First Born....

I heard it again yesterday. Claudia has recently come out of her shell, big time. She chats with total strangers. Asks them if she can come to their house. Asks them to come to her house and see her room. Asks people's names. Their dog's names. Where they live. How old they are. She is so unlike me these days, it is crazy. She used to be very shy until about 6 months ago.

We were at a birthday party for a friend's little boy, she was so excited and about came unglued when she saw the bouncy house they had rented. Thanks to the unseasonably warm week we have been having, all the kids were out in full force at this party. Claudia was chatting with a mom, chewing her ear off. The mom looked at me, told me how cute she was, four going on fourteen (don't 14 year olds ignore most adults?) and said "those first borns!"

It isn't the first time I have heard her referred to a first born, and it isn't the first time I have blogged about it either. But it just hurts when people say that, when they assume it. Maybe she "acts" like a first born if you buy into those labels (I don't).

But, she is NOT my first born. Being born conjures up images of birth to me, and she was not first. She is special, she is amazing, but....Curtis is my first born. I wish I would have said "Nope! She is my second." And I would have except the woman was walking away as she said it. The woman didn't mean anything and I am not mad about that....but I don't like those words. They make me feel bad.

There has been a huge rash of stillbirths happening to friends of friends lately. I have been contacted 3 times in the last 2 weeks over full term stillbirths and my friends wanting to know what to do to help their friend. I wish I had magic words. I don't. I offer resources and tips and advice....but you must sit helplessly by and just be a constant in their life. That is one of the few things that can help. Don't disappear, don't shy away...just be there. Hug, talk about the baby, don't forget. Remember the baby. Every holiday. Every event. Those who have done that for us....there is a special place in my heart for them.

In the car on the way home from a family birthday party Claudia...out of no where...said "Curtis died."

Yes, yes he did.

"I can't play with him because he died."

Yes, honey.

"But he is still my brother."

Cue the tears. I choked them back and said "You are right."

She then said, switching off of Curtis but still on death,  "Remember how Annie's parents died?" (Annie, from the musical. I let her watch it..it is a fave of mine, but is pretty intense. I didn't think she would follow the story like she did.)

That day we watched Annie I was trying to explain in 4 year old terms that Annie's parents died and she wanted a new mommy and daddy to love her. Of course I get the "Who is going to be my mommy and daddy when you die?" response. Craig was about to jump in and say "That won't happen." But I cut him off, one thing...life is unpredictable. I tried to tell her if something happened to mommy, daddy would take care of her and vice versa. She looked at me like I was crazy and said "No, I want a new  daddy like Annie!" Craig and I laughed, assuming she was expecting Daddy Warbucks to swoop in with his millions.

I doubt reality of what death is makes any sense to Claudia. It makes so little sense to me.

Wow. I didn't realize it has been close to 5 months since I had posted in here. That makes me sad. Because there are times I know I have really good thoughts or need an outlet. that means I don't post.

We had a nice holiday season, I often wonder what Curtis would be "into" for Christmas. Legos? Nerf? Video games? I get to shop int he "boy" section for toys because of Cole and I cannot help but glance at all the stuff. I have no idea what 90% of it is...I know if Curtis was here, I would be educated on each weird yamguchituchi thing! I wonder how he would react to all the holiday traditions I have started with the kids. What would he think was fun? Decorating cookies? Cutting down the tree with grandma and grandpa?
We have a tradition as a family to go buy toys for Toys For Tots. We have done it since Curtis died, but now that the kids are old enough we let them each pick out a toy to donate as well. They gravitated towards toys THEY would like so Craig and I pick out something appropriate for a 5 year old boy. It makes me smile to know a 5 year old out there got some cool trio blocks for Christmas this year.

With each passing of time, events....you always just wonder. What it SHOULD be like. There is never an answer, just speculation. It doesn't hurt as much to wonder like it used to, but it is very wistful and creates some hard moments.

I have a nephew who turned 7 last week. While I was pregnant with his cousin, we were so excited for these two boys to become friends. Playmates. Ryan only a little over a year when Curtis died but he has heard about him since he died and participated in the memorial events. I don't know what his parents told him...but a few weeks ago he went to his grandmother (Craig's mom) and said "You know what, Mimi? I miss Curtis."

This breaks my heart. He lost out on a life long cousin and friend when Curtis died.

