Dear Brody,
Geez, those words are enough to make me cry already. I have been wanting to write you a letter since you left to go Home, but I could never bring myself to do it. First of all, I was afraid I couldn't do it without opening up the flood gates and secondly, well, the fact that you will never actually read it hurts my heart in a whole different way.
Over at Faces of Loss, a place that I have become very familiar with, Kristin Cook has suggested that we do this very thing that had me shaking in my boots and got my knees knocking. This is part of her Create, Heal, Inspire assignment and is a great way for grieving mothers to express our feelings. Here I go...
I don't know exactly where to begin and I realize that this may all be familiar to you because I feel you around me all the time. I know you hear me speaking to you in the privacy of my bedroom and in the quiet tranquil moments in the bath tub. I feel you smile when the sun shines on my face and feel embraced when the wind blows. I know you are all around and even still inside me in many ways too. Your previous home is still my womb, which I carry with me everyday and the memories of you and your face are in my heart forever. I look in the mirror and see your precious face, I look at Daddy and you are there too.
I'm positive you saw how difficult the holidays were for Daddy and I. We lit your candle and kissed your picture, I'm sure you know that too. I never expected for Christmas to be hard, I mean it's not as if you were ever here to celebrate with us before. It was the future memories that have been ripped away from us that we were mourning I suppose. I pictured you at Grandmas playing with your cousins and being passed around from aunt to aunt at Daddy's Grandma's house. Those images were difficult to picture yet I couldn't remove them from my mind. I never realized that I could miss someone so very much, especially someone that I had never actually met.
2011 was filled with so many emotions, so many ups and downs. When Daddy and I found out we were expecting you, we were scared, we were excited, we were nervous, and every emotion in between and around. The time that you were with us was amazing and I wouldn't trade one second, not even the most dreadful one. Holding you was the best and worst moment of my life tied into one. 2011 was filled with so much hope and so much joy, yet often overshadowed by so much grief and so much despair. I wanted the year to be gone but I wanted it to stay forever. I wanted to hold on to the year that you existed but I wanted to let go of the year you died.
Brody, I love you like I have never loved before. I love you for inspiring others even though you never met them, I love you for re introducing me to my passion for writing and creating. You have made me one proud mother and have taught me so many things that I could have never taught myself. I wish you were here instead. I wish I could love you in a different way, with kisses on the forehead and lullaby's at night or all day long for that matter. I wish I could show you I love you with feedings at 2am and soft caresses on the back of your head as I rock you to sleep. The realistic part of me pulls me back from those wishes and realizes that while I can wish all day everday, those are wishes that can never come true.
I vowed from the moment we found out you were on your way to be the very best mom I could be and I never want you to think that just because you are gone that I will break that vow. I will never deny that you existed and I will always speak your name. I will find new ways to honor you and remember you. I will make you proud everyday that I'm here and not with you.
As much as I don't want to say goodbye to 2011 and to you, 2012 is already here and I know you have already started guiding me in the direction I need to go. You have been gone for almost five months now. Somedays it feels like yesterday, somedays I feel like it's been years.
I'm sure I will finish this post and realize I forgot to say everything I wanted to or regret not taking more time to write it, but, baby, all I really want you to know is that there is not a second that goes by that you are not in my mind and in my heart. I know you hate to see me cry because where you are, tears don't exist, but the fact that He needed you more than me hasn't exactly been something I have come to terms with and I'm not sure I ever will.
I love you and I miss you.
Love, Mommy
P.s. Thanx for saving my life.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Brody's Project Reflection
Hi Everyone! I have been going through severe withdrawal from my computer. I took it to get fixed yesterday because it was barely even turning on. It is home now but I'm not convinced it is "all better". Anyway, it feels good to be able to type on here. I'm hoping I'm not the only one who missed Brody's Frog Blog.
I promised a reflection on the responses to Brody's Project the first week of January and I was getting a little scared that I might not be able to keep the promise, but here it is...
I received approximately fifteen responses. I was so grateful to hear from you all. I heard from best friends, I heard from strangers, I heard from acquaintances, and I heard from fellow BLMs (Baby Loss Mothers). I term I wish I was unfamiliar with.
The majority of you with children said that Brody has made you really appreciate the precious moments with your babies and children, even when it gets really tough. I was expecting to hear this and I'm always glad when I do. It makes me proud of Brody. There is nothing that makes me more angry than watching the news and hearing about yet another child abused or neglected, or even worse, so when I hear about loving mommies holding their babies a little tighter or longer, kissing them a little more, or just stopping to realize what a miracle it is just to have that baby in their arms makes me smile. To know that they are possibly thinking about Brody when they are doing those things, makes me realize what an impact he has made on so many lives.
