fear sucks almost as much as losing you

in bed, scared.  2 years ago you went to bed and didn't wake up.  we had no warning.  no real warning. 

you were 13

now liam is 13.  and he is always worried that something is wrong with him.  what if someday something actually is wrong and I miss it because he has always worried for no reason?  what if?  that scares me.  i'm scared of losing him.  i'm scared of losing all of my children.

I hate that you are gone Nolan.  it's not fair.  it's not right. 

I miss you.  I love you.

two years.

Christmas Eve

Two years ago, I had five living children in a house too small for their growing bodies.  There was rowdy wrestling, loud boys laughing, happiness. 

Christmas Eve was a lovely evening at mass then home to get ready for bed for what would be our final Christmas as a complete family.  We had no idea. 

How could we have known?

Tomorrow is Our Birthday

Fifteen years ago, at this very moment, I was being told that you were coming in a few short hours.  I was about to become a mother. 

 I miss you so much Nolan.

 Happy birthday. 

A Prayer

Please God, Sickness now frightens me.  And it's not a normal fear.  It's irrational, yet very rational because I know what the sickness can do.  But please, please, please.  I beg of you.  Let the sickness pass us by this year.  Help me to be better about keeping my kids away from germs.  Please.  And if we do have to get sick, please let it not kill us again. 
Please.

I Hate Being Sick

Viruses are now potential killers and it scares me.  I hate the fact that I am queasy and feel slightly achy.  I hate it.  I hate worrying that my kids might die.  That I might die.  That Patrick might die.  That my folks, my friends, my family might die. 

Why would you invent something like myocarditis God?  Why?

The Fear is Too Much

The fear is too much.  Sometimes I just cannot handle this.  I wonder how to go through the next however many years of my life with such fear coursing through my body all of the time.  You add the fear to the grief and i  think it is taking such a toll on my physically, mentally, spiritually.

Get Me Through This (Then What?)

The expectations of getting through the holidays when you are grieving can be a bit much.  You know everyone is wondering how you are doing.

 You know that you wonder how you are doing.  But you keep "doing"  

And there is this build up. You know it's not going to be "right," but you try to make it wonderful for everyone, especially the kids. 

And honestly, even for yourself.

It's bad enough that God took your son, should He take all of your happy moments too?

So you try to enjoy it because you always have. 

 Christmas is your favorite time of the year.  And it still is.  Yet it is the most difficult time as well.

But let's face it.  EVERYTHING is difficult now. 

Saint Patrick's Day parade:  difficult

Summer Vacation:  Difficult

Swimming at the pools:  Difficult.

Party with friends:  Difficult.

 So the fact that the holidays are "difficult," really doesn't make them any different than the rest of your life these days. 

Life as you knew it is gone.

You have now entered "the new normal."

 In some ways, the joy of the holidays provide so much other distractions that those moments of distraction are pretty good. 

That doesn't mean you don't cry. 

That doesn't mean, in fact, that you aren't crying more this month of December.  you are.

After you make it through this, the second holidays, the second death-iversary, then what?  Does it get easier?  Some folks say it does.  I'm not sure that "easy" will ever describe this. 

It's like a man who loses his leg.  He will always miss it.  He learns to live without it because he has no choice. 

But he will always walk with a limp. 

Christmas Music

Nolan loved the Michael Buble Christmas music.  I think his favorite song was Michael Buble's version of I'm Dreaming of White Christmas.  I can hear Nolan singing along. 

Nolan always had such a good spirit. 

The holidays were so wonderful with him. for him.  He was anxious to start listening to the Christmas music, just like me.  He loved to buy gifts for everyone.  He loved to spend the holidays with our family. 

Last year, on Christmas day we all went to the cemetery together.  It felt awkward to me because no one knew what to say or do.  And my husband tends to keep his grief and sorrow to himself. 

 

This year, I would like to take my portable ipod dock and play Michael Buble's song for Nolan.

Sharing Too Much or Saying Too Much

I have been sharing too much lately. Sharing more of my sorrow than I really should.  Even sharing more of my opinions about other stuff.  I'm letting my exhaustion and bitterness rule my mouth (and fingers). 

