::pack:: of fixations



life after tragedy. living while grieving. love and triplets.

4.13.2012

Painstakingly mine

If you are anything like me, if you could go back to High School now; knowing what you now know you would be different.  You wouldn't care about what people thought about you.  I carried a lot of pain with me back then.  I thought I was fat and I was tiny.  I thought that I was homely and I wasn't.  


Ever since the accident has happened I think I've gone a step further.  I think part of my pain involves wanting to tell my old pain that they can go screw themselves because they didn't know what pain was.  I was weak.  I had it all.  I was happy.  I didn't even know what happy was.  Sometimes I wish that I would have lost him another way.  Where I had months to absorb the horrible future and remember the last time I held him... knowingly held him.  I shamefully don't remember the very last moments I, his Mother spent holding, cuddling, or talking to him.  We have a handful of wonderful friends that all had babies (all boys) the same year as Colum.  Two others were even born on the 29th of the month too.  When I was in the hospital I remember telling Ryan that there was no way I'd ever be able to be around or see them again.  How could I?  I was beyond terrified of what that would do to me.  I knew I couldn't live like that and made a decision before I left the hospital that I wasn't going to let that effect me.  I was going to be strong.  Recently, we had a gathering where a lot of them were there.  I find myself watching them.  It makes me happy to watch them, see their behavior, and hear what words they have to say.  It is hard however because I didn't plan on them getting bigger.  I didn't expect them to grow taller or advance like normal toddlers do.  I suppose because this happened to me, they are all suppose to freeze in time.... not their parents' lives, I just forgot that the 'boys' would grow bigger.  The 'boys' are growing bigger and my Colum isn't.  I didn't prepare myself for this part of it.  It's a bittersweet feeling.  I truly am so glad to have these boys that I will get to watch grow-up.  I will always know right where my Colum will be.  It makes me happy to have them around, but it will be hard to watch them grow up, because my Dove isn't growing up too.


I think lately I've been just plain frightened of the future.  I desperately want to have more children (at least one).  But, the further away I get from the accident the more I'm realizing that my life will go on, I will be truly happy, and things will go back to normal.... but there will always be a small dark cloud hovering over me.  I can't think of what comic strip it is but that's what it reminds me of.  I can see myself being pregnant and having another child or 2, but there's that cloud.  And it's a little bit terrifying to realize and except my cloud.  My cloud represents the loss, the ache, and the deadened part of my soul.  It hovers over me always.  I know Colum is my angel, my sunshine, and my dove :).  But I'm terrified that no matter how happy or how wonderful life gets, it will follow me.  I'm learning to get used to my dark cloud even though it's frightening, it's apart of me.  It's painstakingly mine now.



17 comments:

  1. kelly, when i was in high school, a close lifelong friend of mine passed in a car accident. granted we were quite a bit older, but the hardest part for me was at every step of my life, i thought, "i get to go to college and she doesn't," or "i'm getting married and she's not."

    one day many years later, her mom, of all people, said to me: "don't feel that guilt. i am so blessed and so is she. as each of you girls, her friends, do those things, she does too, and so do i."

    my prayer for you today is that same peace may find it's way to you, so that you may see collum growing along with the boys.

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  2. Kelly
    I read your blog very often. I would like share with you the excerpt from the blog of Polish lady, called "zorkownia". She lost her daughter 10 years ago, because the baby was born too early. I translated into English.

    "Ten, ten years ago, behind the walls, behind the screens, the tiled halls, was born a girl.
    Sister Thumbelina - Kilograneczka. *
    She was so tiny, and the world so much that she had to live under the bell jar, because - like a rose memorable - definitely did not like drafts.
    Kilograneczka’s paradox is this: in ten years insistently, she is only ten days.
    And instead under the bell jar – she lives in several hearts at once."

    *from 1 kilogram it means more than 2 pounds

    Kelly take care of you and your family.
    Agnieszka Mazurowska Polish friend of Liz Jagard

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  3. This is so true. I lost my 7 week old baby in July and I feel the exact same way when I look at all the babies who are now nearing a year and wonder how they got so big when I still have a newborn. It is definitely bitter sweet. I also feel the same way about having more children. There will always be a hole in your heart where column fits. Sometimes I find it hard to accept that I will never be the person I was before(so naive) and that I will always and forever miss my baby and wish he was here.

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  4. Kelly, It totally sucks that the future can be dark and scary at times. Look how far you've come! Keep pressing forward with the determination that you have shown thus far. Sending you prayers and hope!

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  5. I've never lost a child (I don't have any children yet), but I have lost my father and my brother in a car accident. My father when I was 14 and my brother this past September. In my experience, that cloud never stops following you around. You just get used to it, or it's sometimes invisible to you. Then something sparks your memory, or your heart, and it's back in your frame of vision again. It does get easier. And you will be able to find a new normal. It just unfortunately will include the cloud.

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  6. I just want to be weak, forever. Here is a scene from the movie Rabbit Hole, the dialogue illustrates this very well.

    Becca: Does it ever go away?
    Nat: No, I don't think it does. Not for me, it hasn't - has gone on for eleven years. But it changes though.
    Becca: How?
    Nat: I don't know... the weight of it, I guess. At some point, it becomes bearable. It turns into something that you can crawl out from under and... carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you... you even forget it, for a while. But then you reach in for whatever reason and - there it is. Oh right, that. Which could be aweful - not all the time. It's kinda...
    [deep breath]
    Nat: not that you'd like it exactly, but it's what you've got instead of your son. So, you carry it around. And uh... it doesn't go away. Which is...
    Becca: Which is what?
    Nat: Fine, actually.

