Positively February: Day 20

"I realize now more than ever that the most valuable commodity in life is the feeling you get when you give.  Compassion is the currency that leads to true wealth."  - Jim Carrey

I wanted a funny quote so I thought, Jim Carrey!  There's not many people who are funnier in the world.  Well, I didn't find what I was looking for.  No funny quote.  Just this beautiful one.

To give.  I've always been more a giver than a receiver.  I'm not big on materials.  When it comes to the frivolous, I like my TV shows and my computer and I don't need much else.  I enjoy the occasional clothes shopping binge, I won't lie.  Really though, I've always enjoyed seeing the smile on someone else's face when they receive something - be it big or small.

I've learned in this past year though, that to give doesn't necessarily mean to buy something for someone, or to shower someone with gifts.  You can give your attention and your time.  You can offer words of comfort, or just an ear to listen.  You can give a hug, which can be so needed sometimes.  Really hugs have turned my day around.

I've received so much love and support.  I still receive it.  I try, when possible, to give back whenever possible.  I try to share my experiences for that very reason.  Putting my feelings, my recollections, my personal thoughts out there for anyone to read.. it might just help someone!  The comfort, the encouragements and the support I've received, I feel has turned me into such an Empath.  I have so much compassion for what others are feeling.  I'm still learning how to express it, but I feel the pain of others so easily now.  I understand, even though I'm not there, even though it's not my battle, even though it's not my pain.

It's changed me.  Preston's changed me.  Losing him has changed me.  For the worse?  Probably in some ways.  I'm more scared of certain things, yet I'm fearless in other ways.  I'm more sensitive, yet have a tougher shell.  I'm indifferent to the pettiness that exists around me, yet I'm more compassionate than ever when it comes to what my friends are feeling, what my family is going through, what people I've met along this journey live with every day.

And I do feel richer for it.

And when all else fails, and I do need a laugh after all - "Everytime I'm sad, I imagine a T-Rex trying to put a hat on"

Outpouring of love & support

I was contacted by two ladies I've met on the BBC boards and read their messages.  There was a mom who'd just lost her infant, and they felt like I'd be a good resource for her, and that it'd be a fabulous idea if I could reach out to her.  Of course I did so as soon as possible because I know all too well how difficult this journey is.  How alone you can feel even when you are surrounded.  How you try and recalculate everything you did to see if you could have done something differently.  How you are forced into making decisions you never imagined you'd have to make. A funeral.  Burial or cremation.  Do I want to hold my baby again or should I stay away because he/she won't look the same and it might ruin the memory of your child.  All decisions I had to make.  All decisions I had to make at the lowest point in my life.

When I connected to the forum thread about this mother losing her son Archer, I was floored.  I was absolutely bewildered in amazement by how much love and support this mom was receiving - on a non-loss forum.  Pages and pages of supporting comments, outpourings of love and women helping this mother through the absolutely worse time of her life.  Hugs.

Virtual or not, support can be so powerful.  It can lift you up and help you through the wild waves of grief.  While no one experiences grief the same, while all experiences are unique, while we are all on our own journeys, support can make such a difference.  This thread, where hundreds have replied to this mama's cry for help, and thousands have hugged this sweet soul, is a sign of what I've hoped to see since losing Preston in March.  The silence is breaking around losing babies.  It's less taboo.  It's talked about.  Perhaps there is hope for us not to be shunned because our stories are too sad.  There is hope that we will not be sequestered from future happy events.  Hope does float.

In the last couple of days, I've posted a couple times in this thread, in the hopes of letting this mom know that she is not alone going through this horrible journey.  I don't know that I've touched her, but something pretty amazing happened.  My blog went from 50-100 views daily, to 3500+ in the last two days.  A couple of people reached out to me.  One made my day yesterday - I got my long awaited sign from Preston:

"artisticdevelopment" writes:

...at lunch today the window of your blog popped back up on my phone with a picture of Preston smiling zoomed to the full screen. I don't remember doing that! I felt like he was saying "Hey! What do I have to do to get your attention! Write to my mommy!" I'm terrible at typing on my phone but I didn't want to waste any more time so I'm writing you now. I wish I had something eloquent to say but the best I can do is Preston was beautiful and he sure printed himself on my heart. Xoxo.

Just wow.  I cried.  I smiled.  My heart skipped a beat.  2014 has been a challenging year to say the least.  It started off so great... the best 9-10 weeks of my life.  I'd thought 2012 was a sucky year... Boy was I wrong.  I'm not sad to see 2014 go away, but at the same time, I did have some very happy moments.  As almost everything is in my life now, it's bittersweet.

