I've come to dread the mornings and the evenings. I think its because during the day, I can keep my mind occupied or busy enough to function. With the kids, there's always something they need, can't find or an argument to break up. While I don't enjoy the bickering, the other reasons keep my mind distracted for at least a bit. It isn't the same in the early mornings or evenings.
I told Jarrett, I think I dread the mornings because the second I wake up, I realize the bad nightmare I pray every night ends, is confirmed to be our reality. All the emotions, the hurt, the sadness, the pain of losing Noah returns and I wish more than anything I could change it. Where is our happy ending?
The nights are hard too because the kids go to sleep the darkness from the outside seems to fill the house and the ache in my heart seems to grow two fold. Its the time of day when I dream of getting to hold him, of feeding him all hours of the night, of watching him grow... the things we were suppose to do in the future but now will never see.
When I learned I was pregnant, I was worried it was too good to be true. I think that was why I lived in shock, (as I wrote in my early weekly posts) for several weeks. While we were thrilled beyond our biggest dreams to find out our news, we kept is quiet, waiting patiently for the first trimester to end, that time period when the greatest "risks" of losing the baby could happen. I made myself wait to buy anything for the baby until after that first trimester and while I loved the baby from the moment we found out we had conceived, I cautiously proceeded, for it was a journey we wanted more than ever. When we finally made it to the second trimester I believed all would be well. It was then that I jumped in, my whole body, heart and mind in believing... and for as much love as I had for Noah in the first 12 weeks, my love for him multiplied in ways I never knew were possible. After sharing the news, I finally let myself buy something for Noah that was just for him... it was going to be his special gift from me.
It was going to be his 6th month photo outfit. I had it all planned out. Our boys love baseball and so does Dad. When we learned we were having a boy, I will never forget Jarrett's reaction. He smiled from ear to ear and was clearly so proud. I could see the visions forming in his head. He'd spend hours playing ball with Noah, getting him his first baseball glove, taking him to D-backs games, and spend millions of hours coaching him on and off the field. Its just like he does with Gabriel and Michael and I could tell Jarrett couldn't wait for those same moments with his 3rd son. That's why I picked out a baseball jersey... it was going to be so cute. I was going to have Gabriel and Michael wear their baseball jerseys and hats, while Isabelle wore her cute baseball dress and then there would be Noah...the four kids, our four angels.
Wouldn't it have been cute? Seeing his outfit makes me so sad. It's another aspect of losing him... grieving all the times we never got.
When I finally got out of bed this morning, I made my way to the kitchen and determined today would be the day I'd have to face the challenge of going to the grocery store. I'm not quite sure why its bothering me so much, but with no milk and the three kids begging for cereal, I knew I'd have go through another first. When I was pregnant with Noah, I despised going to the store too, I was always so nauseous, there were so many times I almost lost the contents of my stomach. My nightmare was hearing, "Clean up in aisle 11, (the seafood aisle)" and every time I made it out of the store without getting sick, I told myself good job.
I loaded up the kids and told them we were going to the grocery story. Whether bad or good, I've been pretty open about my grief with the whole family... it isn't uncommon for them to find me crying. As I buckled Isabelle into her car seat, I begged the kids..."Please be on your best behavior in the grocery store, I feel very sad about having to go here, so please please please do the right thing." My plan was to race into the store, grab the milk, the few other perishable items we needed and then to get out of there.
On our way to the store I played the song "Blessings" by Laura Story, a former high school classmate and other NICU momma (whose going to have a happy ending I pray), sent me. Jen and I went to high school together and she just happened to go into labor a week or so earlier than I did, but she was a few weeks farther along when her beautiful daughter was born. When we entered the hospital Jennifer reached out to me and everyday we've corresponded back and forth. While we hadn't talked in years, its amazing how quickly one can pick up and bond together during difficult times. In the nice card Jennifer sent us, she said the morning Noah took a turn, she heard this song on the radio on the way to see her baby girl in the NICU. She then said that evening, after Noah passed away, she heard the same song when she went home. She said she felt like she was suppose to send us the song or the CD so she did. As I listened to the song on our way, I was surprised how quiet the kids were, they were listening to the words too... it's beautiful and I encourage you to listen to it...
Laura Story "Blessings"
While hard for me to celebrate the blessings when my heart is so broken, I pray one day, I am able to say, "I see it now God, thank you." I can't imagine saying that now or ever... but maybe..I have to believe and trust right?
The kids seem to understand the way I was feeling and were on their best behavior. We grabbed the necessarily supplies and were out of there as quickly as possible. And yet my heart hurt terribly as we went to the check out. It was Cindy at the register. The one who always talks to the kids, remembers us and she was one who checked us out the last time I went to the store with all 4 kids. Yes, all four. The last time we went she had noticed I was expecting and had told me congratulations. This time there was no bump, and just three children. I tried to hide my stomach and use the filled sacks as shields to avoid the question. I hope she will forget about our conversation a month ago. I hope.
