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

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

no happy endings

Here I sit, another Tuesday upon me.

Tuesday...the day he lived and died.

Tuesday...the day my life fell apart.

Tuesday...the day my dreams were shattered.

Tuesday...the day my heart was broken in such a way that it can never be whole again.

I will never be complete again. I will never be "me" again. I will always bear the mark of a mom whose baby is in heaven. Oh how my heart aches for him. My soul longs to hold know kiss him. It just isn't fair. In my world there are no happy endings. My life isn't a fairy tale. It will end with the same pain that I have now. Even if we have more kids...Trent will always be gone.

I didn't have the best childhood ever. I have an older brother who hates me. He has hated me from the moment I came into the world. When I was an infant he tried to suffacate me with a pillow, as a toddler he put me in a spining chair to see if he could crack my head open, as a young child he slammed doors on my fingers and made me lay in front of them to see if I would get a black eye. He locked me in closets, he choked me, he made the top bunk fall on me, he broke my finger...the list of physical abuse could go on and on. My parents tried to stop it...but, he was such a good liar... The physical part really didn't hurt as much as the emotional abuse he gave me. For as long as I can remember my brother has said hateful, awful things to me. He always told me my brain didn't work like others, that I didn't belong in this world. He told me almost daily that I had no reason to be alive. He would tell me that no one would ever love me because of what I was. He beat me with his words. After years and years of this you start to believe it. I really thought I was worth nothing. I truly thought I should not be on this earth. He once told me that I was like a weed in the family and I should be picked and thrown away. These things have left deep, deep scars. I try every single day to please people...just to know I mean something.

In the weeks after Trent was born and died his words haunted me. Maybe he was right. Maybe the world would have been better without me. If I was never born...this pain would not be here. If I had listened to him all the times he told me I should be put in a mental hospital maybe my family wouldn't feel the pain of losing Trent. I can still hear him saying these things. I can still feel the hurt in my heart. I can still feel myself falling apart because of it.

But, God put me here. He has a reason for me. He created me for something special.

When I was 18 I meet a guy named Jason. We became good friends. He became my spiritual advisor. I had grown up in church but never really chased Christ until I meetn Jason. He poured his life into mine. He gave me hope that I did mean something. He prayed with me, for me, over me. He helped me see meaning in the Word. One night he walked over to my apartment and asked if we could take a walk. We went and sat on the playground and talked and talked. He told me that night that he had been walking around our apartment complex with me on his mind and heart. He told me that God had been telling him to come and talk to me. He said, "God has called you to something special." At the very moment he said those words a bug bite me (I even have a scar from it) I remember feeling alive for the first time ever. Here is this person who has walked for hours with me on his heart. Here is God picking me out for something. I didn't know at the time what that was...but, I am trying to figure it out.

I was shopping last week and the clerk asked if we had kids. I told her we had one son in heaven. After many questions and answers about the whole thing she walked around the counter, with tears in her eyes, and huged me. She said, "God picked you for this...He knew you would share Him with the world." I cried all the way home.

I am here for a reason. God did make me for something special. I am wanted. I am not crazy. I fight those demons from my brother every single day...and one day I hope they are gone forever.

I was chosen to be Trent's mommy. As hard as it might be...I will continue to praise my God through it hopes that someone else knows He cares.


Anonymous said...

I have the same feelings about Fridays now.

And don't let one awful person let you think you're not the wonderful person you are. What's more likely: that 1 person is right or that everyone who thinks you're wonderful is right? You don't know me, but I think you're great. People you respect think you're great. You're husband, who you love and respect thinks's you're great. To me, it sounds like we win and you're MAREVELOUS!

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