Basically, all this to say, don't underestimate the power of love and support.  It can do magical things, as can positive attitudes, but that's a little difficult to have when you've lost part of yourself.  So thank you to all who are support Archer's mama.  To all that are supporting Evan's mama.  You are truly making a difference, even if you can't see it.  Those first few months are fuzzy, blurry and foggy.  I don't remember them well.  Re-reading my early blog entries and totally don't recall writing them.  Thank you for supporting them, and continuing to do so.  Thank you for helping break the silence.  Thank you, for your compassion.  Dare I say, thank you from all grieving mamas.

#CaptureYourGrief - Day 10: Support

The topic for day 10 of #CaptureYourGrief, to me, kind of overlaps with the subject of resources as the resources offer support.  Support by being able to discuss our losses, openly share our feelings, and experiences, all the while contributing to others who walk in our shoes in the hopes of maybe helping them through their journey.  It also allows us to share whatever we want about our sons and daughters.  So, whether that support is received verbally, in written fashion or simply in gestures, like a kind squeeze from a friend, or a hug from a loved one, all the support that we receive, that I receive, is appreciated beyond words.

I've been blessed with a great support system.  I've felt very supported wherever I go.  At home, at work, through Facebook, Babycenter and my blog.  Through the Angel Eyes support group.  With family and friends.  I have found support in surprising places.  Friends that I'd lost touch with.  True friendships are so special.  Friendships that have lasted the obstacles of age, distance and time.  Ones where you might not really speak to each other for years, but one day, pick right back up like if you'd been talking every day.  I'm so grateful for the friends and family that have been there for me, time and time again.  That continue to be.  That follow my journey closely and share experiences that they are able to relate to mine, even if they aren't exactly the same.  No one person is exactly the same, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with being able to relate with one tragedy, even if it's not the exact same thing.  To know that I've somehow touched you in some way, helped you in some way, I can't even begin to tell you how much that means to me.  It helps me grow and maybe, it helps you grow too.

It's interesting that this subject came up when it did - day 10.  On October 6th, we had our monthly group meeting and the subject was just this - support systems.  I'm relatively new to this journey, 7 months in.  In our group, there were several couples who are a couple years out, several years out, and they shared how over the years, the support system changes.  The first weeks, months - some people are really there for you, and then they take a step back.  Then others are there for you, and again they take a step back and at the same time, perhaps others show up again.  Basically, my understanding was that overtime, they felt that support systems are ever changing.  I can't really say that I've experienced that myself.  And if it does happen, well I understand.  Loss is a difficult subject to discuss, think about.  Add losing a child to the mix, and that difficulty level rises.  No one wants to image it.  No one wants to live it.  But as with every thing, someone has to.  I'm one of those someones.  Right now, I feel like I'm in a good place.  I'm supported well by friends, family and strangers who are going through a loss.  I don't want to burden people who don't feel they can support me, and I don't feel like I need to.  So if you aren't in a place where you're comfortable talking to me about Preston, talking to me about my loss, my journey, how I'm feeling - that's okay. I understand.  I don't hold it against you.  Just know, that if you ever are ready to talk to me about it, you aren't opening up a giant wound.  You aren't causing me pain by bringing it up.  I think about Preston every single day.  I smile every day, remembering his smile.  While my wound is healing, it will never completely heal - and I'm 100% okay with that.

P.S. I struggled finding the right image to depict "support".  I already had used holding hands for day 8.  I chose last night's sunset, because it was serene.  The support system I have, brings me the same - serenity.

Thank you for the support

Thank you!!

I haven't sent out thank you cards to everyone, or anyone for that matter, who attended Preston's memorial service.  I haven't sent out thank you cards to everyone who's extended their sympathies, cooked dinners for us, kept us company, gave us gifts to help with rough days, or to serve as a reminder of our son.  All this to say, on day 3 of my 30 days of gratitude, I am thankful for our support system.  Our loved ones, near and far.  Acquaintances we've met along the way.  Our support group at Angel Eyes.  The angel mommies from BBC and First Candle.  All you readers of my blog.

I stated before that I haven't sent out thank you cards.  It isn't that I don't want to, it's that it's too hard.  It's too hard to write out so many thank you cards.  It reminds me too much of the day we lost our son, of the day we had a memorial for Preston.  When you are a parent, the last thing you think about is making a decision about whether to bury or cremate your 16 week old child.  You don't think about what arrangements you want to have at his funeral, or memorial.  You don't think about the last time you'll ever hold them.  That being said, I hope you understand that I'm still not ready to send out thank you cards, but that I am ever so grateful for the support you offered us and continue to offer us.

