A Rough Day....

I had been preparing myself for today all week. Today was our godson's 2nd birthday. I wasn't preparing myself for the fact that this is a little boy's birthday....one I'll never get with Ayden....no, that isn't what I had to prepare myself for. It was for the interactions that would occur there. Anytime I have to go out of the house, I'm no longer in control of what I'm faced with. A birthday, especially a kid's birthday, means other little kids...which is hard. It also means interacting with other people, which lends itself to awkwardness because I don't know what to talk about nor do they know what to say to me. So, the awkwardness sets in. I was okay until present time. Okay meaning....the lump was in the throat, but it wasn't going past.... Then, I sat on the floor, and my lap was empty. He wasn't there. He wasn't going to be there. He'll never be there again. I'm a mother, but I can't be a mother right now and I can't control that - that is the worst, stabbing, excruciating pain I will ever feel in my entire life. At that moment, the reality that had been waiting 3 weeks to hit, HIT, and it hit hard. It was all I could to keep my composure. I wanted to be there for my godson, but I knew I needed to leave. Shortly after that, my sister and I did leave. We had to go pick up my mom. Before that, though, I went out to Ayden's spot. Normally, his "spot" is not a place I need to visit frequently because I know he isn't there. But today, I needed to be there. My sister went with me, and I just kept saying, "It's just not fair....it's not fair." That's all I could think, all day.... We stood and cried for a little while, then Megan let me stay back alone for a few minutes. At that time, I just let it go....I was angry with God, with every other mother in this world who has her baby while I don't have mine, with the idea of death and how it can even dare touch a child and cause this much pain in my life.....and then, I spoke to Ayden and told him how much I love and miss him and I wished he was here.

If I offend you, I'm sorry. Today, a lot of raw feelings surfaced. If you feel as if it was because of you, it was not YOU, it was the situation....please understand why this is hard for me. Do not feel as if I am upset with you, I'm not. However, if I have to avoid you...or just walk away....please understand that it's because I'm dealing with my world being turned upside down and torn apart. I don't have much control over my reactions right now, and many times, I don't know what will set it off until it happens. Please be patient with me.....

Next, Jeremy and I went to eat with some friends of mine and their kids. We love their kids and enjoy spending time with their family. Their 3 year old daughter met Ayden and remembers him well, so she talks about him time to time. That doesn't bother me. I'd rather her talk about him than not. Does it make me emotional when she talks about him? Of course....but like I said...at least she is talking about him rather than pretending he never was. Anyway, she sat in my lap when we finished dinner and she was looking at my necklace. I have a SIDS awareness ribbon and a pendant with Ayden's name on it on a chain. So, she asked about the "snake" - the ribbon and then she asked what was written on the pendant. I told her, "Ayden." She likes to say his name, so said, "Baby Ayden, Baby Ayden, Baby Ayden died. Baby Ayden died." Whew....of course that struck me. To hear such an innocent voice speak those words, not knowing the weight they carried. I acted as if it hadn't affected me because I didn't want her to feel like I was upset because of her. In her mind, she was reasoning it out...that's her way of understanding it. I can imagine it's a lot for such a little person. So, "Mom" - no worries....she didn't upset me....it did cause me to tear up and the lump came back, but it's ok. It's going to happen. We will be joining you and your family again..... thank you for dinner. We love you guys.

Today, the numbness wore off and the real pain set in. I'm crushed, destroyed, devastated, terrified, hopeless, broken, and feeling of little significance. I go to sleep at night hoping and praying not to wake up the next morning. Again, I know this is normal. I am in no way dillusional. I know what healthy vs unhealthy grieving is.

Until you've been here....you will never, ever know this heartwrenching, shaking, all-encompassing pain. It numbs you, freezes you, stops you in your tracks and makes you feel as if there is no way out....no way to emerge from this. I've cried more today than I have in the past week....and I have a feeling the days to come will be much of the same.

Below is a post from my husband, Jeremy. Jeremy tends to take a back seat to me in all of this, and he shouldn't. Yes, he is a man. Some seem to think that because he is a man, he should grieve differently, be stronger, handle it better...NO. Jeremy is Ayden's father - Ayden is his son. He has lost a son just as I have. We share the same pain, and although we may deal with it differently, it doesn't mean he doesn't hurt just as much as I do or cry as much as I do. I know he is hurting. He has always been my rock, but I don't expect him to be strong right now. All we can do is lean on each other, cry with each other, and grow stronger through this. He is an amazing man, and I can not imagine going through this with anyone else. He is my strength and the one who reminds me of hope when I'm dwelling in the darkness. I'm so blessed to have him.