I knew I would be hearing from other mothers who have experienced loss. I heard a few new stories and was reminded of ones that I was already aware of. There is a connection between these women that is unwanted and yet so welcoming. The stories are sad to say the least. They make you realize that you are not alone, even though alone is feeling you become very familiar with when losing a child. You start thinking about what is worse, the fact that your alone or the fact that your not. The realization that this happens way more than you could ever imagine is haunting. The stories of baby loss are like that word that you have never heard before and then one day you hear it and then you hear it everyday for three consecutive days, you know what I mean? Baby loss is not something that you think about everyday, but then it happens to you and then people start coming out of the woodwork to tell you their stories of their sisters, their best friend, themselves. Each story becomes comforting in a way yet makes you shed new tears for each and every one of them, each and every baby that welcomed yours.
I received e-mails from friends explaining how much they loved Brody even though they never really got to meet him. Some explained how they think of him as an angel now, looking down on us all from heaven and helping us through what has become our hell. I heard from from a friend that has recently became a great friend, a friend that I'm not positive would be this close if I had not lost my son. Another friend explained that she realized that she needs to stop wishing her life away because you just never know what can uplift your world and turn it upside down in an instant.
Today, while I was reflecting on all the messages and e-mails explaining how my son has impacted lives, I couldn't help but remember someone I met a long time ago. It was about 9 years ago and I was at a restaurant/ bar. I sat down beside an older woman with gray hair, decked out in old glam costume jewelry and reeking of old lady perfume. She stared at me like I was from outer space and had a look in her eyes like she could read my mind. It was strange, to say the least. She proceeded to tell me things about my life and while I wasn't quite sure at the time if I believed in that type of thing, I was intrigued. The last thing she told me was that I would have a little boy someday and that he would be very special.
Special? The thought crossed my mind after I peed on the stick, what did she mean? Would he need special attention? I was up for that, I could love any child God decided to give me so I wasn't afraid of what special meant. I still don't know if I believe in fortune tellers, but I know I don't believe in coincidences and I do believe my son is very special.
I could go on and on about what Brody has done for me. Don't get me wrong, I wish so badly I was teaching him instead of him teaching me but it's just not the case and no tears or begging will change that, believe me, I've tried.
Before Brody died, I hadn't wrote in years. A passion I have had as long as I can remember and it was no longer a part of my life. I used to make things, I used to day dream, I used to paint and draw and wear things that made no sense to anyone. Somewhere along the way, I became ashamed of that person and tried not to be her for some reason. Brody has brought those things back to me in a way I cannot explain. I almost hit the ground running when he died...almost. I mean, it's still early and I still feel like I just stood up, brushed the dust off of my knees and I'm looking around at which direction to run, but still, I am up for running. I'm not just gonna stay on the ground and lay there, I'm gonna run! I can almost hear him say "Mommy, just be you, just run".
Thank you everyone who responded and I hope to keep hearing from all of you. I hope this was only a start to what Brody inspires me and you to do. I hope to include all of you with all of my endeavours with this unwanted journey that I'm taking alone...but not alone.
This is what I will be working on for the next post. If you all are not familiar with Faces of Loss, please head on over there and check it out. The girl who started it, Kristen Cook, is nothing short of amazing in my eyes and sooooooo inspiring! On the link above, she explains the contest she is holding for this month for bloggers, this is what the next post will be about so stay tuned...
I promised a reflection on the responses to Brody's Project the first week of January and I was getting a little scared that I might not be able to keep the promise, but here it is...
I received approximately fifteen responses. I was so grateful to hear from you all. I heard from best friends, I heard from strangers, I heard from acquaintances, and I heard from fellow BLMs (Baby Loss Mothers). I term I wish I was unfamiliar with.
The majority of you with children said that Brody has made you really appreciate the precious moments with your babies and children, even when it gets really tough. I was expecting to hear this and I'm always glad when I do. It makes me proud of Brody. There is nothing that makes me more angry than watching the news and hearing about yet another child abused or neglected, or even worse, so when I hear about loving mommies holding their babies a little tighter or longer, kissing them a little more, or just stopping to realize what a miracle it is just to have that baby in their arms makes me smile. To know that they are possibly thinking about Brody when they are doing those things, makes me realize what an impact he has made on so many lives.
