Miss you

Preparations

Three years ago tonight, Austin and I were preparing ourselves for the unthinkable. We were preparing for the next day, for the death of our child. We had nothing nice enough to wear to tell him goodbye so we had to go to Dillard's quickly before we went to the hotel to find something respectable to wear. I remember how panicked I was in Dillard's after I found something to wear but couldn't find Austin. I called and called him and couldn't get him to answer his phone. I physically panicked because I couldn't find him. It was only a few minutes but I still freaked. I was so unstable, so scared, so dependent on him to be okay. I feel a little bit like that tonight. I think about how incredibly sad it is to have had to tell my newborn son goodbye, body still bleeding from the birth, breasts swollen with the milk I was trying to stop producing. Three years out and I'm still so terribly broken. Some days, like today, I feel like I won't ever be okay. The grief seems so physical still, like a heavy iron weight strapped to my body. Every year, during the 13 days he lived, I almost feel like he's alive again. I can walk through the days of his life and I can remember so clearly what each day was. Yesterday, three years ago, I held my baby boy for the first time. He was 11 days old. Today, three years ago, Austin held Andrew for the first time. We wouldn't hold him again until he was dying. But, the 13th day always comes and he dies. Every year, he dies on the 13th day. I grieve him all over again. My body hurts, my chests hurts, my heart breaks into a million unfixable pieces. Oh, baby, if I could do things over, I'd do a million things different. I don't know if I could have saved you, but I would have tired harder, sweet boy. I'm so sorry I couldn't. I'm so sorry I didn't spend every second of your too short life by your side. I love you, baby boy.

Pieces of him

My family attended Charles and Lu's Christmas pageant tonight at their church...the church where, three years ago, Andrew's memorial service was held. Thomas was antsy so we left the service to listen from the hallway. The hallway looks out onto the courtyard where the remains of past church members are buried. It's a peaceful place where we once thought of putting Andrew's ashes, where the ashes of a friends twin baby girls rest. Thinking of Andrew, I lit a candle and said a quick prayer for my beautiful boy. Immediately after, I noticed a book enclosed in glass. It is turned to 2009, the year Andrew lived and died. I then saw his beautiful name. I sometimes feel so removed, so distant from him. I feel like he was there with me tonight, giving me peace. Thanks for the nudge, baby. Momma loves you.

3 years

Hey bitty boy, Today is your third birthday. Gosh, three. What a big boy. I look at the three year olds playing on the playground some mornings when I take baby brother to daycare. I can't imagine that being you. I want to know three year old you. Insert break...today is now December 16. 10 days after your third birthday. I sat down to write your birthday post on the night of your birthday and couldn't find the words to say. I'm still not sure I have them. What do I write? I don't have anything new to say. It's the same old I miss you, I love you, I wish you were here. I guess that's all that is really left to say anymore. That's one of the saddest parts. I'll always have something new to love about little Thomas, something new to say about him on each birthday that passes. You, little love, will forever remain a newborn baby who I never really got to know. I know who you might have been through your baby brother. I know you had his drive and strong will or we wouldn't have had those 13 beautiful days with you. Happy happy happy birthday, beautiful boy. I miss you more with every breath I take.

this happy year

We're a few weeks away from Thomas' first birthday. I can't believe how fast this first year has gone. I'm sure all mommas say that, but I really can't believe it. I feel like it was just yesterday that I was sitting in Dr. Dulaney's office listening to the inane babble of the nervous, young momma beside me. I was totally prepared for her to send me to the hospital to have Thomas, but totally unprepared at the same time. I remember being so scared and fluttery inside walking into the hospital last October, hoping I'd leave a happy mother at last. This past year, I can say with all confidence, has been the happiest year of my life. I feel like an ass saying that since my sweet sister has gone through quite possibly the worst year of her life at the same time. She'll read this, understand, and forgive me. I guess the year would have been happy regardless of my past, as I learned how to be a mother. However, I think my happiness is intensified in the wake of my all consuming grief over losing Andrew. The first few weeks of Thomas' life were such an emotional roller-coaster that I've never really written about here. Austin and I were both blind-sided by a new wave of grief right after T was born. We stared in the face all that we missed. Late nights we never had, baths we never gave, tiny booties we never wiped. So so much. The fullness of our days and nights screamed at us the emptiness of the past two years. I had real trouble nursing...Thomas, as most of you know, is a big kid and therefore, a big eater. My milk didn't come in very quickly and I couldn't bear to hear him scream, I was so afraid that something was wrong with him. I know now that I was projecting my fears onto him and that I needed to relax, maybe let him cry a little and breathe. I wasn't taking care of myself, wasn't sleeping and was fretting my days away, all of which does nothing for a good milk supply. I gave in and supplemented with formula and pumped for 8 weeks. I hated hated hated the pump. It smelled like the two weeks we were in the hospital with Andrew and reminded me of everything that made my skin crawl during those two weeks. It gave me the same helpless feeling of failure and of being not enough for my babies. Again, this doing nothing for one's milk supply. I powered through thanks to my sweet baby, and my family. I still feel guilt and regret over the nursing situation, but I guess what's done is done...fretting over it won't do any good. So, the happiness...oh, the happiness. My body physically hurts sometimes when I look at my little Thomas, I love him so much. I love to mother him, would do anything anything anything for him. He's really the sweetest, most loving little strong willed baby around. He is a joy to be around and I love to watch his little mind figure things out. Every day, he learns something new and I'm completely in awe that I get to be his mother. I read something the other day on Pinterest (I'm a nerd) about mothers and sons. The thing that stuck with me said that "you will always be home to him." How wonderful to be that for someone! My heart is so full. What a crazy life...I have experienced in the last three years the happiest and the saddest years of my life. Hands down. Thomas is the deep cleansing breath that I so desperately needed in all of 2010. Many times since my precious Andrew was born, I wondered if I could make it through, whether I could take one more step, breathe one more breath. My little Thomas gave me new life. His beautiful birth birthed a new Lindsey. I feel whole again. This isn't to say that something isn't missing from my life...there will always always be a GIANT something missing. I have learned though that my new complete embraces this missing. In fact, I wouldn't be complete without it. So, I'll end as I normally do, with one simple addition. To my two sweet boys, thank you for letting me be your momma. Thank you both for teaching me how to grieve, how to heal, and how to truly love with no limits. I am so proud of our sweet family of four.

where it wanders

It's always in the car...I have time to think, to decompress, to be alone. Usually on my way home from work. My mind wanders and always ends up in the same place. Drewbie. I love that it always wanders to him, but it hurts so much too. I am realizing so much these days all that I won't ever have. I can't describe the love I feel for little Thomas...it is such an active love. It has purpose and weight...like it is an actual thing. I won't ever have that with my Andrew. It is a breathy, weightless love that doesn't have anywhere to land. I don't have anyplace to put it and so it lands on my cheeks when I cry on the way home. I realize more and more how this never ends. I think of my grandmother whose son died when he was 9...50 years ago. Does she still think of what might have been? I don't know how she couldn't. Miss you baby boy...

Thomas' place

I've started a new blog...I want to talk about my everyday life and, so far, I haven't been able to do that here. I guess if I'd kept this blog up everyday instead of only writing sporadically, I'd be able to integrate my daily life into this. I'll still write here as often as I have, but it will only be a place for my Drewbie. I'd love for you all to follow me on my new blog. www.mitchells234.blogspot.com