An Unexpected Wave

The Reality of a Rainbow

Several times over the last year, I have thought about writing.  When I am on the computer and go to my Bookmarks, I see my blog page and I wonder if I will ever write again.  When did you choose to stop?  It seems to have brought me peace and the words flowed so easily, so why did I cease in letting it out?  Why did I begin to look at is as a chore or a task?  I guess, it's not as big of a deal as I am making it, as with many things.  I don't know why I choose to write today....

It is early afternoon and I am sitting home with my six year old, whose been home all week due to strep throat and a double ear infection.  I have been doing my best lately to keep up and prepare at the same time.  Today, I am running back and forth between laundry, cleaning, helping him finish homework and a project for school, and setting up my room for the new baby.

Before I started to write, I went back and read my previous posts from last year.  I was especially caught up in my first post, talking about how I wanted a "Rainbow Baby" and wondering if we were even ready.  I guess, when it comes down to it, God decides when you are "ready".  I remember when I found out I was pregnant.  Just after the 4th of July, I was feeling sick and ultimately ended up going into the Emergency Room.  I should have known, really I should have.  This is my fourth baby, and yet, every time, I think I'm just sick...ha!  The doctor came back in and told me I was pregnant and there was no control.  My hands started to tremble and tears started to fall.  To this day, I don't know if I was scared, nervous, excited, happy, or a combination of it all.  I had my husband sent up to join me, where I told him in person.  He asked why I was crying, "This is a good thing!" he said.  I went through the upcoming months feeling downright horrid, starting everyday over the toilet.  As my pregnancy carried on and various "side-effects" of pregnancy went away, new ones arrived.  Almost as if God was just finding ways to point out to me that this baby was different.  My entire pregnancy was different from all the other three.  Harder on my body and my mind.  To say it's taking it's toll would be an understatement.

As with all of my time since Madden passed though, I feel I handled it well.  The emotional end anyway.  As I read posts and feelings from other grieving Moms, no matter how far passed their baby's death they are, I feel like I don't compare.  Like I just haven't maintained such a strong element of grief and wondered why I'm doing so much "better".  I have realized lately that I'm not.  I remember that grief is a journey, on which we encounter most of the same emotions and feelings, but for different lengths of time and at different times during our journey.  For me, many emotions have hit harder this last few weeks.  I have gone from being pregnant, to realizing that we ARE having a baby.  The reality that a new baby will be in the crib, in my room, in our home has found my heart..  Though on the outside, I seem to have kept up my strength, on the inside thoughts have become such a whirlwind, it takes me well into an hour to fall asleep after I've become comfortable on my four pillows.  I feel so lost in some areas, even alone; yet so certain in others.  I feel like while we have maintained a strong home and marriage, my husband I have lost something huge.  I feel as though I've lost my best friend.  He has no idea how I feel about many of these things, nor I him.  I feel like while we happily handle our day-to-day with our kids, once they are in bed, we have become two strangers in their own worlds, sitting in the same room.  The there are the things I am certain of.  I am certain that "mistakes" or "risk-factors" will not be tolerated when our new baby comes home.  I am certain I will have five times the caution and emotion as a brand new mom.  We WILL follow the ABC's of Safe Sleep, I will NOT co-sleep during the night with my baby.  My new motto, "If question it, I won't do it."

I will continue to force myself to finish preparing my home for the new baby's arrival.  I know I am pushing myself sometimes, but it's all I know to do.  I am and have been in a lot of pain during this last month or so, but now that the "Reality of our Rainbow" has hit home, I have to be as prepared as possible.  I won't over-do it, but I will keep it up.  Because I know that once this baby is delivered, I cannot predict how I will feel or act, or what I will want to or not want to do.  I know that I will want to be comfortable in a clean home as I sort out the emotions of being a mom again, to a little baby.  A little baby once again in my room, in our home, in his crib.  And I only have 14 more days now, so yes, yes, I will finish cleaning and preparing.  I think that is all I can do right now.  And I think, I am going to try and rekindle the friendship, because I need my best friend right now, my husband, the only other person who can possibly know what I am feeling....I hope.

