Picking Up The Pieces

"It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone" ~Rose Kennedy

I am an angel mom. I have lived the pain that most people cannot imagine. A pain, far from any pain imaginable. A pain, that changes your life forever. It has been nine months since I began this new life. It is a life far from my old one and a life I must learn to live.

I have yet to cope with this new way of living. The person I once was...is no longer. I have not been able to identify exactly who the new me is and this is something I fight with daily. I can say that the loss of my daughter has brought many positive changes to my life. I see the beauty in things I never imagined I would. The rain, once an incovience, has become the most beautiful of all things. I imagine the rain as tears falling from heaven as the angels weep for those they miss. I always tell Gabby when the rain falls, that I miss her too. The sun, so warm, reminds me of how much my daughter loved to be in the warmth of its power. It was my daughters means of seeing from the cortical blindness that affected her vision. The moon, has become my nightlight from heaven. It shines its brightness on me as my Gabby watches from above.

After losing Gabby, I never thought there would be any beauty in life, but I was wrong. The world has become more beautiful. I never imagined I would smile again, but just like the tears come, so do the smiles and laughs. I recently found myself having a good day, something I never thought could happen after Gabby left this world. The tears that once fell daily, fall less often. I still struggle with the feeling of lonlieness and it occurs quite often. I could be surrounded by many friends and family, but yet feel so alone. I envy those parents who still have their children. I envy those who get to see their child grow, laugh, play, and do the things I will never get to enjoy with my daughter. I still deal with crying spells and have accepeted the fact that they will hit me without warning and at any place. I believe these days will be a part of my new life and will last until the day I join Gabby.

I have not overcome my child's death, nor do I think I will ever overcome it. I am grateful that my bad days have lessened and I am able to smile, laugh, and see such wonderful beauty in this world. I have a long way to go on this journey but I now have hope, and that is a big step in this journey. I have began to pick up the pieces in my life and although I know I will never be able to pick up all the pieces, what little pieces I have picked up is a great start.

The Lesson: Patience

Dwight D. Eisenhower wrote "There's no tragedy in life like the death of a child. Things never get back to the way they were". Often, this quote runs through my mind as I try to piece together what remains of me after the loss of my daughter. It has been nearly eight months since I began this journey and and I frequently wonder what benefits could come from such a horrible and painful loss.

I have been blessed to meet some of the most amazing people throughout my journey. Individuals who know all too well, the pain of losing a child. These grieving parents have provided me with hope when I feel as if all hope is gone. They have provided me with strength when I feel my weakest and they have provided me with company when I feel my lonliest.

Although, my friends who've lost a child provide me and have comforted me in so many ways, they are not the only ones that I am grateful for. I will be forever grateful to friends, family, and my social network friends/family who have been by my side to comfort me. Since this journey begin (even before Gabby's passing) I have met some of the most amazing people. People who I may have never met, but feel their love from places and countries all over the world. Without the support of friends, family, and my social network group I would have never made it this far.

When you lose a child, the pain is unimaginable. Unless you have lost a child yourself, you cant begin to understand the pain that is felt. Although, I realize that no one is aware of my feelings except other grieving parents. I now realize that even those who are close to me, but have not lost a child, still feel my pain.

Today, I went to visit Gabby at the cemetery. On my way their, I was thinking about my journey. I started to get upset as I thought to myself, "why doesn't anyone ever talk about Gabby"? My previous answer to that question was, people have moved on, they have forgotten about Gabby. Then I thought to myself, I know no one has forgot Gabby. Death is an uncomfortable subject. It is a subject that is avoided at all cost. It is even more uncomfortable when it involves a loss as tragic as a child. I remember becoming upset as I brought up Gabby in conversations and watched those I was talking to begin showing signs of nervousness. You would often see a shifting in position, the person moving further away, and them no longer giving eye contact. I took it offensively, when really it was nothing more than a reaction to an uncomfortable subject. We have all dealt with the loss of someone in our life and it is never an easy subject to discuss. I have been guilty of changing the subjects during uncomfortable conversations or completly avoiding them all together. I became more engaged in my thoughts and wondered if I could be responsible for many of the reactions and why people are so scared to discuss the loss of my child. I will be the first to admit that I have been short with people who have said things that I feel are inappropriate. Perhaps it is this reaction that scares people from approaching grieving parents. There is a quote that says "Unless you have lost a child, don't tell me how to feel". Before my child died, I was a non-grieving parent who often said things that now offend me. I am guilty of saying "I need a break", "I just wish I could sleep", "I wish I had a day with no doctor's appointments". It wasn't until my child's passing that those things I once wanted, now became times I treasured and wish I still had. Many of us never anticipated losing our child, but it happened, and it could happen to anyone.