Jocelyn, Barry and Charles were there from the moment everything happened.  You were there during the days that followed, whatever we needed.  I can't say I remember much about that first week, but I am ever so thankful for you guys because I would have had a hard time making any decisions.  Kate, you were wonderful too, and I know you would have been there sooner if you could have been.  Brett's parents were there within a day.  My parents, and my brother Ted flew in a couple days later.  Jason, I know you would have been there if you could.  I'm sorry that you couldn't be there and I know it must have been even more difficult to not be able to. 

The countless cards, emails, messages we received were overwhelming.  Yes, they made us cry but feeling your love and support has helped us more than you can imagine.  It is very easy to feel alone when you lose a child.  I can't say I have felt alone much.  I've had my husband by my side always, but I've also had all of you.

Cyn, Liz, Sherri, Aunt Jocelyn - your constant encouragements, comments, anecdotes are so helpful to me.  Cyn you have something to share almost every day and you have no idea how much that means to me.  Krystal, not only are you a source of inspiration with your own blog, your journey, your losses, but again you comment almost on every entry I have.  It means the world to me that I can connect with you in this way.  I'm sure Conner, Ben and Preston have become fast friends are smile down at their mamas every day.  Your support is invaluable.

The support group at Angel Eyes, what can I say... when we attended our first session, it was all very fresh.  We had just lost Preston 2 and half weeks before, but I can say it felt comforting to know we weren't alone.  Some of you lost your baby at daycare like us.  Some of you lost your first born like us.  Some of you lost a little boy, just like us.  More importantly though, all of you knew exactly what we were going through, and had wise words for us.  You told us we'd feel all kinds of emotions.  You told us that there wasn't a timeline for anything and that we had to be gentle with ourselves.  You reached out to us, gave us your phone numbers, told us to call, text if we needed to talk, whatever the time.  You gave us hope.  All of you are further down this terrible journey, and you are still standing.  Surely, we will find our way as well.

The angel mommies at BBC... there are so many of you.  The sheer number of new names I see on a weekly basis is heartbreaking.  And I know we are all at different stages in our losses, we all have different losses, but they are all significant.  Your kind words of encouragement on a tough day, your understanding of all the feelings I go through, and your letting me try to help you as well, really has made a difference in my life.  The same goes for the ladies and gents from First Candle.  Most of you having lost a baby to SIDS know exactly what I am going through and while we belong to the worst club on earth, hearing your stories, seeing your ups and downs, allows me to know that what I'm going through is "normal".

The ride to work and back were particularly difficult today.  For whatever reason, I was thinking about having gone back to work after my maternity leave.  I'd gone back to work on February 11th, and we lost Preston on March 13th.  I was struggling with the guilt of going back to work, I still am.  I didn't go back out of obligation, though part of the reason is wanting to continue living the lifestyle we're accustomed to.  Another part was making enough to help our kids through college.  The last part though is a little selfish.  I wanted to go back because work makes me feel fulfilled, not to say that Preston didn't make me feel fulfilled.  I've had times in my life where I couldn't work, and quite frankly, I was going stir crazy.  I need the mental stimulation.  I want the mental stimulation.  I feel like I'll always want to work to keep my mind active and sane.  But that guilt gets to me.  What if I hadn't gone back to work.  Would Preston still be with us? I wouldn't have left him alone for 30 minutes.  Maybe it was too cold at the nanny's.  As to not help my state of mind, the lyrics on Pandora repeated - "I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you"... Just about killed me to hear that.  I feel like I could have saved him.  But what I feel and reality, I know are two vastly different things.  I know that nurses and doctors within inches of babies who have died from SIDS could not revive them.  So, really why the guilt?  Will it always follow me like a shadow?

I digress though, really, I want you to know how thankful I am.  Thankful that you continue to ask how we're doing, knowing that the answer probably never will be "we're doing awesome".  I'm thankful that you respond to my blog entries with encouragements, anecdotes of your own relating to the topic of my last post.  I'm thankful for your hugs.  I'm thankful for the coffees, and lunches, though really they aren't necessary.  I'm thankful for your time and friendship more than anything.  I'm thankful that you speak my son's name, that you feel like you know him, that you think of him, that he makes you smile.  I'm thankful for your presence during the toughest time of our lives.  I'm thankful for your understanding, when we aren't quite all there around babies, especially blond little boys.  I'm thankful that you haven't shut us out, that you continue to invite us and feel welcome.  I've heard so many stories about people walking around on eggshells around angel parents, stop inviting them to social functions because they are awkward to be around.  I know it'll happen, days where we are more emotional, days where we are more vulnerable, days where we just can't get past the loss.  But I know that you'll understand.  On those days, you'll hug us.  You'll offer a shoulder to cry on.  You'll offer kind words, or you just won't say a word as you listen.  And for all that, for everything, I thank you.