But, at the same time, it warms my heart he knows him and talks about him....a little baby he never even knew.

There are moments where it is still really hard to accept. That was one of them. His loss hit everyone in our family. There is a teacher who missed out on teaching him, a little boy or girl who missed out on playing with him.... as time passes I am sure I will think about him in the terms of a teenager or man and everything and everyone who missed out on him as those ages. And everything HE missed out on.

It will never go away.

Sweet Sara.... I first blogged about Sara back in 2009.

See the post here: http://born-still-but-still-born.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-have-mentioned-here-and-there-about.html

I have followed her blog for years. We exchanged emails back in 2009 for awhile. While we never became "friends" I thought of her as a friend since I read her blog daily. I often looked to her posts for wisdom, for perspective. She had a disease that left her house bound and it never seemed to rattle her. We could all use a little Sara attitude in our lives.

Sara passed away yesterday. I read the words in the middle of the night and my heart sunk. I had been keeping up to date on her condition, so it wasn't a shock...but, dang. I am going to miss her and her posts. They made me laugh, they made me tear up and they gave me many hours of reflection.

I will miss you, Sara. Thank you.

Her blog will remain open...I invite you to go back and read her words and her life. How lucky were her family and friends to get to have her in their lives? http://gitzengirl.blogspot.com/ Thank you for sharing her with us.

Bitter. Sweet. Sweet. Bitter.....

Today is one of those days. With the start of the new school year for 2011-2012(for public schools in Minnesota, it is the day after Labor day) comes a whole new level of mixed emotions. Curtis would be starting kindergarten this year. Likely, he would have a year or two of preschool under his belt so this would be the whole formalility of going 5 days a week, possibly riding the bus. Going to the "big" school with the older kids. Maybe he would be in all day kindergarten and eat at school. There would be recess and field trips. Parent/teacher conferences. His first year in 12 years. I think we can all agree kindergarten is a big deal.

Now, with the start of each new school year, I will be thinking to myself "Curtis should be starting (whatever grade)." When will that end? Graduating high school? Graduating college? Claudia will be two grade years behind him so I know I will always have some sort of reference point.

Now, comes the sweet. Claudia will be attending preschool this fall. Two afternoons a week, for a few hours. She is going to love it. We have recently moved and I didn't think I would be able to enroll her. Thanks to some schedule changes at my work and daycare, my schedule is going to allow me to bring her. We found a place with openings and signed her up. I know she will love it. After a few years of various early childhood classes, I know how much she enjoys being in a classroom. This summer she has come out of her shell a lot and isn't as shy as she once was. When I signed her up, I made a remark to the woman helping me "She has gotten so big, so fast!" And the woman said, sweetly, "Are you going to be okay, Mom?".  Oh yeah, I replied. "I am excited for her!" And I am.

I am just sad for all that he missed. First days of school. First sport teams. First field trips. First sleepovers. First homework....all the stuff that comes with elementary school and growing up. I have quite a few friends with babies starting kindergarten this year. It is hard not to be wistful of what _should_ be.

_______________

Please consider donating to Team Curtis....we are struggling to get donations this year. There is less than two weeks to the walk. Missing GRACE continues to help our hearts and helps new, grieving families each day going through the horror of stillbirth. http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/chantel-jullie/teamcurtis2011

So, I got the book I referred to in my last post. It is really simple, to the point. It talks about a couple who were very happy but something was missing. That something was a baby. It talks about how they prepare for the baby, how excited they are, and how things don't go according to plan and the baby dies. There is no sugar coating of "passed away". It shows the couple crying, very sad. It goes on to say they were sad for a long time but eventually that special baby does work in their hearts to allow room for another baby.

I read the book to Claudia. The back of the book says ages 2 and up. No way would Cole understand this book in the next two months. Anyway, I know she doesn't have the concept of death or what "dead" means. So I am not sure what she fully understood. I know she understood the first part of the book where the couple was so happy. What confused her was after the baby dies in the book, the baby makes appearances as an angel looking over the mom and dad. I was trying to explain the book was about Curtis and she kept saying "look, the dead baby Curtis is back" on each page. I do think that part was a bit confusing. But, the end of the book shows the family celebrating the special baby each year and I think that may have clicked a bit with her since she still talks about the fun we had on Curtis' birthday. She has asked to read the book a few times and calls in "Curtis' book". I try to use his name and say the couple in the story is me and Craig to try to drive the point home more.