I knew I would be hearing from other mothers who have experienced loss. I heard a few new stories and was reminded of ones that I was already aware of. There is a connection between these women that is unwanted and yet so welcoming. The stories are sad to say the least. They make you realize that you are not alone, even though alone is feeling you become very familiar with when losing a child. You start thinking about what is worse, the fact that your alone or the fact that your not. The realization that this happens way more than you could ever imagine is haunting. The stories of baby loss are like that word that you have never heard before and then one day you hear it and then you hear it everyday for three consecutive days, you know what I mean? Baby loss is not something that you think about everyday, but then it happens to you and then people start coming out of the woodwork to tell you their stories of their sisters, their best friend, themselves. Each story becomes comforting in a way yet makes you shed new tears for each and every one of them, each and every baby that welcomed yours.
I received e-mails from friends explaining how much they loved Brody even though they never really got to meet him. Some explained how they think of him as an angel now, looking down on us all from heaven and helping us through what has become our hell. I heard from from a friend that has recently became a great friend, a friend that I'm not positive would be this close if I had not lost my son. Another friend explained that she realized that she needs to stop wishing her life away because you just never know what can uplift your world and turn it upside down in an instant.
Today, while I was reflecting on all the messages and e-mails explaining how my son has impacted lives, I couldn't help but remember someone I met a long time ago. It was about 9 years ago and I was at a restaurant/ bar. I sat down beside an older woman with gray hair, decked out in old glam costume jewelry and reeking of old lady perfume. She stared at me like I was from outer space and had a look in her eyes like she could read my mind. It was strange, to say the least. She proceeded to tell me things about my life and while I wasn't quite sure at the time if I believed in that type of thing, I was intrigued. The last thing she told me was that I would have a little boy someday and that he would be very special.
Special? The thought crossed my mind after I peed on the stick, what did she mean? Would he need special attention? I was up for that, I could love any child God decided to give me so I wasn't afraid of what special meant. I still don't know if I believe in fortune tellers, but I know I don't believe in coincidences and I do believe my son is very special.
I could go on and on about what Brody has done for me. Don't get me wrong, I wish so badly I was teaching him instead of him teaching me but it's just not the case and no tears or begging will change that, believe me, I've tried.
Before Brody died, I hadn't wrote in years. A passion I have had as long as I can remember and it was no longer a part of my life. I used to make things, I used to day dream, I used to paint and draw and wear things that made no sense to anyone. Somewhere along the way, I became ashamed of that person and tried not to be her for some reason. Brody has brought those things back to me in a way I cannot explain. I almost hit the ground running when he died...almost. I mean, it's still early and I still feel like I just stood up, brushed the dust off of my knees and I'm looking around at which direction to run, but still, I am up for running. I'm not just gonna stay on the ground and lay there, I'm gonna run! I can almost hear him say "Mommy, just be you, just run".
Thank you everyone who responded and I hope to keep hearing from all of you. I hope this was only a start to what Brody inspires me and you to do. I hope to include all of you with all of my endeavours with this unwanted journey that I'm taking alone...but not alone.
This is what I will be working on for the next post. If you all are not familiar with Faces of Loss, please head on over there and check it out. The girl who started it, Kristen Cook, is nothing short of amazing in my eyes and sooooooo inspiring! On the link above, she explains the contest she is holding for this month for bloggers, this is what the next post will be about so stay tuned...
Friday, December 30, 2011
Nothing spectacular
I haven't written in some time now and there are a few reasons for that 1) Christmas was rough, to say the least, 2) Right after Christmas, I was ever so blessed with the flu that put me down for 2 days, and 3) My computer is ill too. It conveniently just shuts off at random and it takes at least seven times of turning it on to actually...turn on.
For those of you that are wondering, The Christmas spirit never came. No surprise here, I stopped searching and expecting. I even got a little grinchy, I found myself rolling my eyes at a woman at Subway for telling other customers that "This was her favorite time of year", "Who am I?", I asked myself. By the time Christmas Day arrived, I kept thinking that I just wanted it to be over. Don't get me wrong, I loved being around family and friends and that is probably what kept me going but there were times I just wanted to exit and climb back into bed and sleep till the new year.
I wish I had some amazing post today, something creative, some sort of quirky analogy or maybe even some humor, but I have nothing of the sort to give you guys and I'm sorry for that. Truth be told, I usually only write on my good days. I leave the bad days for reflecting and gathering my thoughts together but today is a bad day. On days like this, it becomes difficult to even explain to myself how I'm feeling let alone put it into words for everyone else but of course I'm gonna give it my best shot...
