Nana's Beach

I think I cried all the way between Raleigh and Topsail.  Jake really loved "Nana's beach" when we took him to dig in the sand a few weeks before he died.  I couldn't wait to take him this summer because for the first time they were really going to really love it. I am such an anticipator with my buddies.  I would get so excited that Russ would refer to me as a toddler right before Christmas and their birthdays, Great Wolf Lodge, Vacations, Halloween, Easter, even Valentines Day..I just loved to do special things for them and it was so fun to see how excited they would get with each other.  I can't help but wonder if I will ever be this way again.  Will I ever decorate our house again for Christmas and be excited--really and truly excited? Will I ever look forward to a vacation again and be truly excited?  But Colin...but Colin.  I love him and this enormous love so far has saved me and I want it for him. I do.

I sat in the sand staring at the enormity of the water in front of me and just longed to feel closer to him...looking over at Colin though carrying his bucket proudly over to his cousin whom he adores, all I could feel was loss--Jacob adored her too...Jacob adored Nana and her beach too...All I could feel was that hole that sucks me in and makes me physically sick from a feeling of falling.  I couldn't wait to see them play in the sand this year and run in the surf.  Such a simple thought that made me so incredibly happy to imagine in anticipation now just resulted in me crying myself to sleep every night at the beach.

I know it is just another one of these "firsts" without our baby.  I looked around at other people with their children and felt that hole and envy of the carefree happiness I saw everywhere.   I again wondered if Russ and I will ever be able to get there again.  It doesn't seem possible honestly.  I was so happy to have my mom there playing with Colin in the ocean making him smile seeing her smile beyond all of her pain having lost Jake and in a way...me.  I was so happy to have my cousin sitting next to me in the sand and my little cousin happily playing with Colin letting him imitate her every move.  It gave me some comfort.   Again though, I thought about the statistic..1 in 100,000...why our Jacob..why Russ, Colin and me.  Why?  I see so much pain in eyes of abused children, I see so many parents who just don't care about their children which is totally unfathomable to me--I know it sounds terrible, but I hear of so many people who abort children because they find out they aren't going to be perfect.  It kills me.  Why did this have to happen to our family.  Why if there has to be that 1 in 100,000, why did it have to be him????  I miss him so much.

Our heartache has gotten a little deeper over the past few weeks as friends and some family go "back" to their lives.  I knew it would happen--I just didn't know how much it would really hurt.  My heart is still in a million pieces.  I still sob so hard I can't breathe every day. I know it sounds terrible and completely irrational but I feel like screaming sometimes, "please I still need you so much- Jacob is gone- he died and he was perfect.  He had something fatally wrong with him and we had no idea, we missed it and still have no idea- I am so desperately sad still" but I know I can't. I still hide an enormous amount of pain behind a usually forced smile and an appearance of--I can do this.  The truth is--I don't know that I can. I hurt way deeper than I ever did.  My feelings are hurt so much easier.  I feel the "loss" as I realize that in some friendships there was a temporary closeness as they grieved for Jacob or maybe just the thought of it being their own child and then they slowly fade from our more everyday lives.  This is the kind of thing, that I could handle in stride before.  Now it feels so personal--I know its not but it feels like I am being punched in the stomach and it stings. Still, I think we have both discovered the friendships and family relationships that help us out of "the hole" over and over and we are so thankful because it really has yet to get any more shallow.

I hope that over time, our hole fills in, little by little. I pray that our love for Jacob and the memory of him and the sheer and utter joy he brought to us and everyone around him will help it fill up...little by little I hope it fills up. Grain by grain....I hope we can find our way to level ground again with some joy and even anticipation...until I see you again Jacob and hold you in my arms. 

Is He crying?

The morning Jacob died- not in the hospital but the morning of March 24th when I truly believe Jacob went home to heaven- was a rainy morning.  The sun didn't shine that day at all. I remember thinking snuggling with Colin in bed before we knew that Jacob had passed away believing he was getting some much needed extra sleep that his brother never let him have...that I just couldn't wait to spend the rainy day with my boys in their PJs.  I thought how we wouldn't get dressed and I smiled.  I loved them so much and I remember my feelings of happiness, love, warmth and just peace that morning thinking about being with all three of my boys that day with no particular plans--such a rare event.

That feeling is palpable to me and yet almost indescribable and I fear that I know that I will never again feel such peace...such joy and expectation...such love and happiness as I did that rainy morning before my world crumbled and my heart broke into a million pieces.  I hear my screams that came after that my sweet baby was dead and again just like so many times that I have cried since then, I don't even recognize what or who I am hearing.  Is that me?  The sobbing and screaming come from such a deep place of sorrow and despair that I can't even recognize it.

Since that day, it seems that it has been raining ever since.  A dear friend of mine bought us a rain gauge and I can't count the number of times I have had to pour it out as it reached 10 inches.  It occurred to me yesterday that maybe...just maybe, God was crying for us that day and so it was reflected in the rain...and just maybe, God has been crying so much ever since--just like Russ and me.

