Right Where I am: 6 years, 9 months, 2 weeks and 2 years, 5 months and 2 weeks
June 10, 2012 at 5:52 pm | Posted in Grief, life lessons, Love, normal? | 11 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, death of a baby, grief, Jake, post traumatic stress disorder, Sawyer, twins
I am joining still life with circles for right where I am. Angie started this project last year. She asked other bereaved parents to write about where they were in their grief.
Am I 6 years, 9 months, 2 weeks from the last time I held Jake? Or, 2 years, 5 months and 2 weeks from the last time I saw Sawyer alive? (or I suppose it could even be the 2 or so months since the miscarriage). To be honest, I do not know where I am except right here.
I no longer cry every day. However, there is not a day which goes by that I do not think of them. Now I am answering bittersweet questions and telling their brother and sister about them.
My arms no longer constantly ache to hold them. However, the moments when they do ache are still so sharp and real. I hug their siblings just a bit tighter.
I can now talk about Jake and Sawyer without the lump in my throat threatening to choke me. However, the sadness and lost dreams are still there. Now they are part of me.
Just like the early days of this journey of grief I take it all one day at a time. I breathe. I put one foot in front of the other. I stay really busy. I try to be the best mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend and person that I can be. I do not always succeed. Sometimes I cry and the days are dark. I try to hope. I look for rainbows. I love and miss my 2 little boys. I live.
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A Mourning Mom 
here is to many more rainbows and tighter hugs for the twins…and smiles from those two gorgeous children that lead to fewer lumps and more smiles to come xxxx
Comment by stacey— June 10, 2012 #
Sometime I just don’t know what to say except I love you. xo
Comment by Kelcey— June 10, 2012 #
“the lump in my throat threatening to choke me” that line so resonates with me. We’ve both come along way and I hope we can continue to help each other along. So glad we’ve connected but I wish it were under much different circumstances.
Comment by Jessica Watson (@JessBWatson)— June 11, 2012 #
You are an incredible mother and friend and I think you’re amazing.
Comment by Daphne— June 11, 2012 #
You are an incredibly strong woman and I have so much respect for you and all you’ve accomplished in your journey of grief. You’ve managed to touch so many others. Hang in there Lanie. Sending lots of love.
Comment by Amy Johnson— June 11, 2012 #
The words that you share are so eloquent. Thanks for sharing them.
Comment by Eden— June 11, 2012 #
Such lovely words. I’m so very sorry for the loss of your two sons, Jake and Sawyer, and for your recent miscarriage. I have just been to take a little look at your boys’ photographs, such beautiful babies. I’m just deeply sad that they are not here in your arms, with their lovely brother and sister. Those bittersweet questions can be heart warming and heart breaking, both at once.
I really identified with what you wrote in a previous post about needing to keep busy because you can’t bear to think. I do sometimes wonder if, even my blogging is just another way to keep my thoughts at bay. That, somehow if I write about it enough, I won’t have to feel it?
Beautiful final paragraph, hoping and breathing and trying. Living. x
Comment by cathjw— June 14, 2012 #
I am so sorry you are missing Jake and Sawyer. Thank you for writing so beautifully of where you are. I love the way you describe going on with life and the way missing your beautiful boys is a part of that. So much love to you.
Comment by Erica— June 15, 2012 #
I am grateful to the mothers who came before me and share openly; I don’t know if I would be coping as well with my loss if I did not have a community of other Angel Mothers (and Fathers) to turn to for support. Support in the form of acknowledgement that this is something that happens to some of us, and it is difficult, and it sucks, but we survive it.
Comment by @ErinHiscocks— June 16, 2012 #
My arms no longer constantly ache to hold them. However, the moments when they do ache are still so sharp and real.
Yes – I feel this too. I am so very sorry that Jake and Sawyer are not (physically) with you as they should be and I am sorry that you have had to walk this path more than once. “I try to hope. I look for rainbows”. They are amazing things to do.
Comment by Jill (Fireflyforever)— June 18, 2012 #
This post, especially your last paragraph, really spoke to me. So sorry Jake and Sawyer are no longer with you.
Sending much love.
xo
Comment by Hope's Mama— June 22, 2012 #