  1. Hi-
    I have no idead who you are and you don't know me but I found your blog through Patrice's (we went to high school together). I've been keeping up with you for the past few weeks and just want you to know that my family is praying for and thinking of you. I'm not going to say what I know you don't want to hear. That you're story and family have been a... well you know. But I do want you to know that we think of you often. We recently went to the beach and every day we went out onto the beach, first thing, a little yellow butterfly would flutter by.... immediately my mind ran to you. I thought of Ayden and your family and said a quick prayer for peace and understanding for you. I do not have any children yet so I cannot begin to imagine your pain nor will I try. But please know I'm thinking of you and your husband and your whole family and praying daily for you... sometimes more than once a day. Keep the FAITH and God WILL see you through this.

  2. Too much for me to write, in a comment area so I will be e mailing you...


  3. Thanks for being vulnerable. I identify so much with what you said. I commented a few weeks ago, telling you to be angry with God if you needed to. I remember after my baby died in June trying not to be angry with God. I just kept saying that I felt hurt and betrayed. But the anger did hit a couple of weeks after she died, and finally I just let it go. It was freeing.

    I understand being angry with Him. I understand being angry with every other mother who has a baby, and wondering why they deserve it and I don't. It's so hard to have your whole life become your baby and then, all of a sudden, in one day that crashes down around you. I think that is a pain that is unique for those of us that lose our first/only child. We struggle with that identity of "mom" that we had assumed. Everyone keeps telling me, "you are still a mom." And I know what they are saying, but I don't get to BE a mom in my day-to-day life, except for tending the rose garden I planted for her, or watering the grass over her grave at the cemetery. I don't get to take her into Target and find clothes for her. I don't get to carry her around and have people tell me how adorable she is. I don't get to make her laugh and enjoy her milestones. I can still make her an active part of my life, but it's all in my heart. And that hurts so much.

    Thanks for admitting you are angry. I know that's not easy, especially to admit it to Christians, because some people will judge you or think you are sinning. But I don't think so. I think it's a normal part of grieving. It doesn't mean we'll lose our faith or that we are abandoning it. It just means that we are human, we have loved deeply, and we cannot understand the ways of God. It isn't fair.

    Don't push yourself. And know that there is one mommy out there grieving with you and for you: me.

  4. Nothing I say or anyone can say will make you feel better so I will just say that I continue to pray for you. God is the only one who can make you feel at peace. I pray for comfort and strength in your darkest hours.

  5. Borrowing from another site, again, 2Corinthians 12:6, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness"

    Years ago, when I was screaming at God, allowing myself to tantrum at the unfairness of my situation, a gracious friend comforted me and told me that God understood, and said that all that was important to God was that I was communicating with Him, God could handle whatever I was saying, in whatever tone.

    Allow His grace to be sufficient, because it is.

  6. Not sure if you have seen this before...

    My Mom Is A Survivor

    My Mom is a survivor,
    or so I've heard it said.
    But I can hear her crying at night
    when all others are in bed.

    I watch her lay awake at night
    and go to hold her hand.
    She doesn't know I'm with her
    to help her understand.

    But like the sands on the beach
    that never wash away...
    I watch over my surviving mom,
    who thinks of me each day.

    She wears a smile for others...
    a smile of disguise!
    But through Heaven's door I see
    tears flowing from her eyes.

    My mom tries to cope with death
    to keep my memory alive.
    But anyone who knows her knows
    it is her way to survive.

    As I watch over my surviving mom
    through Heaven's open door...
    I try to tell her that angels
    protect me forevermore.

    I know that doesn't help her...
    or ease the burden she bears.
    So if you get a chance, go visit her...
    and show her that you care.

    For no matter what she says...
    no matter what she feels.
    My surviving mom has a broken heart
    that time won't ever heal.

  7. I am so sorry for your pain and sorrow. Please know that you're Not alone. For the past 3 years, I have not been able to go to a baby shower because it's simply too hard! I miss my babies (11). Although I am happy for others, I feel such immense pain and I can't hold back my feelings. I too love when my boys talk about their sister (this is the only baby that I know the gender of). My oldest will ask me questions about her and I simply answer the best that I can, but sometimes I can't fight back the tears. It's been a year since I lost Emma and it feels like it was yesterday...the feelings are still so strong. We've even released balloons. Unfortunately, others don't mention her because of the awkwardness, but I wish they did. She is a part of me, just like all of my other babies. I hope that you don't mind that I shared my feelings....I just want you to know that your feelings are completely normal. Eventhough we've never met, I think of you and your family (Ayden too) quite often. Hugs!

  8. It was good to see you & Megan @ the party. I know it was hard for both of you & I tried to make it a little easier, if that's even possible. I know we've talked about this but I feel like I'm hurting you by being around with Joshua. I don't want to force you to be around him if you aren't ready. I'm trying to be considerate of your feelings while trying not to offend you by shying away. This isn't about me & I don't want to make it about me. I just miss you so much! I think Dave is going to try to have lunch with Jeremy this week & I'm so jealous that he gets to do that. I wanted so much to speak to you at church today (& tonight) but I'm not sure how close I should get. I'm trying not to make it worse for you.

    I pray for both of you constantly, I really do. You're on my mind most of the day. Josh & I went to Ayden's garden tonight. It's lovely & very peaceful.

    I love you all!