Our sad ticker
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Friday, July 1, 2011
His absence is everywhere
Today is 13 months since he was born. A year ago today, we went to the garden where he is buried. I was crying and, in my head, asked him to send me a butterfly to tell me he is ok. Within 2 minutes, a monarch flew down onto the tree he is buried under. It flew to the other side of the tree. Then it flew towards Ted and I, landing 2 or 3 times on the hedge as it made its way towards us. It was amazing and I will never forget it.
We went to a Canada Day celebration at Bronte Harbour after with my parents, sister and nephew. Thinking back, I don't know why we were there. There were pregnant women and babies and families everywhere. We decided not to go this year. Perhaps we will head down there around 10pm to see the fireworks. It should be "safer" then.
Last year I got this henna tattoo at the Canada Day celebration. I had been thinking of a tattoo for weeks, but thought a temporary one would help me decide.
It is very similar to the permanent one that I got on December 19, 2010.
Today we were talking about the dark, dark place we were in last year, how raw the grief was. I couldn't even picture a year ahead and here we are.
Today we went to a Celebration of Life/Memorial service for my aunt's mother, who passed away in March. It was a nice service, with a drum circle at the end. I was OK for awhile, but when my sister arrived with my nephews, Jacob's absence became more pronounced. My aunts, uncles and cousins had only seen pictures of Daniel up until today, so they all looked at him, talked to him....the usual things people do with babies. All I could think of was that I should have been holding Jacob. He would be 8.5 months old. He should have been there.
I didn't know if anyone noticed my tattoo. On the way home, I found out that my Dad's cousin did notice it. She was standing beside my Dad, looked at the tattoo and said "Jacob". I don't think she said anything else (I wasn't standing with them at the time), but it makes me feel good that she noticed it.
I found this poem in the paper today, in the Memoriam section of the newspaper. It is for a 15 year old girl from her siblings:
It is how we feel, everyday.
We went to the Canada Day fireworks tonight. I was ok at first, but got more depressed as it went on and I looked forward to them ending. We saw lots of families, babies in strollers and pregnant women. Maybe that did it. It usually does. Or maybe it was knowing that Jacob should have been there with us. We probably wouldn't have even brought him for the fireworks this year as they are so loud.
We miss him so much.
We went to a Canada Day celebration at Bronte Harbour after with my parents, sister and nephew. Thinking back, I don't know why we were there. There were pregnant women and babies and families everywhere. We decided not to go this year. Perhaps we will head down there around 10pm to see the fireworks. It should be "safer" then.
Last year I got this henna tattoo at the Canada Day celebration. I had been thinking of a tattoo for weeks, but thought a temporary one would help me decide.
It is very similar to the permanent one that I got on December 19, 2010.
Today we were talking about the dark, dark place we were in last year, how raw the grief was. I couldn't even picture a year ahead and here we are.
Today we went to a Celebration of Life/Memorial service for my aunt's mother, who passed away in March. It was a nice service, with a drum circle at the end. I was OK for awhile, but when my sister arrived with my nephews, Jacob's absence became more pronounced. My aunts, uncles and cousins had only seen pictures of Daniel up until today, so they all looked at him, talked to him....the usual things people do with babies. All I could think of was that I should have been holding Jacob. He would be 8.5 months old. He should have been there.
I didn't know if anyone noticed my tattoo. On the way home, I found out that my Dad's cousin did notice it. She was standing beside my Dad, looked at the tattoo and said "Jacob". I don't think she said anything else (I wasn't standing with them at the time), but it makes me feel good that she noticed it.
I found this poem in the paper today, in the Memoriam section of the newspaper. It is for a 15 year old girl from her siblings:
So many things have happened,
Since you were called away,
So many things to share with you,
Had you been left to stay,
Every day in some small way,
Memories of you come our way,
Though absent, you are ever near,
Still missed, loved, and always dear.
It is how we feel, everyday.
