Wednesday, January 26, 2011


I couldn't think of a good title for this post. AHHHH is how I'm feeling right now so I figured that about sums it up!

I find each day without Noah to be more and more difficult emotionally. Don't get me wrong, I can now "function" daily. I can go to work and "act" fine. I can go work out, hang out with friends (sometimes - I still feel very distant), run errands, etc. However I think it sometimes makes people think that I actually am ok, and therefore they stop treating me like a mom who lost their son. I don't want people to treat me differently or pity me. However I think a lot of people just stop asking how I feel, how I'm doing, surviving, etc. Some people are really good about this and others are not. Many people still write me private facebook messages, emails, send cards, etc. It really makes me happy because it makes me know people are thinking about us, praying for us and most importantly thinking about Noah. It's really less about me and more about Noah. I know no one will ever forget him, however I like to talk about him. He DID exist and he will always be my baby. My first born, my son who received his angel wings far sooner than he should have. Some people are so amazingly thoughtful. I have to say how touched I was yesterday when my co-worker brought me a beautiful solar light for the cemetery. I have been wanting one since it's always dark after work when I go visit, however they don't sell the decorative ones in the winter. She didn't even know I was looking for them - so it really meant a lot. I hate that it's so dark and gloomy at the cemetery. I like when the sun is shining right on him. I like when I see other footprints there or gifts that others have brought for him. It makes me happy to know when other people visit him. I hate that he is alone there. I wish I could go every single day. I wish everyone could go because I feel better when I know people have visited him. He's resting at a beautiful place - St. Patrick's Cemetery in Maple Grove. He is among an old friend of mine and a friend's sister. He's resting right next to a couple other babies as well. He's located in the most perfect spot because whenever the sun is shining, it shines right on him.

I just wanted to say that I'm ok. Ok is all I'm going to be for awhile. I'm miserable in my heart. But I can function and do things. I do sometimes have fun. Although it's not that often. I do sometimes smile and laugh. But mostly at the end of the day when work is over and I'm home alone with my husband the realization sets in that even though I am still a mom, I do not have those motherly responsibilities right now. My life is pretty boring and simple. What was is no longer and will never be...not in the same way anyways. And accepting that is the hardest thing in the world. To know that what I want most in the whole entire world is to see my boy again. And I can't have it. Missing you peanut.

Monday, January 17, 2011

life in a fog

I haven't written in awhile. Honestly it's because my words have escaped me. Usually I am never at a loss of words. I always have something to say/write (much to some of your demise! :) But lately I've really been in a fog. I just kind of go through the days, go through the motions. I feel like I live in a fog. My head is foggy. Everyone around me is moving on with their life. I'm trying to live my life as what it is now, but this is not the life I wanted. I want my old life back. I want the life where I was happy and fun and full of energy! Where I had my son and we were a little family of 3. But now I live a foggy life. Where I hold all the memories of my sweet peanut in my heart. Where I have to visit him at the cemetery. Where I talk to him but he's not physically here to listen. There are so many things that just aren't right. I sit in his room and cry and try to picture him in his crib, waking up from a nap. I try to picture the cute way he used to sleep with his butt up in the air. I try to picture him running around, climbing on everything. I climb the stairs and remember how he climbed those very stairs. I was cleaning the vents this weekend and thought about how he'd run his fingers across the vents all the time because it would make noise. I was baking cookies this weekend and couldn't find one of the measuring spoons. Noah used to always play in the cupboard where the measuring spoons were. I started to think that I bet it's under the stove somewhere from when he used to play with them. It made me smile and I could've cared less that I'll probably never find that measuring spoon. All I have now are these memories. I think that's part of the reason why I'm so foggy. Every single moment in life and everything I do reminds me of Noah in some way. So I cannot completely ever concentrate on something else. And it puts me in a fog. Somewhere between living in that moment and thinking about my peanut. And then there's always the future. That is so foggy. When we had Noah things seemed more clear. He would grow up and probably play sports and go to school, etc. We'd have one or two more children and life would go on the very same way. However now things are different. My viewpoint is different. Now I think when will we have more children? Will they live? Will they be healthy? Will I be happy? Will I just want Noah back? What will life be like in 10 years? Will I still cry everyday? Everything is so unknown now. The future is very cloudy. I realized you can only plan so much. And I am a planner....I wish I could plan my whole life out! But now I have to live each day for that day. I don't plan much anymore because I don't know what each day will bring. I just kind of go with the least I try to. I'm not a very "go with the flow" type of person. But life is different. I'm different. 

I try to make Noah proud in so many ways. There is a project in the works...but I will report nothing until details are all figured out! So it's a surprise :) But having something to focus on that would make him proud of me makes me so happy. I live my life for him now. I will never know why I got to live and he didn't, but I figure since I did live, I'm going to live for him and continue to do things that would make him happy and make him smile. I love that smile. I miss that smile.
This photo cracks me up. One Monday (daddy/noah day) I got an email with this picture in it. It said "Noey bought mommy a present!" It made me laugh out loud. To see his smiling face in a giant Favre jersey! I'm so mad at myself for returning this jersey. I figured I didn't really need it and I knew it costed a lot. I wish I would've kept it as Noah wore it. If I only knew...

