Showing posts with label capture your grief. Show all posts
Showing posts with label capture your grief. Show all posts

Monday, December 7, 2015

Capture Your Grief Days 1-6

An old post, but reposting because it weirdly won't show up on Blogger.

Dear Conner and Ben,

I know it seems like I have been too busy for you. But really, you are always on my mind. I can feel you in my heart. Sometimes I swear that it is you boys that your sister is laughing at, as she randomly looks and giggles at empty space. I still look around the nursery and think of what it would be like with two little boys running around. I can practically see you climbing up the stairs to get into my lap for bedtime stories.

Life has been crazy. Your dad is still out from work, injured. We sold our home. We'll be living with your uncle P until we find a new place. I haven't even started packing yet, because I am trying to finish up my graduate thesis. Your sister is crawling everywhere and is constantly dirty. Work has been hectic, since your dad can't go out on the construction jobs. We rely heavily on our crew to get through the jobs without him. Your grandma might be sick again. She's been seeing her oncologist again. And, because I am absolutely nuts, I'm trying to wean your sister so that I can do another FET. I just read this paragraph to myself and I instantly got tired.

But you already know all of this, because you are everywhere we are. I have no doubt that we have two little boys looking out for us, making sure that whatever obstacle comes into our lives, we will be okay.

It's Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. I almost forgot, in the midst of everything that has been happening. I feel guilty. I feel like a bad mom. But I promise, even though things like this might slip my mind, you never do. I still search for you in everything, and wish that you were here. No doubt, I would have a harder time keeping the house clean with three mobile children, but this house would feel more like home.

Love you to the moon and back,
Mom

Day 1 – SUNRISE 

Not quite the sunrise, but we were never early risers, were we boys? This was taken when we went to Bermuda, the month that you were supposed to be born, right before my first Mother's Day. We took this trip to escape the week you were due. But the truth is, we cannot escape this loss. You will always be on my mind every morning when I wake up. 

Day 2 – INTENTION 

Intentions. I have so many of them. But I think first and foremost, I intent to raise Jordan to know and love her big brothers. I understand the weight that this responsibility holds. It will not be easy. For awhile, she will not understand the significance of her brothers. She will face uncomfortable situations when people ask her if she has any siblings. She will have to face some of the choices I do now - to share, or not to share? But I want her to grow up knowing that she is always being watched over, and that her brothers make our family complete.

Day 3 –IN HONOUR 


Conner and Ben. Words cannot do justice for the love I hold for you both. You have changed our lives for the better. For the best. That seems so weird to say, because the best would really be if you were still here with us. But your love and light stays with us and reminds us that even in the darkest of times, beauty comes out of it.

Day 4 – DARK + LIGHT 


I frantically ran out to take this picture, pregnant with Jordan, to catch the supermoon in honor of my boys. The moon will always remind me that of my two sons, and that when there is dark, light always comes out of it. Conner and Ben's death will always be the most traumatic thing to ever happen to me, but their birth will always be the best. With their birth, they brought endless love. With their death, endless sadness. But there is beauty in the darkness, and as I've always said - their legacy will be love.


Day 5 – EMPATHY 
From last year's Walk to Remember

Not many people understood the loss that we endured when Conner and Ben died. Hardly anyone. And after a few weeks, people stopped asking us how we were doing. They stopped calling. And pretty soon, we weren't allowed to have feeling on this loss of ours anymore. A select few still understand how sensitive milestones are. The best thing someone has ever said to me was from my sister in law, when she texted me just days after Conner and Ben died. All she said to me was that she didn't know what to say, but she was there to listen when I was ready to talk. That was all I wanted to hear from someone. I was tired of people telling me it would be okay, and that God took them for a reason (seriously, that was the worst). I just wanted someone to recognize that there was simply nothing to say. Sometimes just listening is the best thing you can do. 


Day 6 – BOOKS 

My very best friends were books after Conner and Benjamin passed away. I immersed myself in other people's stories and words. They made me feel less alone, less like an anomaly. You can find some of my favorites here.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

Infant Loss Awareness Month, Healing, and Moving



Ah, my neglected blog.

A few days ago, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month began. Like last year, I fully intend to immerse myself in Carly Marie's Capture Your Grief. Also like last year, instead of posting every day I will probably post every few days with multiple subjects. I am so thankful for this project, as it brings me back to this space to write and reflect about my boys. I am desperate for this time to write about them, as I feel as though I am moving so far from them.

Forgive me, though, as these posts will probably come late. I am frantically catching up with work, trying to finish my master's degree this month, and running after a very mobile Jordan. And I am doing this all while packing up our house.

We got a full price offer on our house. We jumped on it, of course. Our lawyer signed papers for us while we were out of the country. We close in four weeks.

I am so many conflicting emotions about this. We moved into our current home because Tim had residency requirements when we got his new job at the FD. We had to live in this city for 5 years, and we pretty much came kicking and screaming. We had just built our first home along the river, and a month after moving in Tim got the call from the FD with the job offer. He had to take it. So, as we were still unpacking, we put our brand-new house up for sale. We spent almost two years building it and only lived in it for 10 months.

So ever since we moved into our current home, I've been dreaming of leaving it. And now we are. We flew back home from vacation today, I walked into our home, and an overwhelming feeling of sadness came over me. While this was our second house, this was really where we built our lives together. Our first home saw our engagement, us bringing home our puppy, and then saw us leave. Our second home, the one we are in now, has seen so much more. It was our home when we got married. We had three kids in this house. It was where I planned not one, but two nurseries. It was the only home Conner and Ben (sort of) lived in. It was where family and friends brought food, hugs, and love when Conner and Ben died. We brought Jordan home here. We had Christmases here. Birthdays. Thanksgivings. I started my blog here. Four years here, and endless amounts of love has been shared in these walls.

We haven't found a new home yet. Well, that's not true. We did, and lost it to another offer. That's a long story... I'm really too heartbroken to get into it. But I know our forever home is waiting for us. I just hope we find it soon.

Moving on. Moving forward. Moving out.