I know it will still be awhile before she understands Curtis came before her. I know this is OUR grief and not her grief so I don't expect sadness from her or Cole. I just want a bit of understanding from them. That Curtis is a part of our family, he always will be. He is no more important than them, we haven't "romanticized" him as the perfect child just because he never had the chance to live.... but that they were very very VERY much wanted. They were never a replacement for him. They would have been here even if he had lived.

For that, I am certain. All three of these precious babies were meant to be in my arms...even for a moment or a lifetime.

I am really excited that I found this book: Someone Came Before You

I haven't read it yet, but the reviews look great. It is written to explain the death of a baby to the subsequent child(ren). I have a lot of blog friends who lost their first, like I did, so I thought I would share. Like I said, I JUST found it (ordering it right now) so haven't read it yet. I have been looking for a book just like this. All other books explain the death of a sibling to a child who was living at the time. Claudia and Cole came after Curtis and I want them to understand as best as I can. Claudia asks questions, but I know it is all clear as mud to her right now.

I will post more about it after I get it.

My birthday was Saturday, the 9th.

I was remembering what my birthday was like 5 years ago. Craig's gram's birthday was the 10th. In 2006, she turned 90 and her family had planned a large party for family and friends. Craig's extended family was flying in from Florida to this party.... it had been in the works for a year.

In fact, in December of 2005, I was just a few months pregnant with Curtis. Had yet to know he was a boy, hadn't felt him move yet. Craig and I were celebrating our 1st anniversary and briefly spent some time in Florida and I got to meet Craig's extended family. I remember saying to them "When we see you for the party, the baby will have been born."

Her party was on my actual birthday. I remember my arms literally aching for the baby I was not getting to show off at that party. Curtis would have been just a month old. I had already bought him an outfit to wear to the party.... I didn't know what to do with myself. I was grieving so hard and missing him so much at that party. There were so many people, I felt lost in the sea of friends and family, just standing back thinking I shouldn't be blending into the crowd. I should be showing off my baby boy. It was a hard time.

I remember the card Craig's gram gave me for my birthday that year. I know I still have it. She had a hand written note that said "next year will be better. It HAS to." I can still hear her voice. Craig told me once that she had said that it was the worst news she had ever received when she heard Curtis died. This was a woman who buried two husbands and lost countless friends and family members.

By my next birthday in 2007, I was pregnant with Claudia. We are lucky enough that she got to meet and know Claudia. We lost Gram in 2009, just a few weeks before I learned I was pregnant with Cole. He is the only great grandchild she didn't get to meet.

Then again, you have to wonder if she didn't send him to us.

(This post is part of a project "Right Where I Am" Where I Am Project)

Where I am, 5 years and 4 weeks after saying hello and goodbye.

Five years and 4 weeks ago I was gripped in a new reality. I had walked in to my 40 week doctor's appointment a pregnant woman with my first baby and walked out a grieved parent. I had given birth to a 6lb 10oz baby boy. I had held him in my arms, touched his little nose, said goodbye to his little body...and I went home.

I went home to grieve. I went home to try to create a new life. I spent a lot of time on the couch. I researched, I read, I sought out any baby loss mom I could find who had another baby. I knew that time would help. I have often said in this blog and in my life, that even in those early days, I knew 2 or 3 years down the road, I would feel better.

Here I am. 5 years later. I know I am one of the lucky ones. My marriage didn't crumble in the wake of this. We were still newlyweds, barely married a year and a half when Curtis died. We both clung to each other and both seemed to grieve in similar manners. We listened to each other. We supported each other. And then I got pregnant. Miscarried. Got pregnant again. Had Claudia and then had Cole. And here we are. Laughing and hugging our children. Up all night with puking kids and frustrated at each other for not doing this and that. You know, life. Life of a married couple with young children.

In all of this? Is still the knowledge of my greatest loss. My greatest disappointment, and of the best thing I have ever done. Craig recently started working a documentary of some sort, where we have sat down and started to 'record' our story. Explaining, on camera, piece by piece of Curtis' life and death was difficult. I cried and cried and told my story through my sobs. After talking, I felt drained and exhausted after one does with emotional upheavals... but his story has always been something I am proud of. Curtis is always something, someone, I am proud of. I made him. I created him. We were together, me and him, for 9 amazing months. I want you to know him. I want you to love him like I love him....just like I want you to know and love Claudia and Cole.