Today, I don't know if I'm coming or going, I'm up then I'm way down and even sideways. It's one of those days I could drive to the grocery store with tears in my eyes, get there and do all my shopping, come home and put them all away then sit down and not remember doing any of it. Days like these are like figments of your imagination but ironically so real and raw that all the tears you own aren't enough. One minute, you tell yourself there is no point in crying because it wont bring your baby back but the next minute when you find yourself dropping things like its an Olympic sport and your wearing the gold, you cry. You cry like that remote or cell phone on the floor was your most prized possession. You might even believe yourself when you blame your tears on your clumsiness instead of the fact that your baby is gone.
Everyday is different with grieving. Everyday you are a different person. You have to become familiar with the different kinds of days and acquaint yourself with them and learn what is good and bad on those specific days. I learned very recently that on days like today, even though drinking a bottle of wine seems like the answer, it most certainly is not. You will find yourself drunk and miserable, listening to rap music that you don't even like, and perhaps finding a unfamiliar dark side of yourself that isn't pretty or helpful in the process. If you are lucky like me and have amazing friends, one of them might come to your rescue. If not, just avoid Alcohol in general.
So, while I realize that none of my blog posts are Pulitzer material, I do sincerely apologize for this one and my lack of creativeness.
By the way, Only a 2 days left for Brody's project! Have a Happy New Year everyone!
For those of you that are wondering, The Christmas spirit never came. No surprise here, I stopped searching and expecting. I even got a little grinchy, I found myself rolling my eyes at a woman at Subway for telling other customers that "This was her favorite time of year", "Who am I?", I asked myself. By the time Christmas Day arrived, I kept thinking that I just wanted it to be over. Don't get me wrong, I loved being around family and friends and that is probably what kept me going but there were times I just wanted to exit and climb back into bed and sleep till the new year.
I wish I had some amazing post today, something creative, some sort of quirky analogy or maybe even some humor, but I have nothing of the sort to give you guys and I'm sorry for that. Truth be told, I usually only write on my good days. I leave the bad days for reflecting and gathering my thoughts together but today is a bad day. On days like this, it becomes difficult to even explain to myself how I'm feeling let alone put it into words for everyone else but of course I'm gonna give it my best shot...
Today, I don't know if I'm coming or going, I'm up then I'm way down and even sideways. It's one of those days I could drive to the grocery store with tears in my eyes, get there and do all my shopping, come home and put them all away then sit down and not remember doing any of it. Days like these are like figments of your imagination but ironically so real and raw that all the tears you own aren't enough. One minute, you tell yourself there is no point in crying because it wont bring your baby back but the next minute when you find yourself dropping things like its an Olympic sport and your wearing the gold, you cry. You cry like that remote or cell phone on the floor was your most prized possession. You might even believe yourself when you blame your tears on your clumsiness instead of the fact that your baby is gone.
Everyday is different with grieving. Everyday you are a different person. You have to become familiar with the different kinds of days and acquaint yourself with them and learn what is good and bad on those specific days. I learned very recently that on days like today, even though drinking a bottle of wine seems like the answer, it most certainly is not. You will find yourself drunk and miserable, listening to rap music that you don't even like, and perhaps finding a unfamiliar dark side of yourself that isn't pretty or helpful in the process. If you are lucky like me and have amazing friends, one of them might come to your rescue. If not, just avoid Alcohol in general.
So, while I realize that none of my blog posts are Pulitzer material, I do sincerely apologize for this one and my lack of creativeness.
By the way, Only a 2 days left for Brody's project! Have a Happy New Year everyone!
Monday, December 19, 2011
Christmas spirit, where are you?
Hello There Readers! I'm going to be extending Brody's Project in hopes that I get at least a few more responses. I know everyone is busy with this whole Christmas thing going on so I don't expect anyone to put a hold on their wrapping, cooking, and family time to e-mail me.
I will extend until after both holidays, Christmas and New Years and try to have the blog post up at the beginning of the new year. Maybe every one's responses will help me to enter the new year with new hopes and new dreams for our future and possibly just maybe even hopes for a brother or sister for Brody.
I will make the deadline January 1st and try to have up the post with in a week. Once again my e-mail address is tiagiardino@yahoo.com. Thank you to everyone who has responded already and to everyone else in advance.
On a side note, I'm finding it difficult to get in the Christmas spirit. Maybe some of you don't know what I'm talking about when I say Christmas spirit. For me, it usually occurs when I'm decorating my tree with music in the background and I get a warm and fuzzy feeling inside knowing Christmas day is on it's way. I talked to Adam about it and he attributes it to the slightly warmer weather. I thought maybe it was that I was getting older or that I haven't gotten the chance to see Home Alone on television yet.