After we returned home with our groceries, the kids ate and went on about their day... they're kids... they went to play. As I cleaned up the breakfast dishes, I noticed Gabriel had helped Isabelle put on her shoes and soon enough all three were out back playing. I tidied up the kitchen and tried to find a way to ease the deep feeling of missing Noah, missing our life in the NICU. I daydreamed...what I'd give to be racing off to the hospital to be with him. It was then that I looked out back to check on the kids. This is what I saw...
As sad as I feel each morning and evening, I looked out back to see the three reasons I get out of bed each morning. Brandi had told me back in the hospital that last night, that they would be the reason I had to keep going. Looking into my backyard, I knew she was right.
I quietly opened the back blinds, snapped a few pictures to remember for myself, and closed it back shut... "Yes Angie they are the reasons you have to keep going,"- I told myself. 
As the morning went on, I was dreading 12:10 p.m. (the minute Noah died), but yet I was looking forward to 11:30 a.m.. See today, I got to go to lunch with Miss Mel, Noah's nurse. One of our friends' daughters offered to watch the kids someday, so I took her up on her offer- I'm so thankful. I couldn't wait to see Melanie, she was one of the many great nurses who took care of Noah, who took care of us. Melanie loved Noah, she said she still does, as if he was hers. From the minute she saw him, she loved him like he was her son. As a mother in the NICU feeling helpless, what more could you want from your baby's care provider? I will always love Melanie.
And I think it is because of that, our connection started. Since I've gotten to know her, I've grown to think of her as family. Conversations flow so easily and we talk like we've known each other for a lifetime. Today when I got to the restaurant, I fed the meter, 3 hours, "That should be long enough right?", I thought to myself. The minute Melanie arrived we talked non-stop. I think we could have sat there for 6 hours and still had more to discuss. Its kind of hard to describe it. We spent several days together bonding over Noah and yet, our hearts grew together in other ways as well. She told me about her family, the strong connection she had with her dad she unfortunately lost at too early and about her passion for working with children- from the PICU to the NICU. She has lived through so many things and provided care to so many children. She's had to hold children in her arms as they passed because they had no one else to hold them. I can't imagine the pain she has had to endure to give others comfort and peace. The love she has is immeasurable. She is an amazing woman... an angel on Earth. I told her I have thought of her every single day and I thank Noah for bringing her into our lives.
At one point in our conversation we realized just how long we had been siting there and that Melanie's meter was probably expired. Before getting a ticket we decided to walk to the car. With so much more to say we talked about the next time we wanted to get together and that we should plan a girls trip to Telluride. I hugged Melanie, told her I loved her, and thanked her for all she had done. I watched her get into her car and then turned to walk back to mine. It hit me then, that it was the first time in the last 14 days that I felt happy. It was the first time my mind hasn't been consumed with the loss of Noah. Yes we had talked about him, yes we relived those last 24 hours he spent in the NICU, but instead of the deep pain and sadness of his little body being too weak, we celebrated... we loved on him like Miss Mel had loved on him every minute she worked with him. For the first time since he passed, I could feel happiness back in my body...it was because of the connection Miss Melanie and I had formed back in the NICU. Noah brought us that gift. While I lost him and that void will always be there, he left me a special relationship... with her. What a special little boy he was.
Its been two weeks since my heart was shattered. The day my boy left my arms. My heart will never be the same. I wish more than anything I was celebrating him being almost a month old. Instead our milestones are measured in sad timelines.... two weeks since his death. the first time going to the store as a mother to three living children not four. I'm not sure how or if I'll ever recover from this loss. When I talked to my friend Trudi's sister, Kayla, a mother who sadly also lost a child, she said you'll never "get over this" you just learn to live with grief. Kayla also told me that in the 5 1/2 years she's lived without her precious daughter in her arms, she's learned to be thankful for the blessings grief has brought her. I hope someday I can get there, until then I'll keep getting out of bed each morning... for many reasons, but today I realized because I have three children waiting for me to be their mother here on Earth, and a new friend to build wonderful memories with.
Life these last two weeks has been horrible, its terrible, in a way no words can accurately convey... and yet I've survived; we've survived. We have to find a way. There's a reason God still has me here on Earth. Gabriel, Michael, Isabelle, Jarrett and Noah... they are the reasons I get up in the morning.
Until next time,
Angie
The baseball outfit is absolutely precious! I can't imagine how painful it must be to constantly be reminded of all that you have lost.
ReplyDeleteI am glad that your friendship with Melanie has blossomed. Being able to connect with people who understand what you are going through is so important. Maybe you would benefit from participating in a support group for grieving parents... Just a thought.