We went to the Canada Day fireworks tonight. I was ok at first, but got more depressed as it went on and I looked forward to them ending. We saw lots of families, babies in strollers and pregnant women. Maybe that did it. It usually does. Or maybe it was knowing that Jacob should have been there with us. We probably wouldn't have even brought him for the fireworks this year as they are so loud.
We miss him so much.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Almost a good day
Yesterday was an ordinary day. I was at a Media and Public Relations Summit during the day. I met new people, I checked blogs, I emailed. I went to the Recurrent Loss and Infertility support group at night. But all day, I felt good. I thought about Jacob. I touched my necklace a little more often than I usually do, but I didn't have any moments of just being sad.
Halfway through the day, I realized that I hadn't thought about Jacob in about an hour and I didn't feel guilty about it. I talked to him a little then, about how it is the natural progression of things and how it doesn't mean that I don't miss him all the time.
There were 3 of us at the support meeting at night, the leader and another babyloss Mom, D, who is struggling with fertility. D said that I look good, better than they have seen me (I met them in April) and I told them that that day was the closest thing to a good day that I have had since May 30, 2010. I almost felt like my old self and I have forgotten what that feels like.
I think sometime in the past 3-5 weeks, I've reached acceptance. I realized that I no longer fight against it anymore, that I haven't even thought about acceptance in the past few weeks. It just happened and I didn't know it. Maybe it was Jacob's first birthday passing. We have also passed the one year anniversary of the day he was buried, so all the firsts are done.
Maybe it is because I am hopeful for this cycle. I feel like there is a chance it might actually work this time and I might be pregnant now. The hope has definitely helped me lately. I'll know a week from Friday.
All this being said, Jacob is still on my mind most of the time. I still sleep with his blanket, I still talk to him in my head and I still look at his picture every day. I still think of how old he should be and how different our lives should be. Today I saw 2 mom's in the bookstore pushing their babies in their strollers and I was jealous. I should be going out with my Mom friends with our babies.
He will always, always be missing. I think of my 2 nephews and of how close in age they should all be. Ben just turned 3. Jacob should be 8.5 months and Daniel is almost 2 months old. They would have grown up together, they would have known each other so well. When I see Ben and Daniel, I imagine Jacob there too and how they would all be interacting.
I had a breakthrough last week. Laurie dropped by with Ben and Daniel for a visit. Ben was eating berries and needed his face washed. Laurie asked if I wanted to wash his face or hold the baby while she did it. Because I'm being ridiculously careful about lifting anything, I said I would hold the baby. He stared at me and I stared at him. I've known him since he was 3 hours old, yet I was a new face because I haven't held him much yet. I spoke to him like I used to speak to babies. But I didn't cry. I didn't feel like crying either. I thought of Jacob the whole time, wondering what it would have been like to hold him in my arms, but I still didn't cry, even after they left.
I'll just see where this goes. Yesterday was better than today. Today wasn't bad, just not as good as yesterday.
Halfway through the day, I realized that I hadn't thought about Jacob in about an hour and I didn't feel guilty about it. I talked to him a little then, about how it is the natural progression of things and how it doesn't mean that I don't miss him all the time.
There were 3 of us at the support meeting at night, the leader and another babyloss Mom, D, who is struggling with fertility. D said that I look good, better than they have seen me (I met them in April) and I told them that that day was the closest thing to a good day that I have had since May 30, 2010. I almost felt like my old self and I have forgotten what that feels like.
I think sometime in the past 3-5 weeks, I've reached acceptance. I realized that I no longer fight against it anymore, that I haven't even thought about acceptance in the past few weeks. It just happened and I didn't know it. Maybe it was Jacob's first birthday passing. We have also passed the one year anniversary of the day he was buried, so all the firsts are done.
Maybe it is because I am hopeful for this cycle. I feel like there is a chance it might actually work this time and I might be pregnant now. The hope has definitely helped me lately. I'll know a week from Friday.
