my journey through the loss of my first son and the life of my second

Monday, February 15, 2010

how should I be?

My son died. Six weeks ago tomorrow. I hate Tuesday's. For 21 weeks I was counting down until he came, now I count the days since I held him. Here is the thing. I'm not okay. I don't know why EVERY one asks, "How are you?" I'm not okay. I'm not good. But, I'm surviving. I just don't understand that question anymore. Why do people even ask it? Do you really want to know how I am or do you want me to just be okay. I used to always say "fantastic." But, now I say, "Okay." But, sometimes I say "awful" and people just stare at me like I'm crazy. I don't think they really want to know. But, again I say, I'm surviving. I will make it to the other side of this. I am strong enough to survive this. I know that God is holding me. I will make it.

I have changed in these six weeks. I have become a different person. I have become a mom. The title I wanted more than anything else in the world is now mine...and he is in heaven instead of here in my arms. Last night when I feel asleep I was thinking about what it would be like to be holding him as I fell asleep. I will never know. I snore so at night I wait until Ken falls asleep and then I fall asleep. It makes it easier for Ken to sleep. Last night while I was waiting for the even sound of Ken sleeping to come I thought about what it would be like to hear both of my boys soundly sleeping. I thought what an amazing feeling it would be to have both the men in my life in one room sleeping soundly while I lay and listened. I will never get that. So, when you ask "How are you" My son sleeps in heaven and not in my arms...how should I be?

When I was a senior in high school I remember having to write a paper about where I would like to be when I was 30. Oh the hopes and dreams of an 18 year old. I can't for the life of me remember what I wrote. I wish I had that paper. But, I know this would not be the path I would have chosen. This would not be the life I picked for myself. But, I am here. I am living it. I will survive it.

My son died. I do want to talk about him. I do want people to ask me about him. I want him to mean something. I want him to be remembered. I want to be his mommy. But, I'm not okay.

1 comments:

Terra said...

You have opened my eyes. Thank you! Sometimes we don't realize what we are truly asking!

I do know that you are continually in my prayers and my heart just aches for you!

Love you girl!

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