The truth is I know it's not the weather, lack of Christmas movies, or my age. I know it's because my heart is broken. I know it's because instead of shopping for my Brody and singing him all my favorite Christmas songs, I'm making him a shrine in the corner of my home complete with a stuffed teddy bear with his name on it, a candle with a "B" on it to light on Christmas Eve, an angel statue, and a wonderful tree made out of frog ribbon gifted to me by a new and dear friend.
My house is decorated, my tree has been up for weeks, all the gifts are wrapped, and I've even tried to make this year a little different and special by hand making the majority of my gifts . I've even tried baking to see if the Christmas spirit was lost somewhere in pudding cookies or chocolate covered oreos, no such luck though.
I guess there is some kind of "moral of the story" here. Some sort of Dr. Seuss "happy ending" in realizing that the Christmas spirit can't be found in presents, gifts, or decorations. It can only be found inside of you, inside of your heart. But, what happens when you feel empty inside and your heart is broken, where is the Christmas spirit to be found then? How can you search for the Christmas spirit when you are decorating not only a tree but the grave of your first born child?
So as the snow was falling the other day and Adam and I sat down to watch Christmas movies on the couch and not a spec of Christmas spirit was felt or in sight, I found myself asking "Where are you Christmas?"
"Where Are You Christmas"
I will extend until after both holidays, Christmas and New Years and try to have the blog post up at the beginning of the new year. Maybe every one's responses will help me to enter the new year with new hopes and new dreams for our future and possibly just maybe even hopes for a brother or sister for Brody.
I will make the deadline January 1st and try to have up the post with in a week. Once again my e-mail address is tiagiardino@yahoo.com. Thank you to everyone who has responded already and to everyone else in advance.
On a side note, I'm finding it difficult to get in the Christmas spirit. Maybe some of you don't know what I'm talking about when I say Christmas spirit. For me, it usually occurs when I'm decorating my tree with music in the background and I get a warm and fuzzy feeling inside knowing Christmas day is on it's way. I talked to Adam about it and he attributes it to the slightly warmer weather. I thought maybe it was that I was getting older or that I haven't gotten the chance to see Home Alone on television yet.
My house is decorated, my tree has been up for weeks, all the gifts are wrapped, and I've even tried to make this year a little different and special by hand making the majority of my gifts . I've even tried baking to see if the Christmas spirit was lost somewhere in pudding cookies or chocolate covered oreos, no such luck though.
I guess there is some kind of "moral of the story" here. Some sort of Dr. Seuss "happy ending" in realizing that the Christmas spirit can't be found in presents, gifts, or decorations. It can only be found inside of you, inside of your heart. But, what happens when you feel empty inside and your heart is broken, where is the Christmas spirit to be found then? How can you search for the Christmas spirit when you are decorating not only a tree but the grave of your first born child?
"Where Are You Christmas"
Where are you Christmas
Why can't I find you
Why have you gone away
Where is the laughter
You used to bring me
Why can't I hear music play
My world is changing
I'm rearranging
Does that mean Christmas changes too
Where are you Christmas
Do you remember
The one you used to know
I'm not the same one
See what the time's done
Is that why you have let me go
Christmas is here
Everywhere, oh
Christmas is here
If you care, oh
If there is love in your heart and your mind
You will feel like Christmas all the time
I feel you Christmas
I know I've found you
You never fade away
The joy of Christmas
Stays here inside us
Fills each and every heart with love
Where are you Christmas
Fill your heart with love
Why can't I find you
Why have you gone away
Where is the laughter
You used to bring me
Why can't I hear music play
My world is changing
I'm rearranging
Does that mean Christmas changes too
Where are you Christmas
Do you remember
The one you used to know
I'm not the same one
See what the time's done
Is that why you have let me go
Christmas is here
Everywhere, oh
Christmas is here
If you care, oh
If there is love in your heart and your mind
You will feel like Christmas all the time
I feel you Christmas
I know I've found you
You never fade away
The joy of Christmas
Stays here inside us
Fills each and every heart with love
Where are you Christmas
Fill your heart with love
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
hmmm, what to wear?
Everyday, women everywhere choose what to wear that day. It may be deciding on what to wear to work or just deciding what clothes are most comfortable to lounge around in.
Everyday, I feel like I'm going to a big event and I have to make a choice. Will I wear the bright polka dot dress or the old faithful black dress? The event is life and the choice isn't always easy.
The bright polka dot dress is so positive and joyful. The accessories include nothing but a smile. It has become that dress that you see and love but just know it looks better on the model and your body shape and size could never pull it off. I wore it the entire time I was pregnant and I never wondered how it looked because I knew it made me feel beautiful and that is all that mattered. The polka dot dress has a bright outlook into the future and welcomes the thought of future children with open arms and an open heart.