Patience is a necessity for grieving parents. We need to have the patience of all those in our lives. Allow us the time to grieve and heal. We will never heal completely and each person will grieve differently. Not only do I as a grieving parent need patience, but as a greiving mom I need to be patient to those who don't fully understand what I am going through...just not that long ago I was that person.

The Story of The Stone

On Sunday I was visiting Gabby at the cemetery. I took her a beautiful boquet of crazy daisies and sat next to her marker. The cemetery must have recently cut grass because there was some grass covering her marker. I gently took my hand and swept the grass off and was telling her the whole time, not to worry, that I would clean it up. Once all the grass was removed, I continued talking to Gabby. As I was talking to her, I was taking my pointer finger and was outlining the balloons and teddy bear on her marker. I was telling her how much I missed her and there wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think of her. I briefly removed my finger from her marker, looked up to the sky and told her that I loved her very much and that I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to deal with her loss. As I looked back down, I immediately saw this beautiful stone. It appeared in the same spot that I was outlining with my pointer finger. I immediately picked it up and grasped my hand tightly around it as I placed it next to my heart.

When you lose someone as close to you as a child, I have found that there are two things that keep me going. These two things are the belief that I know someday I will be reunited with her, and the other is believing that somehow, until we are reunited, she will always be near me. I can't be for sure if that stone was a coincidence or if perhaps it may have been a sign, but all I can say is that it is the small things like that in which keeps me going.

My Dearest Gabby

Dear Gabby,
Today it has been six months since you left. Sometimes I think I am doing ok, but then I get overwhelmed with grief and its almost impossible to function. I'm not really sure if that is ever going to change or not. There isn't a minute that goes by where I don't think of you. I find myself seeing so many little ones in public and all I do is think of what you would be doing now.

Anymore, I just find life so difficult. It is so hard to continue without you by my side. Sometimes I wonder how long it will be until I am with you again. The other day someone was predicting the end of the world and I didn't even care. I'm not sure if that is normal or not. All I do is think of being with you. Sometimes I can feel your presence, but I haven't lately. I guess you must be busy playing with all the little children in heaven.

Gabby, I think of you all the time in heaven and wonder what it must be like up there. I wonder what you are doing all the time and wonder if you ever leave me signs. I love you so much Gabby.

I have to go now, I just cant continue your letter baby.

Journey of the Bees: The Brayden Alexander Global Foundation For Hydranencephaly

http://networkedblogs.com/hVyOK

A New Life: It's Been Nearly Five Months

In just a few short days it will be five months since I entered into a new life.  A life far from my old one, a life filled with so much emotion and confusion.  A life that leaves you asking the question "why"...a question that remains unanswered. 

April 26, 2011 will mark the five month anniversary of our daughter Gabby's death.  It was and will, remain my most life altering experience.  This post is clearly about my feelings as a bereaved parent.  These are my feelings.  My feelings may be quite different then other parents suffering such a loss.  One person's grief may not be the same as others.

In the first few weeks after Gabby's passing, life was quite a blur.  It took every ounce of energy I had to get  out of bed.  I remember waking up every morning thinking, I need to feed Gabby, get her dressed, and wondered what appointments we had for that day.  It hit me like a ton of bricks when I remembered that I no longer needed to do these things.  Once, I was able to get the strength to get out of bed, I would have to find the strength to get showered and dressed.  These easy day to day routines I once took advantage of, became a chore and became very difficult.  During this time, I was surrounded by family.  Family would do everything they could to keep me active by taking me places and just being there.  At times, I wanted to be surrounded by family, then the next minute I just wanted everyone to leave me alone. 

A month after Gabby passed, was my first holiday....Christmas.  As the holiday drew closer, I wanted so much to just crawl in a hole and not come out until it was over.  The thought of a holiday where family was all together celebrating a joyous time was out of the question.  How could I be a part of a holiday function where family would be together?  There was no way, I would be able to tolerate seeing so many of the young kids opening gifts and getting so excited when my daughter was not in attendance and never would be again.  I refused to celebrate Christmas as it was just too painful.  Instead, I spent my Christmas at the cemetery talking with Gabby. 

One week after Christmas came yet another holiday....New Year's.  Once again, I became withdrawn and depressed.  A New Year was going to soon begin and it would be a New Year without my daughter to have by my side.  Once again, as people went out to celebrate the New Year and the joy and new changes that it may bring, I refused.  Instead I found comfort in just sleeping and once again ignoring the fact that another holiday had come and passed.

