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. 

Worries for the PTSD Mother

 

I'm tired of worrying so much.  I have always been a worrier.  Before I even had children, I had a friend who called me "The Worrying Walrus" (because she had read a children's book titled that).  Add children to the mix and then, of course, I worry about them.  Add the death of my son to our lives, and worry has become an enormous weight. 

So many fears exist now, fears that, perhaps were there, but were miniscule. 

 

My twelve-year old (who turns thirteen next week) worries me.  First of all, I have this worry that I will lose all my children at age thirteen.  It's an unreasonable fear.  I have no valid reason to feel that way.  I'm just scared. 

 

However, my twelve-year old has been complaining of neck pains for almost a week now.  I seriously think it is probably just a pulled muscle.  He feels fine otherwise.  He even remembers when it started, specifically, like he pulled something.  However, it's just not getting any better.  Again, it is probably just a pulled muscle. 

 

But what if it isn't? 

 

I don't know what else it could be, but I'm still scared. 

 

I hate the fear that is in my life now.  I hate it.

Post Traumatic Stress

I suffer from post-traumatic stress because of the death of my son.  I am certain that my children do as well.  I'm not sure about my husband.  He keeps his grief pretty close to his chest.  He also has a much stronger faith than I which seems to help him.

Finding my son dead without warning is an image that is embedded in my brain.  I still hear the screams of my other children.  I still hear my husband saying, "Nolan, don't be dead!" over and over and over.  It has faded a bit after nearly two years, but it's there.  It:  the memory that I never wanted.

Finding out that Nolan's heart simply stopped because of a condition called Myocarditis which was caused by some random every day virus makes raising my living children filled with this big question mark, this huge stress, this worry.

My twelve-year old often complains of chest pains.  He has been to the doctor, the er, a cardiologist many times since Nolan's death.  Everything appears healthy and normal.  Of course, Nolan's heart probably appeared healthy a month before his death as well.  How can I reconcile this?  How can I try to tell my living son that he has nothing to worry about?  I don't want to turn him into a hypochondriac. 

My eleven year old daughter didn't sleep much for the first year or so after Nolan's death.  At some point, she started asking me at night if her heart was ok.  She said it hurt, it felt funny.  We also took her to the specialist for evaluations.  She seems fine as well. 

My eight-year old doesn't seem to worry at this point.  My three-year old was young enough when it happened that I don't think she was phased by everything.  Oh, she misses Nolan, but she didn't understand what was happening when she saw her mother scream and fall to the snow-covered ground. 

Part of the worry I have gives me this horrible feeling of wishing my children would hurry and grow up and move out of the house.  I will always worry about them, always.  But I get so tired and exhausted from the sight of Liam putting his heart over his chest and Ciara asking if she's going to be ok.  I understand it.  And I love them so much.  And down deep, NO, I am not ready for them to grow up and move out.  It's just the stress on top of the grief. 

This myocarditis stuff isn't as rare as you would think.  I am currently a part of a group of people who have been affected by the condition.  This group has over 800 members.  There are many times this is misdiagnosed.   The numbers are much higher than that.  I hear story after story that is like mine where someone went to check on their loved one and he/she was simply dead in bed with no warning. 

It's not fair.  It's not right.