The black dress is dark and dreary. It's comfortable and sad, but it draws you in. On the outside, it really just looks like a regular LBD but the appearance is very deceiving. It may look like it pulls you in in all the right places and hides all the flaws but underneath you are still out of shape, you are still grieving. There are times I try on the polka dot dress, dance around in it for a little but find myself feeling guilty for trying and I know it just isn't going to work that day. The sadness becomes like a vacuum, sucking me in, and not giving up on the fight. Those are times that I know I have fought too long, I've been smiling and staying positive for a week now and it has somehow weakened my soul. I miss the tears and I miss my son and I just want to let it all out.
On Saturday, I put on a literal black dress and attended my husband's company Christmas party. I'm sure we appeared like things were getting back to normal for us, but Brody was on my mind the entire evening. His necklace was around my neck and his name etched in my heart. Adam wore the pants that he wore the day we buried Brody.
For the first time, we encountered someone who knew we were pregnant but had no idea that Brody was gone. From across the way, he shouted the the four words I have been dreading to hear for months..."How is the baby?" I looked at my husband, we were both searching for an answer and wondering what was appropriate to shout out loud without offending anyone around. Adam answered "It's a long story", The guy just looked at us. I lowered my head and walked away. I don't know what he thought to himself or if he figured it out in that moment. I wanted nothing more than to tell him that our baby was home with his Grandma babysitting him and this was Mommy and Daddy's first night out without him.
Everyday, I make a choice. Usually I am very positive and I know life is too precious to give up on, so I put on the polka dot dress and I wear it with pride. It does get uncomfortable and I tug at it and I adjust the length. There are moments I wish I would have put on the black dress instead but I know this bright colored one will take me places the black dress will not.
I'm almost four months in now and I cannot tell you things are better, but I can say it is getting easier to live with the unanswered questions that I know I will never have an answer to. Good days come more often and my tears are less abundant. There are still days that make me think that being pregnant for almost eight months and not having a baby in your arms is kinda like getting all dressed and having no where to go.
Everyday, I feel like I'm going to a big event and I have to make a choice. Will I wear the bright polka dot dress or the old faithful black dress? The event is life and the choice isn't always easy.
The bright polka dot dress is so positive and joyful. The accessories include nothing but a smile. It has become that dress that you see and love but just know it looks better on the model and your body shape and size could never pull it off. I wore it the entire time I was pregnant and I never wondered how it looked because I knew it made me feel beautiful and that is all that mattered. The polka dot dress has a bright outlook into the future and welcomes the thought of future children with open arms and an open heart.
The black dress is dark and dreary. It's comfortable and sad, but it draws you in. On the outside, it really just looks like a regular LBD but the appearance is very deceiving. It may look like it pulls you in in all the right places and hides all the flaws but underneath you are still out of shape, you are still grieving. There are times I try on the polka dot dress, dance around in it for a little but find myself feeling guilty for trying and I know it just isn't going to work that day. The sadness becomes like a vacuum, sucking me in, and not giving up on the fight. Those are times that I know I have fought too long, I've been smiling and staying positive for a week now and it has somehow weakened my soul. I miss the tears and I miss my son and I just want to let it all out.
For the first time, we encountered someone who knew we were pregnant but had no idea that Brody was gone. From across the way, he shouted the the four words I have been dreading to hear for months..."How is the baby?" I looked at my husband, we were both searching for an answer and wondering what was appropriate to shout out loud without offending anyone around. Adam answered "It's a long story", The guy just looked at us. I lowered my head and walked away. I don't know what he thought to himself or if he figured it out in that moment. I wanted nothing more than to tell him that our baby was home with his Grandma babysitting him and this was Mommy and Daddy's first night out without him.
Everyday, I make a choice. Usually I am very positive and I know life is too precious to give up on, so I put on the polka dot dress and I wear it with pride. It does get uncomfortable and I tug at it and I adjust the length. There are moments I wish I would have put on the black dress instead but I know this bright colored one will take me places the black dress will not.
I'm almost four months in now and I cannot tell you things are better, but I can say it is getting easier to live with the unanswered questions that I know I will never have an answer to. Good days come more often and my tears are less abundant. There are still days that make me think that being pregnant for almost eight months and not having a baby in your arms is kinda like getting all dressed and having no where to go.