All this being said, Jacob is still on my mind most of the time. I still sleep with his blanket, I still talk to him in my head and I still look at his picture every day. I still think of how old he should be and how different our lives should be. Today I saw 2 mom's in the bookstore pushing their babies in their strollers and I was jealous. I should be going out with my Mom friends with our babies.
He will always, always be missing. I think of my 2 nephews and of how close in age they should all be. Ben just turned 3. Jacob should be 8.5 months and Daniel is almost 2 months old. They would have grown up together, they would have known each other so well. When I see Ben and Daniel, I imagine Jacob there too and how they would all be interacting.
I had a breakthrough last week. Laurie dropped by with Ben and Daniel for a visit. Ben was eating berries and needed his face washed. Laurie asked if I wanted to wash his face or hold the baby while she did it. Because I'm being ridiculously careful about lifting anything, I said I would hold the baby. He stared at me and I stared at him. I've known him since he was 3 hours old, yet I was a new face because I haven't held him much yet. I spoke to him like I used to speak to babies. But I didn't cry. I didn't feel like crying either. I thought of Jacob the whole time, wondering what it would have been like to hold him in my arms, but I still didn't cry, even after they left.
I'll just see where this goes. Yesterday was better than today. Today wasn't bad, just not as good as yesterday.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Jacob's video
On Jacob's first birthday, Ted spent some time on the computer and then surprised me with a slideshow of the time we had with Jacob and the year after his birth, set to the Irie version of Tears in Heaven. I loved it and we watched it a few times that day (and I cried each time, of course). It gave me the idea to do a video that I could post here.
It was one year ago today that we buried Jacob's ashes in the Memorial Garden beside the church we were married in. I still can't believe it has been so long since we last held him in our arms.
It was one year ago today that we buried Jacob's ashes in the Memorial Garden beside the church we were married in. I still can't believe it has been so long since we last held him in our arms.
Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com
This morning we went to the infertility clinic (where we got good news and bad news). Then we went by my good friend's shop and we had a really good talk. I always feel better after seeing her.
Then we went to downtown Oakville and went to the garden. The flowers had been planted, the tree trimmed and it was beautiful. We both said that we don't feel the heavy, heavy sadness that we often feel when going there. Then I felt guilty about that and worried that Jacob would somehow know and feel bad. Ted pointed out that I was at the garden, so he would know that I still care even if I wasn't crying and feeling devastated while there.
Then we went to a store that I've been wanting to go to for awhile and found this:
I have been looking for something like this for awhile and this was just perfect.
Friday, June 17, 2011
The things Ben says
Laurie called me tonight while Ted and I were on the way home on the GO train. She said that what she was going to tell me might make me cry so I knew it had something to do with Jacob.
Just before she called, she was sitting with Ben and holding him and saying that she remembers when he was a little baby. Ben started talking and said that Jacob is up in the sky, way way up in the sky. I think he said it twice. He said something about playing so she asked Ben if he ever plays with Jacob and Ben said no, not really just with everyone. I also hope that Jacob will come to Ben somehow and Ben will tell us about it. I could tell that Laurie was just about to cry when she told me this and that made me happy too, to know that she misses Jacob. I know she does, it is just nice to hear it sometimes.
She put Ben on the phone and asked him to tell me what he said and he talked really fast and I couldn't understand most of what he said, I just heard him say Jacob's name.
I felt so good and I talked to Jacob in my head a little. Even if Ben didn't see anything just then that made him talk about Jacob, I love that he was thinking about him. I think I talked to Ben a few weeks ago about Jacob being in Heaven, which is in the sky. Laurie said that she has told him that in the past, but she hadn't mentioned Jacob to him all day. It was totally out of the blue.
We got home and I just had to go over, so Ted and I got changed and walked to their house. I told Laurie how happy I was with what happened and how happy it made me that she was emotional about it too. I felt so good that I wanted to hold the baby, so I did. I thought of Jacob while I was holding him, of course, and of August and Cub, but I wasn't overwhelmed with sadness.
As Ted and I walked home, I talked and talked and said how happy I was that Ben had said that and Ted said he could see it.