And, in that, is still the part I struggle with. People don't know Curtis like I know him. They see this family of 4 and never picture another little boy, possibly holding his sister's hand, or possibly making her scream. They never picture him playing tball with his daddy like I do. I want people to know him. I want him to be as important as my living children in their eyes.And that is something I struggle with. People _forget_ a baby died inside of me. Recently a co-worker repeated a horrible comment, a joke actually, about a baby dying inside of the mother. I sat, in absolute horror before I had to leave the room in tears. She felt horrible. But it speaks volumes that people forget. Forget what happened to me. She didn't know me when I lost Curtis, but knows my story...and it never registered to her not to say this in front of me.

I was hurt, but I wasn't mad. I know, in my heart of hearts, she was just repeating a dumb comment. Not trying to hurt me. All is forgiven.

I am not sure I could have done that 3 or 4 years ago. I did cry. I did talk to my husband about the comment. But I accepted, truly accepted her apology. I have often said in my grief process I KNOW people aren't trying to hurt me, but what do I do with the comments that DO hurt? Why must I be the grown up one and forgive hurtful comments? I still feel this way, why does the one who gets hurt have to be so generous? But, it does get easier to be generous with these things five years later.

On his birthday this year, I didn't cry. I did cry two days before, had a pretty big meltdown. But on his actual birthday, I felt peace. Later in the day, after all of our activities and travel, we were in our hotel room. Craig said "Is it 5:31 yet?",. And I said "What is 5:31?"

The time Curtis was born.

I felt _horrible_. Yes, it came out of nowhere. We had crawled out of the water park, soaked. We were ushering the kids in the room, they were begging for juice, crackers, and movies.

But my words haunted me for a long time. How could I NOT know what he meant? 5:31pm. On 5/31. It was his time. And I questioned what it even was.

So, five years later, I still have a very hard time forgiving myself for not being the perfect mother to Curtis. I didn't save him when I know I could have. And after his delivery,  I made constant mistakes and missteps. 5 years later? I still am. That is the part I struggle with the most. Still screwing up the few times I CAN parent him.

Claudia and Cole have been some of our greatest joys. Curtis truly lead the way to them. Claudia mentions him all the time, though I know she still doesn't get any of it. I  think she thinks the statue we go visit is Curtis. She talks about wanting to buy him a birthday present again. I know they won't have much relationship with him, it will be something that happened to her mom and dad and not something that happened to her. But I want them to understand we love all our children. No matter what. In life, in death, in bad choices and in good. We love our children. I would like to think I would have cherished Curtis the way I cherish Claudia and Cole had he lived. But there is a deeper element that comes with it all. I probably linger a bit more over their sleeping silhouettes, I may indulge their Dora obsessions a bit extra, I may worry a bit more after a rough daycare drop off. than I would normally.

But, with everything...I am still me. I still need my alone time. I still enjoy working and having something outside of my children to focus on. That was a surprise to me. After having Claudia, I was convinced I wouldn't ever let my children out of my sight...but I have and I do. I have given up some control. I wasn't ready when Claudia was a newborn, but at about 9 months, I was okay.

And that is what it boils down to. I am okay. I am more happy than I am sad. I love the heck out of my kids and miss my baby boy. I feel the grief grip my heart on a random day as opposed to his birthday. I have suffered a lot along the way. I still suffer from anxiety and PTSD. I don't know if I will ever, truly, be at peace with not saving his life. I don't know if I can forgive myself but I have learned to make peace with these things. I think it is okay for me to not forgive myself if I am kind to myself in other areas of life. If I truly can be happy in other moments and decisions I have made.

 I will never ever be the same as the woman who walked into that doctor's appointment the morning  of May 31, 2006.

But I am okay.

Flowers for Baby Ethan, Baby Aaron, and Baby Abbey:

(The two white are for the boys, the pink is for Abbey. I couldn't find blue for the boys, but the girly mom in me knew Abbey needed a pink flower)

Flowers and a cupcake for Curtis:

We had a beautiful day for his birthday. We went to the Angel of Hope, laid flowers at Curtis' bricks, took pictures, ate cupcakes and released a balloon. As tradition, we took the kids to the Build A Bear and they each picked something to make. We then drove 3+ hours to Wisconsin and took the next 3 days as a family.

