Thursday, November 13, 2014

So....our daycare provider's baby died. He had a diagnosed heart condition in utero, was born prematurely and lived 5 days. Despite his premature birth at 32 weeks, he was doing really well with little assistance. His heart condition was going to be treatable as he got older so his death was quite a shock to everyone, his doctors included. 

I explained it to C and C and they immediately said "he died like Curtis!" it is really kind of common to them, really, so I felt sad that they thought it was normal. 

His funeral is this weekend. I haven't attend a baby's funeral since *my* baby's funeral. 

What is interesting to me is I cannot imagine their grief. 

Sounds weird, right? It was like when my co-worker's baby was stillborn at 40 weeks this summer. A baby boy. Sounds pretty similar, right? I couldn't even fathom her pain. 

Isn't that weird? I have (and do) grieve/d a son.. I have come home empty handed to a house _full_ of baby stuff. A room decorated. A car seat installed in the car. His name on the wall. His birth announcements designed. I have held my son in my arms while he was lifeless....I have planned a funeral. I have cried and raged and grieved. 

And I still cannot imagine the heartache. When I read her words on the caring bridge page about her grief, I nodded, because they are familiar and I do remember feeling like that. Despite that, I cannot imagine it.

It is just that horrible of a thing, that even someone who has been through it, cannot even 

fathom it. 

When I have watched that video Craig made of Curtis, that documentary as we call it, I cannot even get through it because it is so sad and it is *my* story. I lived it.  Like I mentioned in a previous post. It is hard to go back to that dark place, I guess. Maybe it is self preservation.

My heart just aches for these families though. I know the long road they must now travel. I knew in 2006 it would feel better one day and I am grateful I was right. 

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

I haven't posted in a long time. Almost a year. I didn't post on his 8th birthday, I didn't post when we missed the walk we had attended since 2006 and I didn't post when a co-worker lost her little boy at 40 weeks.

He is talked about _all the time_. Really, he is. Another co-worker was dealing with a personal loss, her first one really, and she was asking me a lot of questions about grief and what I went through and how I was able to handle it. I can talk about Curtis tenderly but also very matter of fact like. My kids mention him on a regular basis. His "stuff" is around, pictures, a whole curio cabinet of momentos... but there is something about time. I read something recently about how you grieve and grieve and grieve. And then life happens. With each day, another layer gets added on. Pretty soon that pain is buried deep inside of you and it takes work and effort to dig it up. IT is still there and DANG does it still hurt but it is so much work to feel so intently it is just easier to not deal with it. Having two living children, our lives are busy. They are at the ages where life is starting to get crazy. It is more and more layers.

In high school, a friend told me about her baby sister who died. She said on her sister's birthday each year her mom was humming Happy Birthday happily in the kitchen. This mom wrote me a letter years and years later when Curtis died and told me how she threw that baby's bassinet down the steps when she came home without her daughter. I still know this woman and I know how many layers the years have added to that grief and heartache. She has had a good life despite the loss of her daughter.

In a way I am so grateful for those layers the last 8 and half years have added, I am glad I don't live each day in utter misery. Curtis is always there, the grief may be buried but Curtis? He is always at the surface. It is a good place to be. I bought a cute Beanie Boo Angel Bear today. I saw it in the store, big blue eyes with angel wings.... it has a poem about watching over us as we sleep. It came home with me and took its' place in Curtis' curio cabinet.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Holy wow. HOLY WOW

Check out this comment I got on my Kick Counts post:

I know this post is old, but I wanted to thank you for it. I found it while 38 weeks pregnant with my second daughter because I thought her movement was much less than her sister. At 39 weeks 6 days, I noticed she had significantly slowed down. I got 10 movements in an hour, but they were sluggish. I went in to L&D and the on call doctor sent me home after an NST. The next morning, I told my doctor, who induced immediately. She had heart rate variations during labor. Her heart rate dropped to the 60s right before delivery, and when she came out, it was easy to see why. The cord went over one shoulder, around the back of the next, down the other shoulder, and wrapped around her arm so tightly that hand was blue.

This woman, Tricia, did everything right. I like to think this post helped her baby. Helped her tell her doctor something weird was up. I am so glad her little baby is okay.

I know I don't post often, because the farther you get out from loss, the more you feel like you are repeating yourself. "Still gone. Still miss him. Still posting that I feel like a broken record."

Our kids talk about Curtis all the time. They have said cute things, they have said sad things, they have said things that hurt. They are 6 and 4 and I know they don't understand. It will be something small in their radar, something that happened to their mom and dad. What will it be like when/if THEY have kids? Will they realize our heartache?

Time _does_ make things better. It does. Am I over his death? No. But time has helped. Day to day grief has eased and sometimes you feel guilty for that. I feel guilty for someone who may stumble on this blog and think "Well, her baby died and she doesn't even care!" I do, I do care. Go back and read. And when some of my most heart wrenching stuff isn't even written here. I have it privately locked down. I read it and think "wow. I was _angry_. So so so angry." I remember it, I do. I lived it. I grieved it. But it does feel vaguely unfamiliar.

But, being a bit on the "other side" makes me so fearful of grieving again. Part of life, part of love is losing someone.  I am terrified to my very soul of going back to that angry angry place. Because I have been there. I never lost someone before I lost Curtis. I knew death would hurt, but I didn't know how much Then Curtis died. Now, I know how much....and so I worry. I am terrified. I don't want to grieve again. I know it is inevitable...but grief sucks. Living through it sucks. I now know what it feels like and that terror always is just below the surface.

Random post, I know.