Yesterday I had a moment of feeling like my old self. We were going for our usual evening walk and it happened and then it left, but it was nice. I told Ted that I had felt like my old self for a few seconds and he was glad and said that it has been a long time. It has. I often forget what I was like before he died. That girl seems so distant, like someone I knew once years ago.
Just before she called, she was sitting with Ben and holding him and saying that she remembers when he was a little baby. Ben started talking and said that Jacob is up in the sky, way way up in the sky. I think he said it twice. He said something about playing so she asked Ben if he ever plays with Jacob and Ben said no, not really just with everyone. I also hope that Jacob will come to Ben somehow and Ben will tell us about it. I could tell that Laurie was just about to cry when she told me this and that made me happy too, to know that she misses Jacob. I know she does, it is just nice to hear it sometimes.
She put Ben on the phone and asked him to tell me what he said and he talked really fast and I couldn't understand most of what he said, I just heard him say Jacob's name.
I felt so good and I talked to Jacob in my head a little. Even if Ben didn't see anything just then that made him talk about Jacob, I love that he was thinking about him. I think I talked to Ben a few weeks ago about Jacob being in Heaven, which is in the sky. Laurie said that she has told him that in the past, but she hadn't mentioned Jacob to him all day. It was totally out of the blue.
We got home and I just had to go over, so Ted and I got changed and walked to their house. I told Laurie how happy I was with what happened and how happy it made me that she was emotional about it too. I felt so good that I wanted to hold the baby, so I did. I thought of Jacob while I was holding him, of course, and of August and Cub, but I wasn't overwhelmed with sadness.
As Ted and I walked home, I talked and talked and said how happy I was that Ben had said that and Ted said he could see it.
Yesterday I had a moment of feeling like my old self. We were going for our usual evening walk and it happened and then it left, but it was nice. I told Ted that I had felt like my old self for a few seconds and he was glad and said that it has been a long time. It has. I often forget what I was like before he died. That girl seems so distant, like someone I knew once years ago.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Jacob's box
I have been looking for awhile for the perfect box for Jacob's things and I finally found it. Until now, they had been stored in a few different places.
 |
| The perfect words and butterfly |
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| It still doesn't hold all of his stuff. Almost every room in our house has something that reminds us of him. |
Friday, June 10, 2011
Sad, sad, sad
I had a big cry at work yesterday, the first big one at work in awhile. Missing him and the hopelessness just became too much and I had to go to my designated crying room to let it out. The morning was just a tough one. Today was better, but I was really busy all morning, so that helped.
We got home tonight and I just had no energy. Ted and I were outside doing some yardwork and I could tell that he was feeling the same way. We went in after awhile and Ted said that he is really sad, just really sad and he didn't know why he felt so bad just then. We talked for awhile and I said that we have just had such a terrible year, I think sometimes we are too hard on ourselves and think that we should be better than we are. I haven't had a good day since he died. Not one. I've had good moments, but over a year without a single happy day seems like such a long time. I know a good day will happen when it happens and I'm not really trying to have one, I just wonder if I ever will again.
Ted's grief has been worse over the past few months than it was in the early months, when he had to be strong for me. I've read over and over again how common that is, and that it can take up to 3 years for a Mom to really come to terms with what has happened.
Another thing I've been struggling with is being grateful and happy for everything I have, but still feeling empty and sad. I have everything that I had before Jacob died and I was happy then. Now I have those things, and more (some amazing friends, a house), but a huge piece is missing. I was telling Ted this the other day and he said that our lives are like a puzzle. It is a beautiful puzzle and it is almost complete, but a really important piece is missing. I've been thinking of that analogy alot since then. The puzzle was so close to being completed. We had the puzzle piece in our hands, but then we just....lost it. We look at the puzzle and, for the most part, focus on the missing piece. That piece will always be noticeably missing, but one day, more often than not, we will look at the puzzle and be able to focus more on what is there than on what isn't. But we will always be looking for and missing that piece. The puzzle will never be complete. We will never be complete.