The Big Thaw

I recently came across a piece of writing, that inspired the following blog, posted on a Community Page for Child Loss.  It struck such a chord in my soul and ignited a flowing waterfall of words pouring from my finger tips.  Words that have been weighing so heavy on my heart as I anxiously awaited, stared down and surpassed the bittersweet 1st Angelversary of Madden on April 28th, 2013.
First, let me say, that my gut instincts as April was looming over me were indeed,  correct.  I could in no way, have ever planned how this depressive 'Anniversary' would play out.  After some insistence,  I agreed to let my Mom and Sister "kick us out" the eve of the dreading day.  We spent Saturday at an indoor  water park with our other two children (very difficult on my head), then proceeded to drop them back at our home with their "NeNe".  While we stayed the night at a hotel near our Church, they spent the night in our bedroom.  As the hours of 2 to 4 a.m. approached, my mom and sister were in the middle of the process of giving Michael and I a "new bedroom".  This included removing Madden's fully made, never messed crib and changing table, repainting the room as well as changing the bedding, curtains and decor.  At this same time, about 20 minutes away, I was lying in a hotel bed staring at a candle-lit photograph of my baby's face, while Mike slept next to me and the clock watched me from the corner of my right eye.  This, I was also instinctive about...wondering all through the month what I would be doing during those hours; all the while knowing the one thing I would be doing is what I doing during those hours last year....sleeping.
I credit Silent Loss - Child Loss Support for helping me to find the words to describe the way I am feeling as I enter this second realm of my journey as a grieving mother...  When I lost Madden, my world flipped upside down. Literally. For a while, I had to think about each breath I took, because I forgot how to do anything associated with life or how anything was associated to my life. This forgetfulness was my response to something that is so out of context with life...the death of a child.  Thus, I did not no how to live.  I never came to a point where I didn't want to live, I just didn't know how.  It triggered an automatic response for me to cling to every opportunity that crossed my path, in an exasperating and endless mission for my 'purpose'.  In fact, I didn't want to know how to live for a while following Madden's passing. One of the things that seemed to baffle me the most was how life continued on so easily for others without much, if any, disruption at all. Getting angry at the world in general for continuing to live, while I could not. I made myself numb.  I was frozen. It was less painful that way.
And, this is why many bereaved parents will say that the second year is harder than the first year of child loss. When we begin to thaw, our hearts can feel the raw pain all over again. And, THIS is when we most need the love, support and encouragement from friends. When this big thaw comes...so does the BIG PAIN. Please, friends, do not leave a bereaved parent, for the day they lost their child, they became a Grieving Parent, for the rest of their life.

The Cloud of April Looms Over Me, So I Fix My Eyes...

What is it, April?  Is it the word?  The automatic association to the name of a month?  or Spring?  To most, and once to me...April signified springtime, rain puddles, flowers, Easter, my Mom's birthday.  Now, what is it about that word that is just so...unsettling?  It is just now, as it was before.  April is a word, the name of a month or person, a symbol of a season.

And, I knew, like any other person does, that after March, comes April.  First, April Fool's Day :)  "Happy Fool's Day Mom!" Mason was so proud to rejoice all day long!  I was good.  I was positive.  I had been on top of this, rolling with the punches, staying one step ahead of grief on "our journey" together.  And you know what?  I was wrong, because it's like I was just standing there and BOOM!!!  Something was different.  All around me.  In my house, all around me.  Stronger in some places, at some times or when feeling a "trigger".  But, it hasn't gone away.  I feel like I am fighting an uninvited presence.  It is a life consuming monster.  I was not prepared for this.  Not this new strong, collected, walking by Faith Amanda.

After struggling this darkness for the beginning of the month, and feeling defeated at most times; this "presence" is not all around me, but within me.  I am carrying it everywhere I go.  I am.  But, understand...it is not a grudge, it is not guilt, it is not a certain feeling, it was not chosen by me, but chosen for me.  And though I keep trying, I cannot 'prepare' for the upcoming anniversary, I can breathe.  I can fix my eyes upon the Cross and give all my weights, worries, troubles, concerns, thoughts and stress over to the Lord.  I can give it all to my Savior.

"For I know the plans I have for you, " declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you.  Plans to give you a hope and a future."  Jeremiah 29:11

Triggers

Something happened to me today.  It happens quite often over time.  Sometimes once in a month or sometimes even more than once a day.  I guess there's no better word for it than 'triggers'.  These 'triggers' can be anything from a hair raising moment of deja vu to a startling skip of my heartbeat caused by my own shock of realization.  All the photographs I have of Madden, or any of the celebrations or memorials since his passing, are saved to a USB chip that I keep with me at all times.  Today, I went to use the photo machine, as I have several times before, because I was going to take a new photo and frame out to the grave with his new flowers for Easter/Spring until his headstone arrives.  To get to the point....my favorite photograph of Madden, the one of him just smiling that I used for all his memorial items was organized by date on the USB because it was off of  a cell phone.  The photo was taken on March 6, 2012.  All of a sudden, as I knelt at his grave staring at this photograph (of course, I hadn't shook the date from my head in the meantime), I closed my eyes and felt as if I was right there.  With him right in front of me in his little bouncy seat.  I was tossing his little flannel blanket at his face and pulling it off, hence the perfect smiles for mommy's pictures.

