I don't post for days and then I do and when I do, I cover you all in my roller coaster of emotions that is me.
As most of you know, I am the mother to two beautiful, healthy children. I am also the mother of a dead child.
With the recent deaths of babies circulating around the blogosphere, I haven't said a word. Mostly because I didn't realize just how raw my insides still were until it happened. I read the first sentence of any post lately and I burst into tears.
I can't equate the pain of losing a child to anything else. When it happened to me I felt like my insides and been yanked out and shoved back in, but not in the right places and I was just supposed to wake up the next morning with all of this weird, twisted madness inside me and make it all work.
And it didn't. It didn't work.
And I felt selfish for being so eaten alive about someone who held such a short window in my whole life. But it was my whole life.
If you read nothing else today besides this mess, then you are missing out on the best thing I've read in a very long time.
Simply put...
Thank you, Maggie.
Thanks for remembering for me.
**Update: I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you from the bottom of my bruised soul for the amazing comments and emails I've received. I am a huge wuss. I know this. I know how selfish I've been with trying so desperately to ignore the current atmosphere of Twitter and blogville. I know this too. I like to imagine these things don't happen to other people. I like to pretend it's only Jason and I that shoulder these horrid things. Unfortunately, it's just not true. I also know that the support you are lending to these families is going a long way in the weird combination of dark and bright days that will be their recovery. Thank you.
Now if you don't mind, all of this "feeling" is killing me and I need to go on calling people douchebags again before I remember how fragile and almost human I am.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Updated: I've Been Laying Low
Labels:
my soul,
Parenting,
You Don't Know Me
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23 comments:
Awww BB I don't know how you can be strong with a loss like that. I'm only 24 weeks and all I think about is this little boy in my belly and my life with him and I can't imagine losing him, even now, when we still have so far to go.
One of my best friend's lost his daughter 1 month after her 4 weeks premature birthday (so she died on her due date). It was 2 years ago and I know they still grieve every day for their little girl.
I can't imagine losing a child, I lost my dad, who I was very close to, when I was 19. You completely expect to lose your parents, but here I am, 11 years later, and I still grieve for him. He died this month.
So, April sucks ass.
It's all just too much. My heart aches.
Okay, now you made ME cry.
I love you babe.
While I don't know the pain and heartache you are going thru, I want you to know that you are in my thoughts. I know how hard it hits me when I see stories like this. I cannot imagine what it does for you.
Hoping you find some peace during this time. And strength.
I can't imagine. I really can't. Hope you're okay---sending hope your way via a great big giant (((((cyberhug))))).
I haven't lost a child, but my parents did. 15 years before I was born, they lost my brother. And 40 years after he passed away, I stood in the cemetery with them and witnessed their heartache like it was the first day he was gone.
And so I know that you will never fully recover from your terrible loss....but I do hope you find peace.
I am truly sorry...
my remembrance day of Tori is April 15th.
crappy day and to make things worst tax day.
Sometimes the universe just doesn't make sense....I cannot imagine what these women and yourself have gone through.
((BIG HUG))
((((HUGS))))
Losing a child is something no parent should ever have to go through. I am sorry you are. I can only imagine how all these recent tragedies just tear at your heart knowing their pain.
A dear friend of mine lost her daughter (she was only a day younger than my 2nd) 18mths ago. Her third b-day would have been last Sat. We let balloons go in her honor (you can see pics on my blog now :) ). I know how important it is to my friend that we remember her precious girl, and I am sure you feel the same way. My thoughts are with you.
Betsey,
I like you a lot. You cut to the chase and you are square with your readers.
Sorry about your loss.
IB
Betsey, you ARE remembered. You and Jason both.
I've thought of you a lot while this - Maddie, Thalon - has all been happening. Not wanting to be too close, in case you didn't want that. Cheering your going off on some douche 'cause it showed your smile.
But you are remembered, even when I keep quiet. Please don't ever doubt that.
There's a baby I never got to hold in heaven I hope has had the gift of meeting yours, and while I wish they were here, playing, screaming through the houses, and complaining that I'm probably going to throw down a peanut butter sandwich for dinner (again), I'll remember them, and I'll smile. I'll likely cry a bit, too. Still. Always. Hugs.
Booms, you know I love how tough you are. I can only imagine how grueling the recent atmosphere has been for you... The loss of a child, no matter the age, is a tragedy like no other, and it's healthy and appropriate to grieve that loss.
You own that shit, sister. And if you need to vent, I'll always have an open inbox for you. *hug*
(((hugs))
You are a beautiful person with a huge heart, and those people really are douchebags. You're HELPING them. ;)
I too have avoided the subject, even though I've been inundated with it through my network of mostly mommybloggers (but I only read the good ones, I swear!), not because of a good reason like yours, but because I don't know what to say owing to the fact that I have been very fortunate.
(And just for the record, we were always clear, but seriously, don't make fun of Mr. Clean, at least not until you read that post.
Also? Just for the record you stumbled into my product whoring, er, review blog. My other one is quite different.
Also also, since you don't have an email address shared, thanks for the comment.)
It doesn't matter when you lose them does it? I had hopes and dreams for my children the moment they announced themselves as a plus on a stick, hell probably before that. I look at my kids and I see my husband and I only better--more healthy, more loved, more balanced, more cherished, more guided, just more. I have so many hopes and dreams for them that to have to internally shift because you lose one would be beyond devestating. What do you do with it, all those things you imagined doing, milestones you imagined them getting to. I imagine it as a hole that can't ever be filled. The love of your mate and other children I'm sure makes it smaller and time will patch it up but never make it disappear. I suppose you just get up(some days maybe you don't) and put one foot in front of the other until you can do something that resembles walking again. It is a real testament to you and Jason that you traversed such a painful thing, so many couples can't make it through--too painful.
Betsey - I can't imagine living with that pain in my heart every day. I think about you a lot. I'm just in awe that you can laugh. But then I realize that for me, with my grief, I have to laugh to get through it. And my grief, I mean what I'm feeling losing my sister, doesn't compare in anyway to what you're experiencing, what all those mothers who've lost children are experiencing. I can't imagine a greater pain than losing a child. I think you are an amazing writer and person. And I admire your strength, I really do.
i love your post. i have 3 beautiful boys - and then i have the little girl that i didn't get to keep. she would have been 10 years old yesterday. she's the reason i blogged for the first time in a zillion months. thank you for sharing. :) HUGS from one angels mama to another.
I do not know how or where you get the strength you do. You're my superstar!!
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