I still hate cancer
June 18, 2015 at 11:18 pm | Posted in Grief, life after loss | 3 CommentsTags: cancer, dark days, family, life after loss, new not so normal, post traumatic stress disorder, Sad, thoughts
I am once again silent and stuck. I am hoping that writing helps. My amazing cousin’s mom was diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer and her heart is failing.
My amazing cousin’s mom and my mom are first cousins. I am heartbroken for my cousins, my mom and the fact that I feel so helpless.
i hope someone finds a cure for cancer
March 2, 2015 at 9:51 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, life after loss, Love | 9 CommentsTags: cancer, dark days, death, family, life after loss, new not so normal, Sad, thoughts
Not too long after Sawyer died, the spouses of 2 of my cousins were diagnosed with cancer. One lost her battle 2 years ago and the other lost her battle this past weekend. Having lived through Jake and Sawyer’s deaths, you would think handling death would somehow be easier (or at least not so damn hard). I feel like I should have some wise words – or some magic way to protect others from living without their loved ones. I am just not sure such magic exists. Rationally, I know that death is part of life and that we will all die at some point but dealing with it is not easy. Maybe it is not supposed to be easy. If it were easy than it would mean we did not care for or love the person.
The cousin’s wife who died recently was only in her forties and they have young children. It is not fair that their children have to grow up without their mother. I know, no one ever promised that life would be fair – but I wish it could be (even if only for a little while).
neighbors
September 15, 2014 at 10:40 pm | Posted in Grief, life after loss | 12 CommentsTags: baby loss, child loss, death of a baby, hope, miscarriage, new not so normal, Sad, thoughts
Our old neighbors stopped by the other day. They moved over a year ago and we have not seem them. We really like them and the twins played all the time with their oldest daughter. We were sad when they moved and we have missed them. So I was not prepared for my crazy mix of emotions when they drove up. Although now that I think about it, I should have been.
We were pregnant at the same time. Their 4-year-old boy happily raced up our driveway. My thoughts not so unexpectedly went to our never will be 4-year-old boy, Sawyer. And then out of the car toddled their youngest daughter. I remember her mom telling me that she was pregnant. I was so very happy for them and extra excited because I was hoping to tell them in a few weeks that we were expecting too. I never told them because I miscarried.
We caught up and watched the twins and their 3 children run around. They asked about our other neighbors. I told them about the new neighbor baby born in August and the other one born in July. I am so very happy for those neighbors too but I could feel the pit in my stomach and the familiar lump start to grow in my throat. We chatted until it was time to get their kids back in the car.
I kept it together until they drove away. I could not hold back the tears any longer. I miss Sawyer. I miss the baby I miscarried. I am happy for our neighbors but sad for us. I do not actually want their babies but seeing them makes me miss our lost children. Those feelings are so hard for me. Why can’t I just be happy for other people and not sad for who is missing from our lives?
Luckily, the twins were waiting for me to make their dinner and for that I am eternally grateful.
The Happy and The Sad
August 26, 2014 at 8:14 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, life after loss, Love | 10 CommentsTags: baby loss, bittersweet, child loss, dark days, death of a baby, hope, Jake, Jewish customs, new not so normal, Sad
The happy and the sad are so closely entwined during the month of August that I have whiplash. Jake’s birthday, my parent’s 50th wedding anniversary!!, more yahrzeits, more birthdays and tomorrow will be Jake’s death day. I know there are only so many days in a year so birthdays and anniversaries have to overlap at times but August for me has overwhelming extremes.
At 6:14 am tomorrow, it will be 9 years since we last held Jake. The day after will be the anniversary of his funeral. And all the days after that will continue to be bittersweet but maybe one day we will hold sweet Jake again.
Family Picture – August 27, 2005
Ansley’s Angel Day
July 16, 2014 at 12:14 am | Posted in Grief | 3 CommentsTags: child loss, death, grief, Sad
Glennon Melton, public speaker, author and writer of the blog Momastery, wrote the other day about a mother named Jessica and her daughter Ansley. Ansley died on July 14, 2007. No one talks to Jessica about Ansley. Jessica feels like her daughter has been forgotten and that the “world is pretending she never existed.” Glennon writes about it much more eloquently than I can in her post “This is how you stop the world.”
I wish that Jessica did not have to live in a world without her daughter. I am so very sad that Ansley died. She will not be forgotten.
The mention of my child’s name may bring tears to my eyes,
But it never fails to bring music to my ears.
If you are really my friend, let me hear the beautiful music of his name.