My grief is overwhelming.  For some reason, it feels it is getting worse. I sometimes thought that time would help.  So far, time has not been our friend.  Lately Russ and I just struggle with my thoughts of that morning and why this happened.  I struggle with all consuming (literally) guilt and blame.  What could I have done differently? Did he suffer? Did he struggle and wonder where his "mama" was?  Did he think I left him and I let him struggle? Oh God, please give me a peace that he didn't struggle, that you took him home in peace and he never knew to be scared.  Please give me some sign that he was taken home in an instant, that he went to sleep knowing he was loved and the next thing he knew, he was in eternal loveliness and joy in heaven.  I can't go on with this question and so I pray this everyday.  I often thought it was wrong to pray for a "sign" or be told of Gods presence because that is not true faith.  Faith is believing without seeing...but I need to see.  I need to know I will see him again and I didn't let my baby suffer and die.  I don't understand. I still watch the video from the fateful birthday party the day before..I watch it over and over looking for some sign that he was going to die hours later.  He looked so happy.  He looked so incredibly alive and smart and sweet and cute.  He ate cupcakes and picked up Easter eggs.  He smiled and then he whined.  Did the whine mean something, did I miss something?  I miss you so much my baby boy. I loved you more each day which I never could have imagined possible after the way I felt the first day I met you- but here I am my heart spilling with love for you and I know that will never change.  I want to hold you again.

I hold Colin and hug him so incredibly tight. I watch him breathe, I smile at his sweet face and think about his truly kind spirit to others.  Colin is so adorable.  People still stop me in stores and out commenting how beautiful he is, how pretty his hair, how sweet his face and eyes.  I always got so much attention with the boys and always believed it was just because they were twins- blonde twins and were maybe just a sight to people.  I just assumed that would stop and when people stop me with Colin now, I look at him and just feel so very proud of this vibrant, smart, kind little boy.  He speaks with prepositions and long sentences- his thought processes are crazy for a 2 1/2 year old and I just love him so much.  He is my world right now and I am so thankful for him.  I always tell him he is my "love bunk."  Today, out of the blue, he said, "Mommy, are you my love bunk?" I looked over at him today playing sweetly and independently with his blocks singing to himself and again, my heart broke for him...he should have his twin brother to play with.  It's not fair.  It just can't be right and I wish it was different for him.  Still, he has adjusted and he is so resilient.  I admire my little person and his spirit and his confidence. 

I love you Colin for all that you are to me and your daddy.  I love you Jacob for all who you are to our family and always will be---and I can't wait to hold you again.

For now, the rain are tears...

Jammies

The other night I was cleaning out some of Colin's drawers.  Before we had gotten home from withdrawing support on Jacob, I had asked my mom to help take out at least the double clothes and the highchair because I knew that I just would not be able to survive seeing them right away.  There were days right after when I realized that was a mistake.  I miss him so badly, I want to see him everywhere- honestly I do anyway.  I walk up the stairs holding the railing and see him climbing up the outside and sliding down the slats (this almost always made my heart skip a beat before I could tell him to get down).  I look out the corner window of our family room and see Jake sitting below the window with the sunlight shining on his golden white hair with his legs stretched out and 10 books piled up around him slowly and carefully turning each page--a sight that always made me stop in my tracks and feel such immense love that it almost felt overwhelming.  I go down the basement stairs behind Colin and I see Jacob walking next to him, holding his hand--another heart stopping moment for me when he was alive.  So being a little sad that his things were moved didn't really end up mattering too much because I see him everywhere...all the time.  This is a source of comfort as well as can be a huge source of such intense pain, that I honestly can't handle the thought of taking another breath.  Crushing grief. 

I thought I had gotten all the winter PJs out when I pulled out two last pairs.  The sight made me burst into tears- something that I try not to do when I can in front of Colin but it just hit me so hard- it felt like I had been hit with a sledge hammer..again...to see two of these jammies.  They were Jakes favorite- covered in "bagutballs and soccer balls and footballs!!"  He said the same thing every time I put them on with a smile ear to ear.  There were two of them- just like I had two of everything.  2 of every shirt, every pair of pants, socks, cribs, highchairs, car seats, bikes, cars, balls, placemats, growth charts, cups, spoons, blankets.  This is too much.  I don't know how to do 1.  I never had 1.  Two is my world and I live for TWO boys, TWO loves of my life and I hate that he is gone and I now have to look at two of everything in desperation.  Most minutes of everyday, its torture.   I hate that Colin has to grow up without him by his side too.  I hate that every birthday, Christmas, graduation...he will feel a loss.  I would do anything to change it for him.  My heart was torn apart that morning when Russ handed me Jacobs lifeless little body with his sweet chubby feet and beautiful hair and birth mark that I adored.  My two became one...and half of my heart died.  I wish I just held him tight and hugged him because I never got to again.  The next time I saw him, he had tubes, and IVs and wires and blood everwhere.  Our perfect little boy full of such life was unrecognizable and I should have just held him in my arms and hugged him.  I would give anything to have him back in my arms.  Now I hold one in my arms and one in my heart, separated for now but never far apart.  I love you Jacob Edwin and Colin Joseph.  Forever I will love you both with all of me.