Exhaustion

Grief is so tiring.  Today is no different.  I'm tired. 

Of course, I drank too much wine which is good until it isn't. 

Then I became too tired to do all that I needed to finish tonight. 

I'm ready for peace and quiet. 

I feel bad when I am craving peace and quiet.  I love the loudness of my kids.  If only my Nolan were here to add to the loudness.

How can he be gone???

Sandy Hook and the Death of My Son

I wrote this post on my other blog today as I thought about the day of the Sandy Hook shooting.  It surprisingly vivid to me, the details of that day.

http://www.bubblews.com/news/9669526-sandy-hook-shooting-and-the-death-of-my-son

Perhaps it is coincidence.  I don't know.  All I know is that children shouldn't freaking die.  All I know is that life is F...ing unfair. 

Details of Your Last Day on Earth

You played airsoft guns with this neighborhood kid named Jacob that I disliked.  (not to be confused with the neighbor friend named Jake whom I do like.)

 I remember yelling at you that you knew I didn't want you playing with him, but you wanted to play airsoft. 

I grounded Liam that day for some reason from playing outside. 

I regret that because that's the last day on earth he and you could have played together like you had for the previous eleven years.

So instead you spent time with that other kid. 

 I felt like crap that day and actually took a really long nap which is unusual.  I NEVER EVER NAP!!!  Ella cooperated and slept with me.  I was in bed for probably four hours that afternoon.

I regret that.

Your last day on earth with me and I slept.  And when I woke, I was grumpy.

 For lunch we had taco bell and you were so grateful.

For dinner, we had leftover potato soup.  Although you often liked potato soup, this wasn't my best.  You weren't thrilled (no one was, not even me). 

You used the restroom around dinner time and it was a number two and was the most foul smelling number two ever.  I remember saying something to you about it.  I remember wondering if that was a sign something was wrong.  (after the fact)  Being that it was your heart, I doubt it, but who knows.

You told me to look at your teeth because they looked whiter.  I paid very little attention.  I hate that.

Your dad worked a long, long day.  He was barely home with you on your last day.  I am sure he regrets that too. 

Ella behaved horribly at mass that day.  Horribly.

We watched the Avengers. 

I was in the middle of reading Lord of the Rings for about the fifth time.  I haven't read it since. 

You prayed with your dad before going to bed. 

Ciara, Liam, and Logan all slept in the living room.

My house was a mess. 

I replay that day often.  My last day with you.  It was actually kind of a crummy day.  I didn't know.  How could I have known?  I often wonder what if you had collapsed that day when we were all awake. 

What if?

Life is Not Fair this Christmas

I love the holidays.  I still do.  Even after THIS.  I still love this time of year. 

But I'm sad.

Christmas music has always made me cry because of it's emotional sounds and words.  Now I can't make it through the first line of some songs without tears. 

Christmas shopping has always been a pleasure for me.  I love to splurge on my kids this time of year.  Even before having m own children, I looked forward to spoiling my nieces and nephew. 

Now, as I walk the aisle of my favorite stores it will hit me out of nowhere that I should be buying gifts for Nolan. 

Today has been a rough day with many bouts of crying and shouting at God. 

This will never, ever, ever seem fair. 

Viral Myocarditis Brings Fear

Two years ago, I had never heard the words "Viral Myocarditis."

 What I would give to go back to that time before I knew about it.  What I would give to go back to a time where I didn't know how it can ruin lives.  What I would give. 

Myocarditis killed my son. 

Myocarditis is an inflammation of the heart that can be caused by numerous things, but the most common is a virus. 

Is it some bizarre unusual or rare virus?

NO.

Sadly, it is not. 

Any virus that strikes any person can decide to go haywire and attack the human heart.  And without warning, your child can die in their sleep. 

When this happened, the doctor told me that it is just so rare.  So rare. 

Yet, I joined a group on Facebook and I see many, many people who have experienced the same thing as I.  If their child or loved one didn't die in their sleep, they collapsed in front of them, never to wake. 

Some survive. 

