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

Monday, March 21, 2011

the way it was

I have so many friends online that I have come to know because they share the same heartache and pain that I do. Hundreds of them. Sad. It is so very sad that so many have lost a precious child. Yesterday I was chatting with one and couldn't remember how we "met." We went back to reread emails to see and tonight I went back and started reading all the ones sent in the days and weeks after Trent's birth and death. I didn't even remember most of them. I was in such a state of shock. There were dozens that I never even responded too. It seems strange now over a year later to send them a response. But, it was heartwarming to re-read the words that people took the time to write.

I remember the night they took Trent's body out of my hospital room I just laid in the hospital bed and read each and every message left for me on my Facebook wall, email, and text messages to Ken. We cried and cried together. The words were so heart felt and so moving. We heard from people we had not spoken to in years, close friends, family, strangers who were praying for us. I remember that time together being so special. I remember thinking our son mattered. It was after I read all those sweet comments that I went to hold his little body one more time. I couldn't bear the thought of living the rest of my life without him. And, yet here i am doing just that.

It is hard to imagine the pain I felt in those days. It is hard to put it back into words. When I passed the one year mark I went back and re-read all my blog entries. I felt sorry for the girl I was. I couldn't see what was to come. I couldn't process that good truly would be in our life again. The emptiness that I felt for weeks and even months was beyond what I could have even imagined.

I remember so often back then feeling like I was standing all alone while the rest of the world moved forward. I felt like I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs to make everything stop. I wanted to curl up in my bed and never come out. I wanted to die. Last night as I was falling asleep I thought about our trip back home. We left the hospital two days after Trent died. We stayed with my sister in Daytona for a few days before coming back to Texas. I was dreading the airport. The airport was where it had all began. Ken and I arrived and I was almost in a comatose state. I felt like I couldn't put one foot in front of the other. When I think back on it now I think how strong my husband was to keep pushing me forward. He held my hand the whole time, dragging me through the airport. MCO is a very busy airport. I don't remember checking in, or checking our bags...the first thing I remember from that day was standing in line for security. There were children everywhere. Mothers screaming at their kids, dad's mad with their kids, kids crying. I looked around and thought "my son's ashes are in my husband's coat pocket." How could it be? How could these people not know?? How could they just still be living??? We had to have special papers to carry his ashes through security. We had to ship the urn home seperately. Ken carried the ashes all day in his jacket pocket. I wouldn't let him put them in the carry on. I remember my breasts were engorged with milk. I remember my whole body ached from the delivery just days before. I remember I had his memory box in my carry on...his foot prints, flowers from his funeral, the clothes he wore, his hospital bracelet...and the most broken heart. I remember Ken got me breakfast and I didn't eat it. I just held it in my hand. I just watched as the world passed me by as I sat with nothing left. I remember I got up to go to the bathroom and went to touch my belly...it had become habit while pregnant to rub...and I jerked my hand away knowing my womb was now empty. I went into the bathroom and cried. I remember boarding the plane. I remember when they called for families with small children...does a family with their son's ashes count I wondered? I don't remember much more. When we finally arrived home I was done. I wanted it to have all been a bad dream. I unpacked the urn and placed his ashes on my night stand. I cry now just thinking about how hard that was. How did we go from a healthy, happy baby to just his ashes?

The weeks and months that passed were hard. The road was so long. There were many moments when it would have been easier to give up then to press on. I don't understand how I am where I am today...able to smile, laugh with my husband, go to baby showers, hold other babies, rejoice for the life inside of me. These are not things I thought would ever come. As I re-read the sweet words people sent me over a year ago I know a huge reason I am here is because of the love and support people showed us. I think the part that still hurts the most is that he will never be with us again in the physical. I have his pictures, foot prints, ashes...but, I will never have him with me again.

1 comments:

michelle hs said...

i know what you mean. i'm not the same person i was before losing xavier and i'm not the same person i was just after losing xavier, but i hope i am a better person for it all!

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