I wish I had Faith

Faith would help.

Not only is my faith in shambles, I am cynical.

I want to believe.  I need to believe.  But I don't think I believe in anything anymore.

Pondering Grief

Originally written Jan 20, 2014

As I sit in my bed in the wee hours of the morning, I'm thinking how I have spent nearly every night for the last 384 nights like this, wide awake.

Awake and heavy-eyed, I am pondering grief. Grief affects every person in a manner unique to themselves. My husband and I have grieved very differently from one another since losing our son a year ago.

He's very private; I'm very public.
He doesn't want to cry in front of the kids; I have cried many, many times in front of the kids.
He doesn't talk about his feelings with his friends; I want to talk about my feelings with my friends.
He feels the need to go to the cemetery often; I feel like I should go to the cemetery, but I don't really want to go.
He has turned to God because our son's death makes no sense; I have turned away from God because our son's death makes no sense.
He trusts God; I fear that I can no longer trust in anything.

We both miss him so much that it hurts. We have both felt like running away since Nolan's death. We both have aged probably five or ten years in the last year. We both have shed innumerable tears. We will both love our son until the end of time.

With You, A Poem

This was originally posted on Bubblews in September of 2014.

If only I could be with you
I'd listen to you talk
I'd watch the way your eyes light up
I'd watch the way you walk

If only I could be with you
I'd listen to you play
Your fingers up and down the keys
Music speaks what you wish to say

If only I could be with you
I'd watch the way you move
Fancy footwork on the soccer field
You finally finding your groove

If only I could be with you
I'd watch the way you draw
I would soak in every picture
As I imagined what you saw

If only I could be with you
I'd feel the way you touch
I'd cherish every hug and kiss
I would love you so very much

677 Days, A Poem

This was originally posted on Bubblews November 2014. 

For nearly two years, I have risen from my bed
With such miserable thoughts inside my head
I have hoped without hope that it was just a dream
I have hoped without hope that life wasn't as it seemed

For nearly two years, life has seemed off-kilter
There's a knife in my spirit that hurts and bewilders
I have cried tears of anger, bitterness, and sorrow
I have cried knowing I won't see you tomorrow

For nearly two years, I have tried to distract
Wine, coffee, and movies haven't hidden the horrid fact
I have felt dead among the living
I have been false with the smiles I'm giving

For nearly two years, I have struggled to breathe
While inside my soul's agony seethes
I have despaired over fate's decision
I have looked at Faith with complete derision

For nearly two years, our five are now four
Oh how I wish for that one child more
I have watched my others with bittersweet joy
I have missed my sweet, precious boy

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. 

Pictures of You

I'm thankful for photographs of your beautiful face.  How I wish I had more.   There are days when I am looking through old pictures and I notice one with you in the background.  I get to see an expression on your face that I haven't seen in nearly two years. 

 Even the blurry photos of you are meaningful to me.  I have on on this post that is blurred, but it is you in the middle of being silly.  I look at it and want to see you act silly again. 

I do not know how anyone could ever think that a mother gets over the loss of her child.  I've heard the words "letting go" and "moving on" too many times from people who have never lost a child. 

People have often said how lucky I am to have so many photos of Nolan.  It's true.  I do feel grateful to have so many pictures of his beautiful face.  There are moments that I look at them and suddenly it hits me that the photos are all that I have.  I'll see his sweet smile and suddenly feel sick to my stomach.  I'll remember that he is gone

It's not that I ever forget that he is gone.  However, some moments I am actually in the moment of what is happening in the here and the now.  Then a physical feeling overcomes me.  I am not sure how to describe it, but it is an actual feeling that my body experiences.  It is sort of like a chill that travels through my entire body, often originating in my stomach, and it has a hint of nausea to it.  Then it reaches my throat and sometimes it makes it hard to breathe.  Other times it makes me feel like throwing up.

Two years later and I still experience this often. 

A grieving mother does not get over it. 

She learns to live with it because she has to.

The Power of Music

Music has always made me cry. 

It always has.

Music has this power to draw out your emotions.  You associate music with happy times, sad times, youth, family, friends, love, hate, romance, and such. 

I cried today listening to music.  It made me think of Nolan.

Guilt

Sometimes I feel guilty. 

I find myself smiling, laughing, genuinely enjoying myself.

