Sunday, February 21, 2010

I love Target. How could you not love a place were you can buy pantie hose, shampoo, milk, and now produce all in the same location? It's genius. In all seriousness - I think I am obsessed. If anyone asks me were I got something, 95% of the time it's from Target. I don't know what it is but I am just drawn to that place. I will usually go for just one or two things, but EVERY time I walk out of there I end up with WAY more that I need. Like I said, a bit obsessed.

The other day I was there picking up a few things. I had a list of stuff that I needed - shampoo, coffee, stuff for my brothers package I am sending him. At the new Target I shop at in Lincoln the baby isle is pretty much in the very middle of the store. I had not been in the baby section at our new Target store, and ironically should have been many times. Not because I needed anything from that section, but because it would have made it much easier for me to get from point A to point B in the store if I just went right down the middle, down the baby isle.

When Luke was born there was this smell, a smell I will never forget. It was the sweetest, softest, purest smell ever. The combination of his smell and his warmth in my arms will forever be embedded in my mind. For the longest time when I would think of his smell I would just cry, wanting so bad to get it back. The closest I ever got to smelling that sweetness was from his blanket that he was wrapped in at the hospital which sadly no longer has his scent.

So as I am walking down the baby isle I smell it. It is not completely the same, but it was the closest I had been to smelling him again. I don't know what it was - the baby soaps, the baby clothes, the wipes...I don't know. Everything was sealed tightly so I don't know for sure were the scent was coming from but it was there. So yes, there I stood in the middle of Targer just breathing in and out, taking in ever bit of the greatest scent ever. Like I said, it wasn't totally the same, but it still felt so familiar.

And to think that I couldn't love Target anymore than I already did.

Monday, February 15, 2010

God bless our troops

This is my amazing little brother who is currently serving in Iraq. As a tribute to Luke, he wears his name. Thank you for your service brother, I love you more than you will ever know!!

PS - I thank God every day that my brother has an angel up in heaven looking over him!!


I have a confession...I have been avoiding this place. Not because I don't feel welcome here, or that the stories of other mommies don't bring me comfort, but because I just wanted to be done with this. I don't want to have a baby in heaven, I want him here. I don't want to cry tears of sadness anymore, I want some tears of happiness. And lastly, I don't want to be a part of a group of people who are all connected because their babies are gone.

Harsh words I know, but that is how I have been feeling. It's like I just want to be done with it all. All the grieving, all the sadness. POOF - I just want it to disappear. The last few weeks I have been living in denial. They say that in grieving you go through stages and usually the last stage is acceptance. I think I have gone through most of the other stages....sadness, anger. But now I am stuck between the denial and acceptance stages. Logically, yes, I know my son is gone. I know that when I don't feel his warmth in my arms. I know it when I have no diapers to change, or cries to comfort. He is gone. I know he is gone, but I would rather pretend that he is not. Crazy? Maybe....denial....most definitely.

I have gone back to my counselor. That has been a good thing. I feel like I am at a place that I needs some guidance in. The truth is, is that I want to be at "that place." That place where I can feel like I am living again. The place where I am not terrified of every little thing. The place where having more children does not mean that I am giving up or forgetting Luke.

I talked to my counselor about all of the feelings that I was experiencing and she had a lot of helpful things to say. One of my issues is Luke's things tucked away in a closed off bedroom. I told her how hard it was to see all of his clothes that I had for him, and how "Luke's room" was so hard to go into to. So hard that I keep the door closed so that I don't have to see its emptiness.

I talked to my counselor about this and she brought up a few valid points. I told her that I found it odd that I was so attached to clothes that Luke never even wore, and a room that he never even slept in. It was like I was holding onto the only tangible things that reminded me of him. She asked me if it would be impossible to think of another child sleeping in "Luke's room" or wearing him clothes. At first when I heard this I got super protective as I usually do when it comes to Luke. I immediately thought "replacement child" "out with the old, in with the new." But then my counselor started talking about Luke's siblings. Like how she has two boys and when one son got too small for his clothes, it would be passed down to the younger son. When I heard that my thinking started to shift. I thought about how all these things - this room, these clothes - Luke has grown out of them. I thought of how his angel wings are so big that there is no way he would even fit into these clothes that he has left behind. The clothes he has left behind for his siblings to wear. And how he left a room for his brothers and sisters to sleep in, so that he can come visit and protect them every night.

So as hard as it is for me to sit here, log on, and write down my feelings - I am glad I did it. Yes, this place may be a place were we are all connected by the deepest sadness anyone could image but in coming here we walk away with hope, strength, and a feeling that we do belong. Many of the blogging mommies I have connected with over the last six months are expecting again and I am so thankful that you have shared your stories. Your courage and honesty in the fears you face everyday have given me so much strength. One of the biggest fears I have had in this journey has been the fears I face in thinking about conceiving again. I am still a work in progress but because of the many heartfelt stories I have read, I take comfort in knowing that there are rainbows that come after a storm.

What an angel looks like...