I was thinking today, once again, about the weight of grief.  It's exhausting with its heaviness.  You don't always realize it is there.  Sometimes you actually feel joyful about something, but maybe it's that guilt then that weighs on you.  How can you feel joy when your son died?

I'm often so tired.  And I'm wondering if this is why.

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.

The Birth of My Son

originally published on bubblews in December 2013

December.... Traditionally, December is my favorite time of year. It always has been. Not only is it Christmas, but it is my birthday. Then, along came Nolan in 1999 and even more reasons to love it. With 2010 came the birth of my daughter ella, so December has always been special to me.

My eldest child, Nolan, my first-born, had a due date of late January. As a first time pregnant mom, I worried very little. People are pregnant and give birth every day. So when I went into the doctor for my check-up on December 21, 1999, I had no fear. I had borderline high blood pressure the last couple weeks. However, I wasn't worried. When the doctor measured me and noted that I hadn't grown in 2 weeks, I was not worried. When she sent me over to have an ultrasound, I still felt no fear.

As the ultrasound techs started noting things and talking quietly, I began to think something might be wrong. I called my husband and said you might want to join me at the dr office. By the time he arrived, they told me "you are having a baby tonight"... They proceeded to tell us that our child looked to be only 2 pounds or so. He was approximately 6 weeks early. We were scared.

Around 10pm, the medical team started me on pitocen to try to start labor. After about an hour, they realized that my sweet child's heart rate was dropping every time there was a contraction. The consensus was that his small body could not handle labor. The decision was made to prep for a C-section. At this point, it was near midnight, it was near my birthday, my 30th birthday. As they prepared for delivering my first child, I realized it would be on my birthday.

Shortly after midnight, I heard my son's first cry. It was an amazing, scary sound. My husband and I both burst into tears. We were already in love with this child more than words could ever say.

He weighed in at 3 pounds 12 ounces. He was small, but healthy. He only stayed in the hospital for 9 days. They sent us home with our precious son on New Year's Eve 1999.

13 years later, New Year's Eve 2012, our son was dead in his bed from a virus to his heart.

13 years we had with this beautiful child.

13 years were not enough.

I miss him immensely.

I want him back

More Links to Bubbles about you

http://www.bubblews.com/news/9765117-grieving-in-the-days-of-online-social-networks
http://www.bubblews.com/news/9760006-strength
http://www.bubblews.com/news/9759907-i039m-not-visiting-the-cemetery-today
http://www.bubblews.com/news/9757984-potato-soup-and-fear
http://www.bubblews.com/news/9757469-two-years-ago
http://www.bubblews.com/news/9751746-a-birthday-party

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.

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. 

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?

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.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is here.

My second without you. 

Most of the time I am just functioning, doing everything I have to do.  Then suddenly I feel tears because I see a picture of you.  I looked through pictures of your last thanksgiving. 

We were at my sister's house.  You and your little brother Logan helped uncle Bruce and your cousin chase to chop wood.  You loved to be productive. 

Today is the first time I will be at your Aunt Brenda's house since you died. 

I will see your ghost everywhere I am sure:  playing board games, eating turkey legs, watching tv in the living room, out in her backyard, her front yard, playing the piano. 

You will be missing.  You will be missed. 

I miss you always.

Christmas Time Again

well, we made it through the second Halloween without you.  how do we do it?  how do we make it?  i'm not sure other than we have to.

This week will be Thanksgiving number two without you. 

And we begin the decorating for Christmas this week.  Christmas and your birthday, my favorite times of year.  It feels so bittersweet without you.  Is it wrong that I still love this time of year?  I'm sure it is because I have the other children to keep the excitement and joy going for me.  I am sure it will get harder the closer we get to Christmas.  Then after Christmas is even more tough because it leads to the day of your death, December 31, 2012. 

I hate those words "the day of your death."  They just sounds F...ed up. 

I miss you so much.

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.