Or like, just a bit ago, I was singing a Christmas song.  Christmas has always brought so much joy and happiness. 

When I lose myself in a movie, a book, a bottle of wine. 

I feel guilty.

I am aware of the need to keep moving.  I am aware that I have other children.  I am aware that "life goes on."

But there is guilt in that life that still lives.

There is guilt that I missed something and my son died.

There is guilt in good times.

I know that Nolan's wonderful spirit would want us to be happy.  I know that he wouldnt' want me to wallow in my sadness.

I know that. 

It doesn't change how I feel, how empty our world is without him.  It doesn't change that when I laugh, I think to myself that he should be laughing too.

Too Much Information

I'm not sure what this person was thinking.  Well, actually, I guess I sort of do because it is a place to let it all out (our grief, our pain.). 

I have this Facebook group that I joined for people who have either lost someone from Myocarditis or who have suffered it themselves (and survived.)   Mostly it is folks like me who have lost someone.  More often than not, people do not survive because there are such vague, easily missed symptoms.

A couple weeks ago, I posted a question asking other members how many of their loved ones had actually died in their sleep without warning like Nolan.  This post has had an enormous response creating quite the thread.  Most were told, like me, that he most likely simply died in his sleep peacefully. 

You know the fears I have, right?  Fearing that he awoke, scared.  Fearing that he suffered, afraid.  I have imagined that for these 678 days with such agony. 

Yet, everyone says, he was peaceful.  He died in his sleep. 

This woman commented on my thread today.  The spouse of her married adult son was in bed with him when he awoke in the middle of the night.  He bolted upright in bed making gurgling sounds before falling over in a slump. 

Now I am imagining this for my sweet Nolan.

His bedroom is next to mine.  The night he died, I thought I heard a few noises in our hallway or something, but we have pets.  So I often hear things.  He was found in bed on his stomach. 

I won't ever know, but now I have a new horrible image stuck in my head. 

I wish this other mother would have thought about that before sharing so much information, but I also understand why she did. 

The whole thing sucks, for me and for her.

Family Nights, Saturday Nights, Not the Same

As I have mentioned before, grief is exhausting.  I'm sure some of you know this for yourselves.  Those of you who don't, feel blessed.  I had no idea how tired I would be all the time from this hell. 

Today I was thinking perhaps we should play board games tonight as a family.  We haven't done that forever.  I don't think we have even done it since Nolan's death.  I am not sure.  I think one night we played charades briefly.  That's all I can remember. 

We didn't play board games as often as we should have before Nolan died, but at least we tried to sometimes.  We were supposed to that night actually because it was New Year's Eve.  That was the plan.  Junk food and board games.  Instead we had death and sorrow.

So today I thought about it.  I thought how much fun board games can be for the family.  I thought how we spend so much time at home just sitting in front of the tv or in our own rooms or on a video game or computer.  Then I felt tired.  And I remembered that it takes energy.  Especially with my three-year old around.  She takes a lot of energy.  And I'm just so tired. 

Therefore, I have a feeling we won't play board games tonight, even though it would be nice.

Another Post Titled Thirteen....

Shortly after the loss of my precious son, I wrote a post on here titled Thirteen. 
http://thesorrowful.blogspot.com/2013/02/thirteen.html

It seems impossible that I wrote that nearly two years ago.  How can it be two years since I lost him?   Two years since I kissed him goodnight and watched him walk down the hallway.  The last time to watch him walk down the hallway.

Tonight I wrote a post on my other website about my twelve-year old turning thirteen next week. 
http://www.bubblews.com/news/9325821-thirteen-isn039t-going-to-be-easy-on-me

And I thought how tough THIRTEEN is for me now. 

And I wonder if it is going through Liam's mind that Nolan died right after he turned 13.  Liam is already a worrier.  Is he worried?  Is he scared?

Why do we have to suffer this nightmare?  I still do not understand.  I don't have the faith to understand. 

I forgot

I had completely forgotten that I started another blog on here that is to be stories of my sweet boy, Nolan.  my brain is just not the same.  losing a child is so tiring, draining, horrible.  I don't remember stuff often.  I should make a point of writing on there daily.  I miss Nolan so much.

Oh, I had a connection on another site tell me they hope that I just "get over what happened" to my son....  seriously? 