There were no tears on his 5th birthday. The night before, I had a pretty hard time when I was going to buy the cupcakes and flowers...the 5th birthday candle killed me... but the actual day was so much fun and something I look forward to. I plan this nice stuff. I look forward to having cupcakes, taking the kids to Build a Bear and going on vacation. I love building memories in his name. At the end of the day, it is just a date...I remember Curtis year round. My hard days are usually a random Tuesday out of nowhere.

I have some more pictures and video I will post of Claudia putting the flowers for Abbey, Aaron, and Ethan in the Angel's hands. It was really sweet. Abbey, Ethan, and Aaron all have a special place in my heart. I have mentioned them before. I have "met" Abbey's mom via blogs, she was born still June 4th, 2006. Aaron lived for 33 days, born premature, he was a total fighter and passed away May 31, 2006. The same day Curtis was born still. I knew his mom before and after our pregnancies. Ethan was born June 2nd and passed away June 14th 2005. I met his mom online after I lost Curtis.

(Corss posted to my other blog.)

I am trying to wrap my head around 5 years.

A friend of mine with a little boy who was born a few weeks after Curtis posted recently that her little guy has his first loose tooth. Seriously? Curtis would be old enough to lose a tooth?

I was packing up Claudia's room this week and at the back of her closet, on the wall, I have 3 wall decals I placed there. They are from Curtis' room. A turtle, a snail, and a ladybug. When I took down his room and turned it into her room, I took a few of those decals and placed them at the back of her closet. I would catch of glimpse of them now and again. Claudia never noticed them until her closet was completely empty and she started laughing at the silly turtle with a hat and the bugs. She wanted to take them down and pack them in a box and take them to the new house. For her new closet. I think that is a good idea.

Each year I say I am going to handle the 2 months leading up to his birthday better, but I don't. It is a subconscious thing, I think. Because when it is here, I realize just how badly I have self destructed without even realizing it until it is past. So, we are just going to take a deep breath and hold on.

5 years.

He would go to kindergarten this fall. He would be playing soccer or hockey. He would be riding a bike. He would have a loose tooth. A dimple like Craig. He would be into the new Cars movie and want a party with his friends.

Or would he?

I don't know.

I have been absent from my blog(s) lately.

But, it is that time of the year again. On top of Curtis' 5th birthday, we are moving.

We live in a small townhouse right now. Craig works over 35 miles away and the commute is killing him, about an hour each way. In the winter it is much more brutal. In the spring when he works 80+ hour weeks, it will be much easier to be close to home.

But, this house. This tiny 2 bedroom townhouse. The walls have started to close in on us. We have two little ones. Two bedrooms. A dog. Toys. It is a great place, but it is too small for us.

We bought this townhouse in 2004. When the economy was okay, when buying was the smart thing because you could turn around in 2 years and sell and buy something bigger. So we bought a place we could reasonably afford and expected to live here for 2 years.

Two years has turned into seven. We tried to sell once, when I was pregnant with Curtis. We couldn't, so we stayed put.

Now, we are moving. Seven years later. We are renting a single family home. Not all that much bigger then what we have now, but it has 3 bedrooms. A basement for storage. A deck. A yard. A yard for the kids. 10 minutes from Craig's work, close to our families. (No more traveling an hour to see Craig's family!).

But....this is the house where Curtis lived. It is where he was created, it is where his heartbeat started...it is where he died. It is very weird to think about. So many of my memories about being pregnant with him take place in this house. Like putting the crib together in the living room and it not fitting through the doorway of his room. Creating his bedroom.

Walking through the door without him on June 1st of 2006.

This house is also the house where Claudia and Cole took their first steps. It is where we brought them home after not bringing their big brother home.

A house isn't where memories live, they live in the hearts of those who hold them. This house has had so much sadness, but so much happiness as well.

There are a lot of mixed emotions flowing around right now.

It is May.Curtis' 5th birthday is in a few weeks.

It is Mother's Day.

We are soon moving out of the house were Curtis lived and where he died.

I read this online recently and it has made it through the loss pages out there, but I thought I would share in case.

Some Mothers Don’t Get A Perfect Ending By Erma Bombeck

IF you are looking for an answer this Mother's Day on why God reclaimed your child, I don't know.I only know that thousands of mothers out there today desperately need an answer as to why they were permitted
to go through the elation of carrying a child and then to lose it to miscarriage, accident, violence, disease, or drugs.


