But its so worth it.

     I would love to tell you each of their stories. But they are young and its their story to tell, not mine. I will tell you I have always longed to be a mom. Always. And I can tell you that I believe their little souls were always meant to be my children no matter what bodies they were in. I can also tell you I have had many children pass through my home, I didn't feel this way toward all of them. And one last thing, with each one of my children, when we met for the first time, it felt as if we had known each other forever. It was something I can't quite explain. It made me believe in a higher power.

     But believing and more importantly knowing this deep within my soul, doesn't take away their histories. Doesn't take away some of the trauma they experienced before I was their mom. It doesn't take away their feelings of abandonment. My love for my children doesn't take away their learning issues or Autism or PTSD. But how I wish it did!

     Why am I writing about this on a blog about finding Hope without Sterling? Because for me, I wish I could shield my children from it all. I wish they didn't have pasts filled with trauma and loss before they met me. I wish they didn't know death and know what its like to see your baby brother die. I wish my children were on an even playing field with their peers. I hate having to admit they are not. It hurts me as their mom. It hurts.

     But I refuse to let it break them. I refuse to let them see themselves as anything other then the amazing little souls I see when I look at them. I refuse to let Autism, PTSD and the death of Sterling make us feel less. We are a family built by God. We are children of the one true King. My faith may have been shaken but I still believe there is a higher power guiding us. I look into my children's faces and I know. We may not understand why but we know we are loved. And with Love and Hope and Faith, anything is possible.

      One last little note. When I met each of my children for the first time they seemed to know me. So much so that one doctor asked if I had been around the birth mother during pregnancy because the way my newborn preferred my voice and would turn to it above all others, its not something that typically happens unless they had been exposed to my voice in utero. When I told the doctor I had just met this baby for the first time today and had never met the mother, he was stunned. That repeated with all my babies. And the ones that were a bit older, well they seemed to "come alive" once placed in my arms. Some therapists were left in awe. I, however, would just reply "the angels must have told him about me. So he was waiting."

       I share this in no way to lessen the loss of their birth families. I just believe that this was always the way it was meant to happen. Much like Sterling's death, I don't understand it but I feel like its the way it was always meant to be. Believing this doesn't make me any less hurt, nor does it make me miss Sterling any less. In many ways its just me processing the pain, processing the loss. I can't change it, anymore then my kids can change their histories. We just have to choose Hope. And we learn to live each day, enjoy each moment, become better people. The human spirit is an amazing thing.

New Year 2014

      I started out 2013 with a goal. I was going to work out and continue to better myself both physically and mentally for myself, for my children and to honor Sterling. I started out strong. Then had an injury that sidelined me for a little while. But I came back. Different but yet the same. The irony of that didn't escape me.

      I can't say I didn't meet that goal of bettering myself. While I didn't lose the weight I had hoped I would, I also didn't gain and in fact did lose about half of my goal. My body changed though and I was able to go down a size. I would call all of that an achievement. I am physically stronger then I was last year at this time. I have made friends that I am so grateful for and strengthened friendships. I have let go of others and have done so, I believe, in a way that wasn't ugly. Which, I believe, strengthened my mental self.

      So while 2013 was all about me. Putting my needs first or at the very least, on the list of priorities. I believe 2014 will be all about my boys again. Not that they were ever not on my list and most often first. But I believe that in order to help my family I needed to put my "oxygen mask" on first. And I firmly believe I did that. Now its time to put the "masks" on my boys.

       In the very beginning I had asked for help with the boys. I had searched for grief counseling. Found one and she was great but even with a sliding fee scale it was still going to be about $150 a week! Not to mention between my work schedule and the boys school schedule, it was a lot to try to achieve. So I was given some books for me and for them. I was told that as long as I allowed them to talk freely about what happened and about their brother, they would be ok.

       We do talk often and openly about Sterling. About his life and his death. Nothing is off limits. But they still struggle. They became used to seeing me cry. And it hurt them. They realized that when we talk about Sterling, sometimes Mommy cries. And they became the ones who tried to comfort me. I would see them look at me whenever I would talk about him. They were looking for my tears. And so they began really acting out. I see this now. Not to be naughty but because Mommy would then have to stop and would have to deal with them. Not to mention the lack of understanding from their schools. And a pattern emerged. One that I hope will be broken this year.

       I am hopeful that I can help the boys. We have one great counselor and are adding a grief counselor whom the boys and I just love as well. I may even home school, or change schools for one or more of them who needs more positive interactions. I have lessened my daycare load. I have my workout routine set and am at a point where I can move things around there without losing what I've gained. (I believe working out is so beneficial to everyone but really for the grieving). 

       While 2013 had many moments where it may have seemed that our hope was lost, it never left us. Our family will continue to find ways to honor Sterling's memory. We will continue to learn to be the best we can be. I believe that is the biggest way to honor him. To truly live a life he would be proud of. To experience life not just for ourselves but for him as well. 2014 will be another year filled with hope.

      *I have no way of knowing who reads this blog. How you found me. What you think? But would love if you could leave a comment or let me know. Thank you again so much for reading. I know I am not always an organized writer and this blog was just a way to let friends and family know how I am feeling and to get the grief up and out of me. But I thank you all for reading, even when it takes you out of your comfort zone. *