Some are conscientious of their symptoms and seek medical help in time. 

The problem is the vagueness of the symptoms. 

There can be chest pains, of course, but sometimes there are not.  There can stomach aches, flu symptoms, headaches, fatigue.  The heart rate will most likely be elevated. 

But guess what?  So many other viruses have those symptoms that it is often missed! 

So now I live in fear. 

 

I fear for my other children, my husband, myself.  I am so scared of contracting any virus.  so scared. 

 

I can't seem to become one of those people who remember to use the hand sanitizer constantly, but that is what I want!!!  I don't want my children to touch anything. 

 

Of course, I can't stop that.  We are social creatures who interact with others on a daily basis. 

 

If we don't, my husband does. 

 

I pray and pray and pray that God will let all the viruses skip us this year. 

 

Because I am so freaking scared.

 

 

I Was a Zombie Last December

The overwhelming power of the grief was debilitating last fall.  I felt on the verge of a nervous breakdown.  Thus I felt compelled to seek medical help. 

Due to constant anxiety attacks and an inability to function, I started taking a daily prescription drug for anxiety and depression.  My brain is foggy at the moment, but I think it was Zoloft. 

As it set in, I noticed the anxiety begin to subside. 

However, so did the emotion.

I am an emotional person.  I like to cry.  I know that sounds odd, but I do.  It feels like a release.  I love a good sentimental movie, song, or book that brings the hot, salty tears to my eyes. 

As the medicine flowed through my system, I felt incapable of crying.

By December, I was completely ON the meds.  As I reached first after first after first, I felt sadness.  Yet the sadness merely simmered beneath the surface.  The tears just wouldn't come out. 

I felt like a zombie. 

I didn't like it. 

I don't remember the date, but sometime after the holidays I began to ease off the daily meds by cutting the dose in half.  At some point, I was done completely. 

By this point, I was exercising again and keeping the anxiety SOMEWHAT at bay with that. 

I cannot stand the anxiety that makes me feel incapable of functioning, but I also could not stand feeling like a zombie. 

So here we are in December of 2014 and I am hitting second after second after second.  (along with the occasional first as well).  And there are tears. 

And I suppose that there should be tears. 

If this has to be my reality, which I wish to God it wasn't, but if it is, then there must be tears.

Do You Ever Feel Like the Death of the Party?

I used to be the life of the party.  Yes, me.  Happy go lucky Jill.  Party girl Jill.  Crazy Jill.  If you asked my old friends about me they would probably say that I was smart and crazy.  Not a bad combination.

Of course, life has a way of happening to change things. 

Maturity sits in for one thing.

Then life throws curveballs at you like financial problems and other stress.

Then you fall victim to the world's worst blow:  you lose your child.  Your thirteen year old son dies unexpectedly in his sleep from an unknown virus/condition in his heart. 

Blow doesn't quite do it justice.

Life deals you the most catastrophic, traumatic, sorrowful, unfair blow.

From that point on, you are no longer you. 

You are no longer the life of the party.  In fact, you often feel like the death of the party.  Other people are having normal conversations about normal stuff.  Other people haven't lost a child.  You know that they all pity you.  You want their pity at times.  At other times you don't. 

You are now carrying this heavy burden.  You now have a constant state of sadness and pain that is just THERE. 

http://www.bubblews.com/news/9631090-the-girl-i-once-was

Photo credit:  my own

I'm Tired

Sometimes I just feel so tired.  

I'm tired of never being able to just wallow in my grief. 

I always have to be on duty for my kids. 

I can never just stay in bed all day even though I want to. 

I always have to take the kids places, nearly every day.  There's no time to just be sad. 

Don't get me wrong, I am always sad. 

I just never get to just BE. 

I'm grateful that I have my other children, please do not think otherwise.  I'm so grateful.  I know they are the only reason I am surviving.   I'm so thankful that they are here for me to take to activities one, two, three, and four. 

However, grief is exhausting. 

exhausting

sometimes I just want to call in sick, but I can't.  i'm a mom.

The Gripping Fear in the Back of my Mind

 The human body is a complicated thing.  And it's a scary thing because something can seem so harmless yet still kill you. 