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Freddy has nothing on Pregnancy
Ever since I can remember, I've had a total irrational fear of Freddy Krueger. Yes, I realize that I'm coming up on thirty years of age, but till this day, if I see a costume or even see the movie on the guide channel on t.v., I quickly turn away and remind myself that it is only Robert Englund doing his job. My mother can attest to many a sleepless nights due to this character who single handily tainted my childhood with images of his bladed hands flashing in front of his face all while smirking and making me feel like I was next to be drug up and down the walls of my bedroom and covered with blood that no one else could see but me.
These days, I find myself dramatically pushing the up and down button on my remote and turning away when I hear "Kortney Kardashian is pregnant (oh the horror), Beyonce is craving ketchup( oh my gosh), and Jessica Simpson is showing off her baby bump( I'm now sweating like I've had a nightmare)". Blah blah blah, I say to myself. I've trained myself to put it off like I don't care and don't want to hear about it but the truth is, pregnancy scares me to death. It scares me like Freddy did years ago. I'm that little girl again looking under my bed before I go to sleep, making sure he isn't under there just waiting for me to lay down so he can take his sharp fingers through my mattress and then through my body.
I could be in a serious conversation, very focused on the lips and eyes of my friend and soaking up all the words and giving my complete attention, but yet I could hear the words "pregnant" or "baby" from across a room. They stick out like the "f" word in church on Sunday. My eyes get wide like Freddy walked in and sat down beside me. I can feel my heart rate increasing and chills up my spine.
I have tried to avoid pregnant friends and I'm not proud of that fact. That is not me. I love people and being around them, pregnant or not. It's not because I'm jealous or I hate them for being pregnant. I don't avoid them because they have something I used to have and I hold that against them, it's quite the opposite actually. Deep down, I am so very happy for them and the joy they are about to experience but the new cautious and fearful me knows pregnancy doesn't always end in joy. I know first hand that things can go horribly wrong. It scares me to hear someone is pregnant, they have put on the freddy mask and shouted "boo" in my face. I don't want to scare them with my presence, I don't want to be that very real reminder that it is all too possible that they will never take their baby home and hold them in their arms...alive. What if my presence becomes awkward, what if this fear becomes as irrational as looking behind the shower curtain for Freddy before I sit down to pee. What if me being so close to the baby makes me contagious, contagious of baby loss, what if I spread it around like influenza in between seasons.
When I find out another friend of mine is pregnant, I instantly start praying "Please God, please don't make them go through this, please protect them from this pain, please God, let this baby make it and be healthy and alive, please, please, please". I beg him as if His plans weren't already in place, as if my prayers will change His puzzle and move this piece a little to prevent any further empty arms.
To be completely honest, Freddy Krueger still scares me. He still gives me chills and wide eyes but he has nothing on pregnancy. I would actually choose to go have dinner with Freddy, a glass a wine or two, and have him walk me home in the dark given the choice between that and losing a child.
What is worse is that I don't want to be the reminder for glowing pregnant women that their baby could join mine, I don't want to become their worst nightmare. I fear that I have become their "Freddy Krueger".
These days, I find myself dramatically pushing the up and down button on my remote and turning away when I hear "Kortney Kardashian is pregnant (oh the horror), Beyonce is craving ketchup( oh my gosh), and Jessica Simpson is showing off her baby bump( I'm now sweating like I've had a nightmare)". Blah blah blah, I say to myself. I've trained myself to put it off like I don't care and don't want to hear about it but the truth is, pregnancy scares me to death. It scares me like Freddy did years ago. I'm that little girl again looking under my bed before I go to sleep, making sure he isn't under there just waiting for me to lay down so he can take his sharp fingers through my mattress and then through my body.
I could be in a serious conversation, very focused on the lips and eyes of my friend and soaking up all the words and giving my complete attention, but yet I could hear the words "pregnant" or "baby" from across a room. They stick out like the "f" word in church on Sunday. My eyes get wide like Freddy walked in and sat down beside me. I can feel my heart rate increasing and chills up my spine.
I have tried to avoid pregnant friends and I'm not proud of that fact. That is not me. I love people and being around them, pregnant or not. It's not because I'm jealous or I hate them for being pregnant. I don't avoid them because they have something I used to have and I hold that against them, it's quite the opposite actually. Deep down, I am so very happy for them and the joy they are about to experience but the new cautious and fearful me knows pregnancy doesn't always end in joy. I know first hand that things can go horribly wrong. It scares me to hear someone is pregnant, they have put on the freddy mask and shouted "boo" in my face. I don't want to scare them with my presence, I don't want to be that very real reminder that it is all too possible that they will never take their baby home and hold them in their arms...alive. What if my presence becomes awkward, what if this fear becomes as irrational as looking behind the shower curtain for Freddy before I sit down to pee. What if me being so close to the baby makes me contagious, contagious of baby loss, what if I spread it around like influenza in between seasons.
