A few weeks ago while he was at Costco with Ryan, as they waited in line surrounded by other families he asked, "Dad, who took Colum?". Ryan explained to him that nobody took him, that he died. He had tears in his eyes when he quietly told me what happened and I was a little surprised when Finn asked me the same question the next day. We didn't let Finn see that his questions made us cry because I don't want him to ever feel like it's not okay to ask questions or that any of this is his fault. When I watch the funeral video and I watch as Finn is held up by my Mom and he gives his last kiss to his little blonde brother and waves his hand goodbye it just devastates me. I, his Mother can tell he doesn't really understand that this goodbye is going to be his last. Somebody told me that he was telling people that Colum was cold and he needed a blanket during the funeral. He probably just thought he was in a deep peaceful sleep. The Hope Chapel the one where his viewing was held in the hospital is right by some of the main elevators we would frequent while we lived there. Each time we passed the chapel Finn would cry out, "look there's Colum's room". I can recall one time if he asked if we could go in and see him.
During the burial, that Ryan and I couldn't attend and listened via cell-phone (although I sadly can't remember most of it because I probably passed out...yeah, I'm crying right now) a cousin stood and held Finn for most of it. She later came and told me things that Finn said regarding the funeral such as, "Why are they doing white balloons? Colum doesn't like white! They should have done a blue one or... a Spiderman one for Colum". I can't recall the other sweet things she told me they talked about because those memories are so foggy. But I'm so grateful I remember that one and I'm glad I'm typing it down so I never forget. Never forget the love my 3 yr old son had for his 18 month old baby brother who constantly pulled his hair and his input on how he thinks Colum would've liked things.
I was lucky. I'd never had anybody really close to me die before up until a year ago. It's taken me awhile to grab hold of this pain and understand what it means. Every morning is like waking up from a nightmare. Remembering what happened. My body screaming. Colum died. Telling yourself you can get through today, get through this morning, get through this week.
Some nights I don't want to fall asleep in fear of waking...
Remembering. Grieving. Re-familiarizing myself with the deep dark hole.
There's something so obvious about grief. Something I didn't understand before. As some of you may know, when you become a Mother for the first time and your baby grows out of those newborn clothes, you are so saddened. How did this happen? I just had him? I can't get that back. You're grieving what you had. You wonder if you appreciated it when you had it. Those sleepless nights feel like forever & it's never going to end but,then suddenly it's gone in the blink of an eye. But at least you have the future to look forward to you. There's always tomorrow. But, when you lose a child.
When you lose a Colum you are grieving the
& the Future.
I think Finn smiles about the past memories he has with Colum. He misses him now in the present. And looks forward to the future.
Yet the farther away Christmas '11 gets, the further away he feels. The longer its been since I held him in my arms. The longer it's been since I've brushed the snarls from the back of his head, since I've touched his soft skin, whispered in his ear, or kissed his sweet face. Memories are starting to fade; but my desires & instincts to mother him remain.
I'm trying to live more like Finn. He's only a child and yet he's already experienced something so tragic. He handles it with such grace and such courage and such love.
In the month of November I went to 3 different Dr's about my fertility. One was an OBGYN. One was, I don't know what he was but he does IVF. & the other is the one I love and I tell her I love her about 3 times each time I visit, just in case she forgot. After the accident I didn't have a period again until August. My cycles have been every 18-23 days. In the beginning I was just glad something was happening. The first Dr spoke of Luteal Phase Defects, Clomid, FSH and IUIs. The 2nd said IVF was my one & only hope. He even did an ultrasound on my ovaries and it just so happened to be on day 14 & in my right there were 3 large follicles; 1 being larger than the others. I asked him if he thought I might still ovulate and he said Oh no cause it's already day 14. The first Dr ordered a blood test for day 16 and the nurse called and said that no I didn't ovulate. Then I went to my 3rd Dr whom I love who ordered another blood test (on the correct day (21)) which indeed said yes I did. I've been ecstatic! I literally felt like doing a round-off back handspring, back-tuck right there in my kitchen to celebrate (nope, I've never done one & yeah handi-cap right). Of course this news brought with it false hope. No pink lines. All I wanted for Christmas was 2 pink lines. Just 2. I needed it. We needed it. Then it was gonna take everything to not tell Finn until February. We were gonna be due on Aug 8... It would be a gift, a gift from Colum my little dove. ...that's what was supposed to happen.
~That's the false hope, that's what hope gets you when you have infertility.
Infertility is a monster all of it's own. A monster only recognized if you've personally seen it for yourself.
I can't stop crying. I searched my house for extra Prozac last night cause I was gonna double my dose. But I didn't find any. This is hard. This is really really hard. False hope. But at least for a moment there was hope. For a moment, a little over a week I found myself looking forward towards the future.
I've done infertility before. I know infertility. But this infertility is I dare say shittier in ways. We are all waiting on me to get pregnant so somethings can be fixed hormone wise with Ryan, and so Finn can, or so I can have the chance to have 2 siblings living together under my roof again. The IVF Dr said your reproductive organs/hormones are the first thing to go when you experience extreme trauma and almost die. It's the last thing your body needs to sustain life. I went bald, and Ryan went into early man menopause.
I feel so much better just writing about this. Like now I can live in the present and not let the sadness take over. Sometimes my fingers twitch. They just want to type my thoughts. I analyze and try to make sense of this beautiful mess. Writing helps me sort through my thoughts and understand my feelings. I never ever thought I would enjoy writing. I could've seen myself in the Ice Capades before I ever thought writing would be something I very much enjoyed. Colum, he gave this to me. It's his first gift. He gave me a love for writing and he gave me all of you who care enough to read my crazy philosophies and ideas. Writing down how I feel frees me so I can go and be the Mom I want to be again.