A month or so ago, well after I'd given any thought to anything of Madden's being 'around the house', I had pretty much cleaned out all of his things, albeit his crib and changing table in my bedroom.  I was reaching for ice cream bowls and apparently went to a stack we hadn't used in awhile, as I pulled out one of Madden's teething rings that somehow survived the clean out....

A few weeks ago, I came home to my room, to find the crucifix from Madden's funeral was chewed on by our boxer.  My 5 year old son had been in Madden's crib and taken it out, and not put it back or shut my door.  That was not a good night.....

I'm preparing to enroll my 5 year old in Kindergarten, my daughter will be in 2nd grade.  All I can think of while my body numbly goes through this process is....I was supposed to be home with Madden.  What am I going to do?  School?  My husband thinks it's an excuse.  Work?  I could never stay focused!  Where do I belong now?

The fact that, after a year....the smell seems to be finally fading off of his spit rag.  And that, at this time last year, I was spending my last weeks and days with my baby.  These are all just a few of the 'triggers' that strike me at any given moment.  In line at Walmart, sitting at a red light or doing the dishes.  I fight this battle everyday.  And let me tell you, and I promise you.  Stop telling your loved ones it'll get easier.  It's different.  Everyday is different, not easier.

The Cliche....It's almost been a year.

As the days inch closer to April 28th, 2013, I find my anxiety growing more and more each day.  What's going to happen?  How will I act?  And what I'm most afraid of...what will I do between the hours of 1 and 6:30 am?  Will I stare in silence at my bed?  Will I cry uncontrollably?  Will I pray?  Will I even be in my room, by my bed and his crib?  Will I run to the cemetery?  Will his headstone be there?  Will it be what I want?  Do I even want to see it?  Will it be the peace I have been waiting for?  Or, will it be the thing that triggers the finality of the fact that he's gone?  At 1 o'clock in the morning on April 28th, I will run over and over in my mind the last moments I saw my baby's face, when he was alive, in my arms...where he was supposed to be safe.  And then it will skip to 6:30 in the morning when I awoke to see the horror I already knew....he was already cold and blue.  The way his eyes slivered and his bottom lip was barely slivered open as well.  The way it felt to feel my own air come back on my cheek through his nose.  

Have I been over these thoughts?  At times.  Do they come back?  All the time.  Did I feel guilty?  Of course!  Did I realize it wasn't truly my fault?  Possibly.  Will I ever know for sure?  Probably not.  It's been almost a year.....

My family has made me proud.  We have accomplished some wonderful things since we lost Madden.  Those things have brought amazing light and love and the word and love of Christ into our Home.  Have I made myself proud?   Sometimes.  I accomplished some big things with MADD-SAAC.  Am I going to be able to do it again?  Will it still be as important to everyone else?  Do they think it was just a "phase" I needed to go through?  I know one thing.  My son...his life had a purpose!  He meant something!  I believe his purpose was to bring my family to Christ, back to Him.  It's not just listening to the music or going to Church or even tithing...all of which we do on a regular basis.  We go to family discipleship, women's and men's groups, take our Children to Awana...we are slowly making these amazing changes in our lives. And none of this would have happened without Madden...or the loss of Madden.

And...where am I?  Where am I now, and where should I be? Although we have made it this far, tougher things are ahead to truly follow in the way of our Father.  We have idolatries and bad habits.  We curse and smoke.  These are things that require self control, work, perseverance   Am I even capable of this right now, and if I don't keep moving forward in the right direction am I not allowing his death to be in vain?  If I can't find the courage to keep moving forward and give up the other idolatries in my life, am I failing my baby....that died for my family's redemption?

And what about having another baby?  I knew immediately after losing Madden I would want another baby. Now it seems like almost every single Mom in my SIDS group is having one, and though I feel jealous...I haven't felt like our marriage or finances have been strong enough since losing Madden to have another one.  But, I want another baby, I had a dream lat night that I was pregnant.  Am I able to drop my meds cold turkey again to have another baby?  What kind of emotional problems would I encounter during a pregnancy?  Is my body ready?

Is there where I'm supposed to be?  It's almost been a year.....and HE WAS MY BABY!  MY BABY!!