Sunday, September 13, 2009

They had his WHAT in their hands??

Have you ever read an autopsy report? Or even seen one? The day we got ours was quite mortifying for me. It was another one of those things that you think you are ready for, but really you aren't ready at all. I went through the whole thing, page by page. It took me hours. I would read a little and take a break. Then read some more. Then after I finished it, I read it again. All the while I'm over thinking every, single part of it. In the report, it tells you how much his brain weighed. To me, that meant that they held my son's brain in their hands. It was one of those OMFG moments for me. Who wants to think about that? I want to think of all his parts inside him, in the correct spots. I mean, I know they have to do all this in the autopsy, but I guess I didn't realize it til I was reading it.

We didn't get any answers from the autopsy. Well, nothing besides he was healthy. Everything about him was 'right'. Which, quite honestly drives me fucking nuts. If he's so healthy and everything was so right, why isn't he here? Why isn't he waking me in the middle of the night and making me extremely sleep deprived. I know his brother does a darn good job of it, but they could double team me and make it even worse. That's what I wanted.

You know, they say that this "just happens" sometimes. And there are no answers. You know what else "just happens" though? Cancer. How many foundations are out there trying to find a cure or prevent cancer? Compare that to how many foundations are out there trying to find prevention for stillbirth? It doesn't even compare. What about child molestation or kidnapping? That "just happens" too. Yet, that isn't so 'hush' like Stillbirth is.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

A Pair Of Shoes

I am wearing a pair of shoes. They are ugly shoes. Uncomfortable shoes. I hate my shoes. Eachday i wear them, and each day i wish i had another pair. Somedays my shoes hurt so bad that i do not think i can take another step. Yet, i continue to wear them. I get funny looks wearing these shoes. They are looks of sympathy. I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs. They never talk about my shoes. To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable. To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them. But, once you put them on, you can never take them off. I now realize i am not the only one who wears these shoes. There are many pairs in this world. Some woman are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them. Some have learned how to walk in them so they dont hurt quite as much. Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt. No woman deserves to wear these shoes.Yet, because of these shoes i am a stronger woman. These shoes have given me the strength to face anything. They have made me who i am. I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

He's the frame, I'm the picture..

Dh and I had to decide what to do with Jayce. Did we want to bury him? Cremate him? Hard choice for some, but for us, it was rather easy. Being in the military of course we move alot. We aren't "home". Right now I don't even think we know where "home" is. So burying him was pretty much out of the question. I wouldn't want to bury him here, knowing we would eventually leave. We have nothing here in this state, so we don't ever care to come back once we are gone. With that in mind, we chose to cremate our son.

After his memorial, of course they take the body to be cremated. Then we wait for the phone call telling us to come and pick him up. I was so anxious and ready to get that call... or so I thought. Once the call from the funeral home came and told us we could come anytime.. he was ready to be picked up, I was still so ready to get him. I went alone. I don't really remember why I went alone. I'm sure I just wanted to go for a drive or something, because during those days I loved just going for a ride and listening to J's CD.. the CD played at his memorial. Driving and crying was good medicine for me.. yes, the sunglasses were always on! :o) Anyway, once I got to the funeral home I went in there all brave and feeling good. Then I got to the desk and told the nice old lady what I was there for. She went to get someone to help me and they couldn't find my son!!! So I had to sit and wait.. While waiting I had this overwhelming feeling of anxiety come over me. I instantly went into panic mode and OMG I was all alone. Finally the director came to get me. He had this tiny white box in his hands along with J's gown and a couple other things for me. We talked for a few moments and then I left. When I got into our car I opened the box and instantly broke down. I thought I was ready for that day. I wasn't. In the box was a little baggy with ashes and a coin. I wasn't ready. I wanted that box and that baggy to turn back into a baby. How could this be me? How could this be my life? How can I be the one that loses her son, when there are so many ghetto, trailer trash hoes that have babies that shouldn't. And we know damn well they shouldn't. So really, why me? Why us?

I got home and I was so upset. My husband was home when i got there. I am so thankful for him. I know that this time was hard for both of us, but he was so strong. He was absolutely everything that I needed during these times and I love him so much more for how he handled everything. I am positive that I wouldn't be where I am in this grieving process if it wasn't for him. Honestly, I think I would still be majorly medicated.. just lying in bed. Pretty much good for nothing.

My husband has always said that he is the frame and I'm the picture. He'll always be there to hold me up. And boy did he prove that to me these past 9 months! I love him so much.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

9 months later..

9 months later and I still remember everything as if it were yesterday. 9 months later and I miss him more than ever. 9 months later and I still, every night, think about the morning of December 2nd. I remember every feeling I had.



You know when your baby is cold you cover them up more and maybe put a hat on them. Put socks on if they don't already have them..? After I had Jayce, he was cold. Without thinking about it, I tried to make him warm. I bundled him up a little tighter. I made sure his socks were still on. I put a blanket over us, as he was laying on me. He never got warmer though. It wasn't until a few weeks later that I remembered that I did that. Of course by this time I knew why he wasn't getting warmer, but in the hospital it didn't click. After your baby dies your whole thought process is screwed up. You do things without realizing. You say things you may not otherwise say. At least for me, this was how it was.



2 months after his birth, I got a tattoo for him.. and me.

That is Jayce's footprints. I put them on my foot. For me, it means he is ALWAYS walking next to/with me. Whenever I look down, I see him. People ask me about this tattoo all the time. The normal first question that they will ask is "is that a real tattoo?" Sometimes I wanna say "no, I dip my baby's feet in ink everyday and stamp them onto me". lol But of course I just tell them it is real. Then they usually think it's my 2 year olds feet, to which I correct them and tell them it's his baby brother's feet! From there the conversation usually goes one of two ways. They either tell me how much they love it or they ask questions about "baby brother". I LOVE when they ask questions! As I may have said in an earlier blog, I love when people ask about him. I completely love talking about him. And I LOVE my tattoo!

When you walk in my house there is a frame that has 6 pictures of Jayce in it. This is my way of him saying goodbye to me everytime I leave the house and greeting me when I come back home. I guess to some, it may sound strange, but to those same people you've never dealt with this.. Of course I have the pic on my nightstand also. As my friend, SS said, I just wish I could add pics to the ones I have. You know, like the 3 months, 6 month and 1 year photos you get taken of your kids?

The 2nd of every month seems to usually be a bit more difficult for me than other days. However, this one is going by very smooth. I am very much at ease on this day. Of course I miss my baby more than ever. I am certain that he joined us at the park today though. What I wouldn't give for him to be PHYSICALLY there though.. so I could see and touch him.