3 months.

3 months…

3 months already, time is flying and the world is moving on. And we are moving on the best we know how. Our days are very different from most people’s I would imagine. Home from work, reflecting on our day, we are often brought to tears. Not every day…some days we are strong. Some days the tears don’t come as easily. But other days…those other days…they flow like a river. My grief is evolving…and changing. Not easier but different. I think of my little man every day. I wonder what we would be doing right now. I’m sure I would be a tired mamma ranting on facebook about the woes of breastfeeding.

Instead, I am a grieving mamma.

One who misses her baby every day, yearns to hold her baby in her arms, visiting his grave almost daily. Traipsing through the snow just to say hello and driving through the cemetery just for some comfort. I know Dougie is not there. His grave only a tomb for his perfect little body…but somehow it still brings me peace. Dougie’s soul is playing in heaven, sitting in the Lords lap, looking down on us. Our family’s littlest angel.

He, by far, is the lucky one…

photo 2

Loaded Question

Last Sunday, Doug and I were at a new church and were confronted with the most loaded question that now plagues us. “Do you have any children?” This is the first time we had been asked that since Dougie died. I immediately looked to Doug with a lump in my throat and tears welling up in my eyes. I had no clue what to say. I don’t think Doug did either. What is the right answer to that? So many things run through your head…

Well I could say yes but then we will be asked how many kids do you have, boy or girl etc. But if I say no, Will I be denying our precious boy. But if I say yes, then they will ask details, and do I really want to tell this complete stranger about the most devastating, earth shattering thing that has happened to us…. the answer is no, I’m not ready for that.

Bravely, Doug answered no. Instantly I felt a tug at my heart. I heard Dougie scream “What about me Mom?!” The lady, who had no clue what she had just stirred up inside of us, continued to show us the church nursery, telling us that one day when we do have kids, this is where they hold Sunday school.

Doug and I didn’t say a word to each other after this and the service started. I sat there numb. I wasn’t sure what just hit me. I prayed for Dougie to please forgive us and asked for some guidance. Afterwards, Doug and I broke down. We weren’t sure what the right answer was to that question, but one thing is certain…the answer isn’t no.

Until now, I never realized that question could hold so much meaning. A simple question, that most of the time is one simple answer. But what if it’s not a simple answer…what if the answer is much more loaded than you ever anticipated. I can’t blame someone for asking this. It’s a common question, especially for a married couple of our age. But please the next time you ask this, understand that the answer may not be simple. This question can evoke a whole new sense of loneliness to someone who has lost his or her child. Don’t stop asking this question, but when the answer isn’t a simple yes or no, please be prepared to listen and most certainly, don’t ask more questions. They will offer you all the information they want to. And sometimes that will be one simple word.

2…long…months

2 months.

It’s been 2 months since we had to say hello and goodbye to the sweetest boy we have ever met. It seems so long ago but yet feels like yesterday.  The pain is still so raw and fresh. Some days I am completely hopeless, constantly seeing reminders of what we don’t have, pictures of newborns on Facebook, walking past the baby section in Target or hearing about someone else’s pregnancy. Then other days, I grow hopeful and those small things don’t sting so bad. When I wake up in the morning, I never can tell you what kind of day I will have. So I accept that one small comment, picture or thought could bring me to my knees.

I still struggle on a daily basis with this grief journey and how to navigate it. It’s a confusing thing. It’s dark, lonely, overwhelming and numbing. One thing I’m coming to grasp is that grief is so individual; this is the first time I have realized that. I have experienced grief several times in my life but never like this. I lost my mom unexpectedly when I was 24 around this time exactly 5 years ago. That journey was painful and also overwhelming but not in the same sense. This grief is soul shaking, so undeniably different. I have lost a part of me, a piece of my heart I know I will never get back, that feeling is indescribable. When DJ died, a piece of my soul, heart and mind died right along with him. I knew we had a long road ahead of us but I didn’t realize how profoundly we would feel DJ’s absence on a daily basis. It’s everywhere. The absent cries and giggles of a 2 month old child make our home silent. We are trying to come to terms with this but aren’t quite sure how. We are learning it’s a journey, a process that’s not as linear as everyone thinks.