    Hope I never have to know what that feel's like, and I'm really sad you do. The thought of losing someone I love terrifies me.

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    Replies
    1. ....exactly. I hate this. I'm already tired of the brick. But I love it at the same time.

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  7. I have not lost a child, but I did lose my best friend and my only sibling, my big brother Eric on June 3rd 2011. It has been a difficult journey and it has only just begun. I think like some of the others have said that the pain does not get easier, it gets different. You get more used to it and there becomes a "new" normal. You will always have a part of you that is no longer with you, physically, but he will always be with you and your family spiritually. I know that is not enough, that is what I have been feeling and telling people for 10 months and 10 days. IT IS NOT ENOUGH! You want to touch them, hug them, kiss them, hear their voice, hold their hand, all of it. I wish I had an answer, or some magical words to comfort you, but I don't... other than I am here for you and I continue to pray for your family every. single. night.
    Much love Kelly,
    Your friend Kelsey

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  8. 3 months after I had my first child, my sister had her first,, born on her birthday. 5 1/2 months later he died from a strain of meningitis. It was very sudden and very fast, and Dang it BABY's aren't supposed to leave us! I suffered from "survivors guilt" having a child only three months older than my sweet nephew. I can only tell you that although that dark cloud is always there, it does eventually turn to a faint gray almost white and will shine. 19 years later I find myself looking at young men wondering if he would look like him... I do it with a smile. I still cry at the drop of a hat when I hear a certain song, (You are my sunshine). I think about your family every day and pray that you will feel some comfort in your sorrow. Know that you and your family are loved, very much. I wish we could meet in person. You have all shown so much strength.

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  9. I wish I had something beautiful to say to you like some of these others, but I will tell you I heard about your story a few days after it happened. My heart is broken for you. Totally and completely forever broken!! I have a little girl who is only a week or two older than your sweet sweet colum and I think about you all the time!!! I pray for peace and comfort for you and your family. I think you are amazing in how you've handled all of this and I say to you keep going! I know you will make it through this and heal and be happy! Much love, the sharps

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  10. I do not have a story of loss to share as these other women do, but I can relate to your shame, heart break, and even anger over not being there or in both our cases physically being there but not remembering important moments in your childs life. I missed the delivery of my second twin because of a medical emergency and they put me to sleep. For months dare say years I was sad, angry that I would not be able to tell my son the feelings I had at his birth. That I missed my family and my daughter seeing him and his brother for the first time. I was the last person to see and hold my babies. And I don't even remember holding them for the first time. As time has gone on I realize that he and I experienced something much more spiritual, and that dark cloud turned into a rainbow. A knowledge of life before and after death. A love that goes on for eternity, has no begining and no end. The pain may be to much now but I believe that one day you too will look back and see the miracles big and small where he is talking to just you, his mom letting you know that it is okay, he is okay. And that he is waiting for you.

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  11. My heart hurts...
    Its completely amazing you are finding your strength and new kind of happiness. I'm jealous of and but know you definitely deserve to bask in the sun in Cabo, with two amazing kids with you.

    I think about Colum alot & of course still wearing his wrist bands. Alot of people ask me what they are about and some days I can tell your story with just a trembling voice, other times I'm overwhelmed and can barely talk..I just start to cry. I still find him in my PJ and I'm reminded of your pain daily.

    I'm so happy we met, you're so beautiful inside and out...I'm even happier that you know you are, no more searching and doubting your self..I'm working on the same things and totally follow your examples of what beauty, love and happiness are really about.

    I think its okay to allow yourself to live again, sorrowful yet happy. I think its okay you have some fleeting memory. I think you are right where you should be: in the moment.

    Enjoy your vaca!!!

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  12. I only wish I could express emotion like you do, I am one of those people who just hold everything in and break down months, sometimes years later. I hope you can find joy and peace and comfort in your own way and continue to live for him. One day you will hold him again, until then, he is closer than you know. Lots of love and prayers continually coming your way. Thank you for sharing your heart with the world, we need more people like you. You are a strength and an inspiration!!

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  13. There are days I too wish I could go back with knowing what I know now. I can't say that I understand your cloud but I think I would have one too if I lost a child. Always know that your Dove is looking down on you and will always be with all of you! I don't blame you for having those feelings about the boys because that would be very difficult for me too but I'm glad you got past that. Continue to stay along and keep writing!

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  14. I totally understand this post. I feel the exact same way. But, the longer we go, (21 months without our little girl)That cloud isn't as dark, or big. It kind of comes in and goes. I think about this article often, I just wanted to pass it along.

    http://patrickandashley.blogspot.com/2011/06/different.html

    Love,
    Ashley

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    Replies
    1. Oh Ashley, I remember reading about your precious Preslee. I live in Idaho Falls. What a beautiful baby girl. I am so sorry that she is no longer here with you. I cannot even begin to imagine your pain. Big hugs to you and your family! XOXOX

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    2. Thank you Ashley. I'm gonna put this article on my next blog post. I love it. It's perfect. I'm so sorry for you, funny how similar your blog post containing that article is to how I feel.

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