When I find out another friend of mine is pregnant, I instantly start praying "Please God, please don't make them go through this, please protect them from this pain, please God, let this baby make it and be healthy and alive, please, please, please". I beg him as if His plans weren't already in place, as if my prayers will change His puzzle and move this piece a little to prevent any further empty arms.
To be completely honest, Freddy Krueger still scares me. He still gives me chills and wide eyes but he has nothing on pregnancy. I would actually choose to go have dinner with Freddy, a glass a wine or two, and have him walk me home in the dark given the choice between that and losing a child.
What is worse is that I don't want to be the reminder for glowing pregnant women that their baby could join mine, I don't want to become their worst nightmare. I fear that I have become their "Freddy Krueger".
Monday, December 5, 2011
Brody's First Project
Hello Everyone!
I've been back and forth about a little idea I have for you guys (the readers of Brody's Blog) and I have decided to just go for it. I have a lot of other huge ideas but I think it's best to start small for now.
I've had several people come to me in person and tell me they read the blog everyday and that they have shared it with family members and friends. I've also had people send me messages on Facebook and through e-mail telling me what the blog has done or changed for them. One woman thanked me for sharing my feelings and it has helped her get through some "would be" frustrating times with her own children. I suppose reading about mine and Brody's story would make a mother feel grateful for her children, for her alive children and that a temper tantrum is far better than the alternative. I know for sure a sleepless night due to a crying baby sounds like Heaven compared to the sleepless nights I endure.
When someone tells me they read the blog, I feel so good about others really wanting to know about Brody. Often times, I just wanna come right out and say "What has Brody done for you?" "How has his story changed the way you think or feel?" or "What kind of impact has Brody had on you?" but I never want to put someone in an awkward position so I just wait until they want to tell me or sometimes they just don't. It truly amazes me that Brody has such an impact on others and he isn't even alive. He was and is so loved by so many and he only lives now through me. It's up to me to help him live on.
So, I want to start a little project and hopefully the first of many. I want to know how Brody's story has impacted you. Don't hesitate to join in the project if you don't know me that well or even at all. I will accept all responses from anyone who wants to share. Once I receive them all, I will write a special blog post from them.
There is no incentive really, no big prize for the best e-mail or anything (well, unless I think of something really creative between now and the deadline, which is always possible). I just want to get the ball rolling with Brody's first project and thought this was a great way to start.
My only request is that everyone is kind and honest. Please send responses either to my email or with a Facebook message. My email is tiagiardino@yahoo.com. Please subject the messages : Brody's Project. I would like to have the post up before Christmas so I will accept responses until December 19th. I'm really looking forward to hearing from you all!Thank you
I've been back and forth about a little idea I have for you guys (the readers of Brody's Blog) and I have decided to just go for it. I have a lot of other huge ideas but I think it's best to start small for now.
I've had several people come to me in person and tell me they read the blog everyday and that they have shared it with family members and friends. I've also had people send me messages on Facebook and through e-mail telling me what the blog has done or changed for them. One woman thanked me for sharing my feelings and it has helped her get through some "would be" frustrating times with her own children. I suppose reading about mine and Brody's story would make a mother feel grateful for her children, for her alive children and that a temper tantrum is far better than the alternative. I know for sure a sleepless night due to a crying baby sounds like Heaven compared to the sleepless nights I endure.
When someone tells me they read the blog, I feel so good about others really wanting to know about Brody. Often times, I just wanna come right out and say "What has Brody done for you?" "How has his story changed the way you think or feel?" or "What kind of impact has Brody had on you?" but I never want to put someone in an awkward position so I just wait until they want to tell me or sometimes they just don't. It truly amazes me that Brody has such an impact on others and he isn't even alive. He was and is so loved by so many and he only lives now through me. It's up to me to help him live on.
So, I want to start a little project and hopefully the first of many. I want to know how Brody's story has impacted you. Don't hesitate to join in the project if you don't know me that well or even at all. I will accept all responses from anyone who wants to share. Once I receive them all, I will write a special blog post from them.
There is no incentive really, no big prize for the best e-mail or anything (well, unless I think of something really creative between now and the deadline, which is always possible). I just want to get the ball rolling with Brody's first project and thought this was a great way to start.
My only request is that everyone is kind and honest. Please send responses either to my email or with a Facebook message. My email is tiagiardino@yahoo.com. Please subject the messages : Brody's Project. I would like to have the post up before Christmas so I will accept responses until December 19th. I'm really looking forward to hearing from you all!Thank you
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