My friend Leslie wrote a post today (here) on her blog that describes so well how I feel:
But then I think about my emotions and how the outside world may or may not perceive me. Am I truly happy when I find a reason to smile? Am I feeling any lighter about this entire journey? Do I recognize my own reflection? Am I balancing my emotions between the three living C’s and their youngest brother, whom they never got to meet? Has time helped anything? Am I finding ways to see the beauty in the life that I now lead, and to sense the endless ways that I have been blanketed in love and light?
Am I alright?
Well, most often the answer to it all is ‘No. Yes. Sometimes’. Some days I actually do marvel at the beauty of the rain, the flutter of a butterfly’s wings or the smell of summer at the beach, but there is still a great deal of pain, anger and resentment that can easily wash into almost any picture of serenity.
There is a very blurred grey line that snarls itself between grief and peace.. and it’s a line I walk every day. Some days are easier than others, but in the end everything is different in this world where he is not alive with me. One of my fellow BLM’s (and I have just spent an hour trying to search and remember exactly who said this so please let me know if it is you so that I can link back to your beautifully worded post) ** ETA I now have the link.. please read Emily’s beautiful post here** explained that while individually we may be ok, it is not ok that our babies died.
We got home tonight and I just had no energy. Ted and I were outside doing some yardwork and I could tell that he was feeling the same way. We went in after awhile and Ted said that he is really sad, just really sad and he didn't know why he felt so bad just then. We talked for awhile and I said that we have just had such a terrible year, I think sometimes we are too hard on ourselves and think that we should be better than we are. I haven't had a good day since he died. Not one. I've had good moments, but over a year without a single happy day seems like such a long time. I know a good day will happen when it happens and I'm not really trying to have one, I just wonder if I ever will again.
Ted's grief has been worse over the past few months than it was in the early months, when he had to be strong for me. I've read over and over again how common that is, and that it can take up to 3 years for a Mom to really come to terms with what has happened.
Another thing I've been struggling with is being grateful and happy for everything I have, but still feeling empty and sad. I have everything that I had before Jacob died and I was happy then. Now I have those things, and more (some amazing friends, a house), but a huge piece is missing. I was telling Ted this the other day and he said that our lives are like a puzzle. It is a beautiful puzzle and it is almost complete, but a really important piece is missing. I've been thinking of that analogy alot since then. The puzzle was so close to being completed. We had the puzzle piece in our hands, but then we just....lost it. We look at the puzzle and, for the most part, focus on the missing piece. That piece will always be noticeably missing, but one day, more often than not, we will look at the puzzle and be able to focus more on what is there than on what isn't. But we will always be looking for and missing that piece. The puzzle will never be complete. We will never be complete.
My friend Leslie wrote a post today (here) on her blog that describes so well how I feel:
But then I think about my emotions and how the outside world may or may not perceive me. Am I truly happy when I find a reason to smile? Am I feeling any lighter about this entire journey? Do I recognize my own reflection? Am I balancing my emotions between the three living C’s and their youngest brother, whom they never got to meet? Has time helped anything? Am I finding ways to see the beauty in the life that I now lead, and to sense the endless ways that I have been blanketed in love and light?
Am I alright?
Well, most often the answer to it all is ‘No. Yes. Sometimes’. Some days I actually do marvel at the beauty of the rain, the flutter of a butterfly’s wings or the smell of summer at the beach, but there is still a great deal of pain, anger and resentment that can easily wash into almost any picture of serenity.
There is a very blurred grey line that snarls itself between grief and peace.. and it’s a line I walk every day. Some days are easier than others, but in the end everything is different in this world where he is not alive with me. One of my fellow BLM’s (and I have just spent an hour trying to search and remember exactly who said this so please let me know if it is you so that I can link back to your beautifully worded post) ** ETA I now have the link.. please read Emily’s beautiful post here** explained that while individually we may be ok, it is not ok that our babies died.
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