Tomorrow - Day of Hope

I rather stumbled upon this by accident a couple days ago.  I'm not entirely sure where I even saw it - I want to say somewhere on Facebook.  I haven't read up on it as much as I would liked to, so I'd like to share an excerpt from the website which made me discover this amazing undertaking for bringing awareness to child loss, no matter the age. The website: http://carlymarieprojectheal.com/international-dates/august-19th-day-of-hope; the excerpt:

August 19th is about coming together as a whole community to openly speak about these children and celebrating their short lives. Each year thousands of people around the globe take part in The Day Of Hope by hanging up prayer flags in honour of their babies and children that have died. Many people also share our Prayer Flag awareness images on facebook, instagram, twitter and other social networks. These images can be found through my albums in the links below.  You can use the images on your own blog or website. Please feel welcome to post one of our awareness images as your profile picture on your favourite social media website! You can use the hashtag #august19thdayofhope

Obviously having only read this less than an hour ago, I don't have time to make an appropriate prayer flag, but I will definitely plan on making one soon, and proudly hang it.  Maybe one for home, one for work, one for my car?  The possibilities are endless of what I could do.  While Preston was only with us for 16 weeks, it still enabled us to learn a lot about him; about his likes and dislikes.  Likes: bright colors, lullabies, bouncing, doggies/bunnies, being read to, kicking, smiling.  Dislikes: being wet, loud things.  And of course, there's the things that we deduce he would have liked: baseball, bears, pizza, chocolate chip cookies.  It' interesting to think, after Preston first passed, I wanted to have a quilt made out of all his onesies and wrap myself in it every day.  Thinking about using one for the flag, I don't like the idea.  Funny how the mind works.  I guess I'm glad for one piece of advice we received soon after losing Preston - Don't make any important decisions for at least a year.  I feel that changing something of his, would be an important decision, because once it's changed, you can't go back.  So who knows what will ever become of this quilt idea.

The other part of the event is lighting a candle and joining the event by streaming it on youtube: https://www.youtube.com/user/CarlyMarieDudley

I'm thinking I want to tune in tonight at 8:30pm (so 7:30 PST, 10:30 EST).  It again, promises to be an emotional time, but at the same time, these ladies that are going to be speakers (8 of them?) may very well have things to say that are helpful to me.  Perhaps I will listen for a bit and it will be too much? At least I will be in the comfort of my own home, with mementos of Preston, with hubby somewhere close by.

I'm simply amazed by the different things angel mamas go out of their way to do for other moms who have lost.  Whether it be through a tree which carries the names of our angels, whether it be on a quilt with a memorial square for each of our babies, or with bracelets with angel wings to represent our losses.  There are others, who like me, somehow find words in the hopes of inspiring others, and put the names of their babies out there for the whole world to see.  There are others who create world wide events with people who will speak on this tough subject.  There are others who offer countless hours to listen to you vent, scream and cry.  There are some who help organize community events, like the Angel Walk from this past Sunday, to help memorialize our babies.  All these things make us feel less alone.  All these things mean the world to us.  All these things, create awareness and make us all a little more comfortable with sharing our stories, thoughts, fears.

In closing, I have to share a message I received today through BBC. 

I was responding to a post and was looking at your sweet boys pictures and I had to say his picture makes me smile everytime I come across your posts!! I will be sitting here wanting to cry and poof..I see his smile and I realize I'm smiling back at him..thank you for sharing him with us..I'm struggling sooo hard with the loss of my babies and this made tonight less hard

 I figured since I kept smiling it would be so much better to tell you than keep it to myself..I know how much it meant for me to be told from another lady that she loved seeing my belly growing when I posted pics of how big I got..just something so simple made my babies passing away feel a little less empty..
Preston seems to be smiling in every picture which tells me he was so full of joy and happiness that he would be happy to know he made a very lost mommy smile in her darkest days..Thank you for sharing your sunshine with this mommy who felt the rays :)

I had gotten to work early since I needed to go have my BP checked again today.  It's good by the way.  Another 6 weeks or so like this and hopefully that means I can come off the meds altogether!  For now, just being cautious and taking it slow as to not suffer a set-back.  Anyway, I didn't need to clock in for a while, so I checked on BBC for posts I follow on a daily basis, to see how fellow angel moms were doing this morning, and I saw that I had a message.  I just nearly cried my eyes out.  Preston, baby boy, you are making your mama so proud.  You aren't here anymore, but you really are spreading happiness.  You really do have a purpose on this Earth, even though you have grown wings to fly.  This just made my day, my week and is making me teary eyed all over again.  Thank you "ImTypo".  Your babies would be proud of you for sharing this moment of light in your darkest hours.

Sharing this per the permission of CarlyMarie (from her Facebook page):