Here's the post I wrote in response.
http://www.bubblews.com/news/8998804-it-actually-happened

I'm not writing as much about sorrow

It's not that I'm not feeling the sorrow.  I'm just not writing about it as much.  To those who see it on my blogs occasionally, they probably still think "wow, is that all she talks about?"  To me, sometimes I feel like I still have much to say.  Here's a few links to recent things I have written on my other blog.

http://www.bubblews.com/news/8913214-a-mother039s-anxiety
http://www.bubblews.com/news/8821103-praying-when-you-aren039t-sure-what-you-believe
http://www.bubblews.com/news/8631594-visiting-my-son039s-grave
http://www.bubblews.com/news/7835438-i-don039t-know-how-to-be-a-good-mother-anymore
http://www.bubblews.com/news/7823797-before-or-after
http://www.bubblews.com/news/7953982-the-overprotective-mother
http://www.bubblews.com/news/8007979-yoga-tears-and-my-son
http://www.bubblews.com/news/8076169-playlist-for-the-grieving-mother
http://www.bubblews.com/news/8287900-fifteen
http://www.bubblews.com/news/8240402-nolan039s-wish
http://www.bubblews.com/news/8350081-sentimental-for-the-old-days

another poem

http://www.bubblews.com/news/3613153-how-can-it-be-real

a few things that are on my mind

i hate that my other kids are asthmatic.  their coughs scare me.  I hate being so scared.

i'm so tired.

I just can't get it together

in my head, I can't help but compare the other kids to Nolan.  it's not fair.  this is making me a worse mom!!!!  I have had so many people tell me how what happened to Nolan has made them a better mom.  yet, me, the one who lost my son???? i'm a much worse mom now.  i'm angry and sad all the time.  I yell.  I disappear into myself.  this made me a worse mom.  how can there be a God when this stuff happens?  There is no reason for this.  there is no purpose to this.  i'm miserable.

Grieving Mothers

I have joined several grief groups on facebook.  I have friended a few of the ladies I have come into contact with as well.  What I am seeing is that we are all so different about how we handle things.  There is one mother who lost her son a couple months before I did.  She is constantly sad and saying she hopes she dies soon.  She has other children, but they are grown.  I think that is a big part of it.  She has no children at home to help her through this.  At first I thought that merely having other children would be such a help, but now I am seeing if they aren't at home, they dont' really pull you forward.  I would love to just stay in bed every day, but I can't.  I'm thankful for my children.

I sometimes question God now... is there a God?  If so, why does this stuff happen? 

Some people have said that Ella was God's plan because He knew what was going to happen.  So He gave her to me to help me through this.  Yet, what about these other parents?  Don't they need something?  There's no reason for any of this.  I don't see it as a part of a plan.  If it is, I am merely being punished.

Linking to an article about a Mother's Fear

http://www.bubblews.com/news/2930461-fear-of-a-mother

elusive sleep

since Nolan's death, my sleep has been messed up.  initially, there was a real fear that made me incapable of sleep.  that eased up a bit, but I still couldn't sleep.  it's been fifteen months.  sometimes there are nights that I feel scared as hell.  I watch the other children sleep.  I check their breathing.  I still do.  will I always?  other nights, I just can't sleep.  my brain won't do it.  I try.  other nights, I fall asleep, then I wake then I can't fall back to seelp.

sleep has been so troublesome since Nolan's death.

it makes my everyday life difficult.  getting up and facing the day is hard.  we sleep too late.  getting u pfor anything important is very iffy.  we hve overslept manytimes the past fifteen months.

I hate it.

I hate everything about this.

everything takes such an effort now

cooking is so draining.  I hate going in my kitchen.  dishes, ugh, always piled high in my sink.  I hate them.  I never make dessert.  I usually buy ice cream or something already made.  i'm lazy.

budgeting hasn't happened since Nolan's death.  we have spent so much money without paying attention.  time to start meal planning again. 

paying bills.  who can remember?  oh yeah, they are about to shut it off.... oops.  I better pay.

even reading books.  I love to read.  I haven't read a book since before chirstmas.  me.... over two months, no book. 

showering.  shaving legs.  effort.  ugh.

remembering anything. 

getting out of bed. 

being nice sometimes.  dealing with drama.  caring. 

reading to my kids.  I never do that anymore.  that makes me feel like a bigger failure than any of the other stuff.