 Or there are those things that can be SO many things:  chest pains can be stress, heartburn, imagined, or something fatal.  Tummy aches can be just about anything. 

 I've always been a hypochondriac, so I never wanted my children to worry as much as I do.  When they would tell me things were bugging them, i'd worry, but I would tell them it was nothing.  With four children with asthma, we were often at the doctor (were/are).  If their chest hurt, it usually was an asthma thing.  Chest is such a big area.  Is it chest?  is it heart?  is it lungs? 

After Nolan's death due to a heart condition called Viral Myocarditis, the other four children had complete, thorough check-ups.  We took them to heart specialists.  Two of them wore monitors.  One in particular has said off and on since Nolan's death that his heart hurts.  Another says EVERY SINGLE NIGHT, "do you think my heart is going to be ok?" 

We have had them checked.  Everything looked fine.

The problem is that something like viral myocarditis isn't a lifelong condition.  It can come on from a virus, suddenly, and you can be dead in a week with ZERO warning.  Or the warnings are so vague that they could be the flu, asthma, anything. 

So I am filled with fear CONSTANT FEAR that it's going to happen to another one of my children.

My second son just told me his chest is hurting and it has been.  He is the one who seems to think something is wrong constantly.  I am sure it's nothing, but then again.... I could be wrong.  And my mistakes can be fatal.

This sucks.

Anxiety Can Really Ruin a Day

I just wrote a post on my other page about how much anxiety I have suffered today.  You can read the lovely details here:  http://www.bubblews.com/news/9605474-anxiety-rules-the-day

It just got me thinking about how anxiety and panic attacks can really ruin someone's day, week, month, year, life!  Last year at this time, I was suffering immense ongoing attacks.  I believe hitting all the first holidays without my son was THE major factor in it.  Honestly, it was debilitating.  I felt like I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

For awhile, I was taking some daily anxiety meds to help.  Eventually, I grew tired of feeling like a zombie.  So I stopped.  I started exercising more and it helped.  Then I turned to Yoga which helped even more.

I have been doing yoga for about three months now.  Until our vehicle situation (which is the source of some of my anxiety), I was being really good about going 4-5 times a week for yoga, plus another day or two for just exercise.  Lately, I have been lucky if I can go once a week. 

Then today came the anxiety attacks.

Tomorrow, thankfully, I can do yoga for sure.  My husband is off work.  Friday, I think if we do not have our vehicle back, I will take him to work so that I can make sure I can go again.  I think it helps me.  I'm certain it helps me. 

I hate it when I feel like I have today.  And to think, last year, I probably suffered like this for several months.  I'm not going to reach that point again. 

Heartbroken

Celebrating birthdays together, as a family. 

 We will never be complete, ever again. 

 This crack in the foundation of our family is irreparable. 

 How do you mend a broken heart?

 You can mend one of those romantic heartbreaks. 

 The heartbreak from losing your child is total destruction of your soul, your spirit.

 The heartbreak from losing your child is brutally painful.

 The immense hole in your life cannot be filled and will forever remain empty.

 There is a hazy cover of sorrow that shadows you, always.

 The days of being happy go lucky are no more.

 The days of belief and understanding of the world are gone.

 There is nothing you can do to fix it. 

Sometimes I Don't Want it to get Easier

 Sometimes I think it is wrong to feel ok.  Sometimes I think it is wrong to smile.

Saying it is better is like saying it is ok that Nolan is gone. 

 Getting used to it is like getting used to living without a heart, a brain, lungs, limbs, and more. 

 Life without my son is never going to be ok.  Never.  Yet I must live on.  I must keep on.

 When I see his beautiful smile, his face lit up, his zest for life in photos, it is a reminder of what is lost.

 I'm grateful for my photographs of him, but they just emphasize the horror of our loss.

 He should be here.  We should not be here without him.  He should be here.

 Yes, two years later and I am still a broken record.  I still have a broken heart. 

 Not all broken hearts mend. 

 The broken heart of a bereaved mother is broken forever. 

 So it shouldn't be better and it really can't be.