It soothes my broken heart and sings to my soul.
– – – Author Unknown
Four Years
December 26, 2013 at 10:48 pm | Posted in Grief, Sawyer | 11 CommentsTags: anniversaries, baby loss, child loss, dark days, death of a baby, new not so normal, perspective, Sad, Sawyer
Four years ago today is the date on Sawyer’s death certificate. Evan and I last held him on December 25th. My mind knows that time has passed. Sawyer is dead today and he will be gone tomorrow too. However, my broken heart wishes I could go back to when I took this picture and change the ending of Sawyer’s story. I have no words tonight for how much I miss that little guy.
The last picture taken of Sawyer – 12/25/09
Looking for the Happy
December 18, 2013 at 9:22 pm | Posted in Grief, life lessons | 5 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, happy, holidays, new not so normal, Sad, Sawyer, twins
The dark days of December are always accompanied by holiday parties and cheer. The people of planet earth should be celebrating and happy because as it has already been established, not everyone lives on planet my baby died.
There are more of us than there should be on planet my baby died. My heart will forever hurt for those lost and left behind in Newtown. I also know that grief is not reserved for those of us who have outlived a child. There are so many tragedies that some days, it is so difficult if not impossible to find any happy.
A very wise friend once suggested to me that I just try to find one thing I like to do every day and do it. It does not matter how small the thing is – it could even be taking a shower. So, yesterday this is what I found to make me happy . . .
Scent of Sawyer
July 14, 2013 at 1:02 pm | Posted in Grief, life lessons, Sawyer, venting | 9 CommentsTags: baby loss, death of a baby, gratitude, life after loss, Method Baby Products, new not so normal, Sad, Sawyer, scent, thoughts
One of the lessons that Jake and Sawyer have taught me is not to sweat the small stuff. In the grand scheme of things there is so much stuff that just does not matter in the end.
This post, however, is about small stuff. Method has discontinued their line of babies and kids products. I know that there is most likely a business reason why the line did not make it. However, I just wish they could bring the product line back. We have used their products (body wash, shampoo, lotion, laundry detergent and dryer sheets). We used a particular scent — rice milk and mallow — with Sawyer. We all loved the smell, and appreciated that they were natural products with nothing to harm Sawyer’s (or any of our) skin.
The smell of the products reminds me of Sawyer. So, after he died, we continued to use the products. The frequent and sweet reminder of him in the smell of our clothes or at the twins’ bath time is, in a way, comforting. Now the product line has been discontinued, and it is hard to find the products anywhere. I am sure that at some point, we won’t be able to find them at all anymore.
One more small bit of Sawyer that will no longer be in our lives. Yes, it is a small thing. But it is one more small thing I wish I could change.
And, a giant thank you to Evan for finding me some of the last of the bottles on eBay!
Reality Bites
January 8, 2013 at 10:54 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, mourning, normal? | 9 CommentsTags: child loss, grandparents, grief, holidays, life after loss, new not so normal, Sad, thoughts
Today it has been 1 week since I held my grandfather’s hand as he took his last breaths. He is no longer suffering. The funeral is over. He was 100. His death was not a shock. Death is part of life. I repeat these statements to myself several times a day. So, why do I still feel like I am walking around in an alternate universe?
Evan, the twins and I have returned to work, school and life in general.
People ask “How were your holidays?” I want to scream, my grandfather died on New Years Day. Sawyer died the day after Christmas 3 years ago. I officially hate the holidays!!! However, I instead take a deep breath and respond, “Fine, how were yours?”
My thoughts are scattered. It took me less than 1 day to lose the new insurance card Evan handed to me. I got lost driving somewhere I go almost every week.
I am figuring out another new normal.
Doctors & Dreams
December 2, 2012 at 9:48 pm | Posted in after death?, Grief, Love, normal? | 10 CommentsTags: baby loss, child loss, dark days, death of a baby, new not so normal, perspective, quotes, Sad, Sawyer, unexplainable
Dear Sawyer,
Three years ago we had your 2 week check up with the pediatrician. You did fantastic. You were gaining weight. You were eating. You were sleeping. All seemed to be going well. Was there something that we missed?
The doctor told us that you were perfect. We even scheduled your 2 month check up in January of 2010. As you know, we did not make it to that appointment.
I try not to imagine what you would be like as a 3-year-old. I know that I should just mourn the loss of you as a baby. It only makes it more painful to grieve the losses of all the other stages you sadly never reached. Good night baby boy. I love you. I miss you. As always, I will look for you in my dreams.
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