Motherhood isn't just a series of contractions, it is a state of mind
From the moment we know life is inside us,we feel a responsibility to protect and defend that human bein
It's a promise we can't keep. We beat ourselves to death over that pledge.

"If I hadn't worked through the eighth month"

"If I had just taken him to the doctor when he had a fever"

"If I hadn't let him use the car that night"

"If I hadn't been so naive, I'd noticed he was on drugs".


The longer I live, the more convinced I become that surviving changes us.
After the bitterness, the anger, the guilt and despair are tempered by time, we look at life differently.

When I was writing my book "I Want to Grow Hair,I Want to Grow Up. I Want to Go to Boise," I talked with mothers who has lost lost a child to cancer. every single one of said that death gave their lives new meaning and purpose. And who do you think prepared them for the rough, lonely road they had to travel?

Their dying child.

They pointed their mothers to the future and told them to keep going. The children had already accepted what their mothers were fighting to reject. The children in the bomb out nursery in Oklahoma City have now touched more lives then they will ever know. Workers who had probably given their kids a mechanical pat on the head without thinking that morning were making calls home during the day to their children to say,"I love you."

This may seem like a strange Mothers day column on a day when joy and life abound for millions of mothers through out the country.

But it's also a day of appreciation and respect. I can think of no other mothers who deserve it more then those who had to give a child back.

In the face of adversity we are not permitted to ask "Why me?" You can ask, but you won't get an answer.

Maybe you are the instrument who is left behind to perpetuate the life that was lost and appreciate the time you had with them to do it

The late Gilda Radner summed it up pretty well. "I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned the hard way that some poems don't rhyme and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what is going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity

I have come here a thousands times to post in the last month and I start....and stop.

It is the time of year where so many memories come flooding back. You would think after 5 years April and May wouldn't make me as sad as they do, but it hasn't happened. It is better, sure. And due to the traditions we have set up in Curtis' memory I _do_ look forward to his birthday.

But I wonder.

I wonder what I was thinking April 14th of 2006. I had access to a journal I kept online when I was pregnant with him, kind of like a blog. I remember combing through my pregnancy journal after he died reading what I wrote and chastising myself for having hope this baby would live. Heck, EXPECTING him to live. Because at 35 weeks pregnant a live baby was a given. Correct?

So, tonight I looked.

I didn't make an entry on April 14th, 2006. But I did on April 19th, 2006. So I read it. I was getting the room ready to go.

".....I then start playing with the room and rearranging it and started putting the bugs on the wall. (This was very systematic too. I didn't want too many swirls and stars in one area and not enough in others. I am a dork) I just put together the dresser last night (Tuesday)...but we have a good spot for it. I haven't done anything with the bedding or stuff yet. So it is a work in progress! Picture time:

The bookshelf (the truck on it was his Easter basket and on top is bookends. Monday I went out and bought 3 baby books so I could put them up. I am so excited!"

I should probably stay away from what I wrote. It just screams YOU ARE SO NAIVE to me.... I know I prepared a room/bought stuff for both Claudia and Cole. But when I did that stuff, I wasn't so naive. I was preparing for the best case scenario and pushing through absolute fear. And with Curtis, I just assumed.

I recently have "liked"  Tom Zuba on facebook. He is a grief guide and an author. He advocates for mourning safely. His own story is horrific. He lost his toddler daughter, his wife and son. All at different times, all for different reasons. My heart ached when I read his story. How can one person endure so much loss? Watching life he created, die. Watching the love of his  life, die.

His posts on facebook have always hit home with me.

This one quote he posted today  really hit home for me. I often feel people are shocked when I can talk about Curtis' story so easily. But it isn't that it doesn't still hurt....it does....but his death has allowed me to be a much better person in dealing with other people's losses.

When we are in pain, we become self-centered and myopic. When we heal, we become more empathetic, self-less, and sympathetic to the pain and welfare of others. It is our gift to others to heal ourselves." ~ Max Strom

I remember being completely selfish when we lost Curtis. Which was fine. I needed to protect myself, my heart. It means not being around for Christmas that year, it meant not answering the door for trick or treaters....  It is what I needed to do to learn my new normal and "heal" into that norm.