Faith, a topic I once found comfort in became something I questioned.  Why, God???  Why did  you take my daughter from me?  Why did you let her die??  I began to question God's motives and wondered why we lived in a world filled with so much pain and sorrow.  I began to ask the question: "If you love us so much God, then why is there so much pain in the world"?  I became so angry at people who stated that it was "God's will".  How dare they say it was "God's Will" to take my daughter.  I use to think to myself, "if it was God's Will, then I don't want any part of a God that would take a child away from their parent".  I became so overwhelmed with guilt over this topic that I found myself visiting a Priest.  I will never forget the Priest's words as he told me "It is was not God's Will to take your child.  He did not cause your child's condition, biology caused her condition.  He doesn't purposefully, nor willingly take a child from their parents.  He doesn't cause the tragedies in this world, yet he is there in the end".  At five months, I am still struggling with questions, but I have begin to find my strength once again in God. 

Lonlieness:  As my journey began, I was surrounded by so many people.  I didn't quite feel the affects of lonlieness.  As my grief progress so does the lonliness.  It is amazing how you can be surrounded by so many people, yet feel so alone in the world.  I am not sure why this feeling did not have an impact on me early on.  Perhaps, it is because in the beginning we are overwhelmed with the comfort of cards, visitors, and phone calls.  Then as time goes on, people move on and you no longer recieve the cards, visitors, or phone calls.  You begin to wonder, did everyone forget?  No one now mentions my child although the pain of losing her is still so hard.  I can't even begin to tell you how much it means to me when someone will just send me an email or a text message that simply says "thinking of you today".  Those four simple words are sometimes the words that make a horrible day into a good day.  It lets me know that I am still being thought of and so is my child.  Those little words help ease the lonliness I often feel. 

One of the hardest feelings I go through is just sadness.  Sadness, from missing her so much.  It is amazing how much I find myself thinking of Gabby.  I honestly think of her every minute of everyday.  I think about her in heaven and what she is doing.  I think about her life on earth and the good and bad times we had.  Til this day it is almost impossible to look at baby clothes or other items because of the pain it brings me of missing her.  Songs will come on the radio that will just make you burst into tears because it reminds me of her.  One of the songs I hear frequently is "The Climb" by Miley Cyrus.  I always said that was Gabby's theme song because she had so many obstacles to overcome.  Gabby and I use to listen to it often and it was even the first song that was played when you opened her blog.  It is amazing how you can be so full of smiles and having a decent day, then in a split second you are hysterically crying and screaming "Why"?  The sadness is by far the most difficult part of my grieving.  It hits often and in a split second.

Many people tell you that you will get over it, but I know I will never get over it.  I will get through it, but never over it.  I will always be forever changed and I will always go through my time of grieving.  Nearly five months into my grief and I am beginning to find that the pain does ease.  I am aware that the pain of losing my child will always be present, and that the pain will forever be a part of me.         

Thank You God

When Gabby was first born and we found out her diagnosis of Hydranencephaly, there were many questions that were asked by family, friends, and people we met throughout her life.  The question most frequently asked was "do you wish you would've known about her condition sooner"?  Til this day, my answer remains the same...."No".  Some of my most joyful times with Gabby was when I was pregnant.

Being pregnant with Gabby was the most wonderful experience in my life.  We found out at 20 weeks that we were going to be the proud parents of a beautiful baby girl.  I was on top of the world, not only was I going to be a mom, but I was having a daughter.  My dream had finally come true.  The gentle feel of her moving inside me was the most amazing feeling ever.  Mommy and Daddy would spend everynight talking to her and letting Gabby know how much we loved her and couldn't wait for her arrival.  I enjoyed all the joyous moments that expecting mothers have such as decorating her room, the baby showers, shopping for Gabby, and mostly her arrival.

Three days after Gabby was born, we found that the dreams we once had for Gabby, were now shattered by a horrifying diagnosis.  We were given no hope for our baby girl as the doctors told us not to get attached, and that she would be gone within months.  From that moment on, the joy I felt during my pregnancy was gone and was replaced with sadness and grief.  Instead of thinking of our daughter's future, all I could think about was planning a funeral.  I kept asking "why me", "why Gabby", "what did she do to deserve this".  I spent days holding her and crying and always thinking the worst.  I became so depressed and filled with anxiety that I needed medication to help me get through each day.  Everyday we feared the inevitable.  I became so obsessed with keeping her healthy that I sheltered her from life.  Rarely did she leave our home because of the fear of her getting ill.  I didn't allow her to play with other children in fear of germs, and going into public places was prohibited because I feared illness so much.

I spent all of Gabby's living years grieving for her and because of this I prohibited her from living life to the fullest.  I was selfish and didn't allow her to do many things because of my fear.  The only time I allowed her to experience life was when I was pregnant with her.  I never sheltered her while I was pregnant.  She experienced the world as I did.  I can't help but thank God for not allowing us to know sooner.  If I did, I know I would've began my grieving sooner and never enjoyed the many things I did while I was pregnant.

Special Note:  Try not to grieve the living years, be joyous for every minute your child is alive and well.  ~Jennifer Bauer