Friday, January 7, 2011

3 months

It's been 3 months today. 3 months since I kissed your chubby cheeks. 3 months since I saw your smiling face. 3 months since I dropped you off at daycare in your cute new jeans and county fair t-shirt and never saw you alive again. 3 months since I changed you and fed you. 3 months since I got that phone call that changed my life forever. 3 months since I saw you laying on that hospital bed with tubes everywhere. 3 months since since they told me you were unresponsive and they had done all they could do. 3 months since I told them to take my heart so you could live. 3 awful, heartbreaking, emotional, depressing, unimaginable months. It's felt like an eternity since I've had you, Noah. I am forgetting what it was like to be a mom to you everyday. My reality now is that you aren't here and it's back to just daddy and me. We have no responsibility, no diaper bags to prep, no bottles to make, no diapers to change. Worst of all we don't have you. I still can't believe you're gone. I still think this happens to other people and not me. I'm still baffled by it all. I don't get it - I don't understand why us? Why you? I guess we will never understand. You deserved so much more - you deserved a life that was longer than 11 months. You deserved a birthday. You deserved to see the world. It's hard to imagine what you'd be doing now at 14 months. Walking and talking...God I wish I could see you do those things. It's something everyone takes for granted. All I know is that you had an amazing life for 11 months. But you were not supposed to die. I am not supposed to have a child that died. Our family is broken without you. We will never have a complete family photo, a complete family vacation, your future brothers or sisters will never get to meet their big brother. They will have to learn about death at a far earlier age than they were supposed to. This is not the life I wanted. But I wouldn't choose not to have had you. Had I of known what would happen, I would still choose you, Noah. You changed our lives, brought us so much happiness and love. I would choose you every time. 

As the months go on I will continue to miss you more and more. I will visit you today as I do every week. I will continue to hope and pray that you come back to us somehow, someway. That you continue to be our guardian angel and watch over us. I love you more than words. 


Thursday, January 6, 2011

Taking a second to look

Recently I find myself taking a quick second to look at things going on in my life and really distinguishing what is important, what is bothering me, what is right, and what I don't need in my life. After going through a traumatic experience you start to think about what is right for "you". Not to sound stubborn but I believe I have to do what's right for myself and my loved ones.

But this isn't just about those who have gone through a horrible experience, rather… it’s for all of you. You should really take a second and look at what's going on around you. What's stressing you out? Who is bothering you? Who is constantly being negative and bringing you down?
You only live once, and in this life surround yourself with those you care about, those who make you happy and finally those who give you strength. Life is too short to settle for anything. Go for something better. Take a chance, speak your mind, and eliminate your stresses. Think positive and help others, as you would expect them to help you.

Anyhow, that’s how I look at life nowadays.


True Meaning

Today I was thinking about the name Noah and how much I love it. And how sad I am that I won’t get to have a Noah that lives here with us. It took Scott and I a lot time to come up with the name Noah. We could not agree on any names. We even sat in Barnes and Noble one day with the baby name books and each made a list of names we like. We vetoed all of each others names of course. Except Noah. It was the only name we agreed on. We both knew that was going to be his name. It also had special meaning because my mom and Scott's mom were best friends since kindergarten where they went to Noah Wallace Elementary. 

So as I was thinking about all this today I wondered what the meaning of the name Noah is. I found out Noah means comfort + rest. Ummm maybe I should have realized that before I picked the name? Or maybe I did and I just thought, "oh well he'll be a great sleeper then!" I guess he's now a really great sleeper. I just thought that was crazy. 

But as if that isn't enough it gets crazier. You all know how rainbows now remind me of Noah. Even before he died our song was “somewhere over the rainbow” (the Israel Kamakawiwo╩╗ole version). I even remember it coming on a tv show once and I picked Noah up and danced around with  him to it and told him we were going to dance to that song at his wedding. ANYWAYS, I have a point – today I also was looking up the meaning of the word rainbow. For some reason I just wanted to know what it meant. It said “the rainbow is a symbol of the covenant between God and Noah.” It made me smile. :) 

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

A Bereaved Parent's Wish List

A fellow bereaved mom shared this with me today (thanks Brittianee!) and I wanted to post it. As a new year starts and the months continue to go by, I know people will think of us and Noah less and less. That absolutely breaks my heart. Because to the rest of the world Noah may be gone, but to me he is still my son. He is still the greatest person I ever knew, the greatest love I ever experienced and the happiest I've ever been. 

Today is his 14 month birthday. I miss you so much peanut. I'd do anything to see you running around getting into mischief. I can only imagine what you'd be doing. I wish I could know for sure. I wish I could hold you, hug you, kiss you. 

A Bereaved Parent's Wish List

1. I wish my child hadn't died. I wish I had him back.

2. I wish you wouldn't be afraid to speak his name. He lived and was very important to me. I need to hear he was important to you also.

3. If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child I wish you knew that it isn't because you have hurt me. His death is the cause of my tears. You have talked about my child, and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both.

4. I wish you wouldn't "kill" my child again by removing his pictures, artwork, or other remembrances from your home.

5. Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn't shy away from me. I need you now more than ever.

6.I need diversions so I do want to hear about you: but, I also want you to hear about me. I might be sad and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about him, my favorite topic of the day.

7. I know that you think and pray for me often. I also know that his death pains you, too. I wish you would let me know these things with a phone call, a card or note, or a real big hug.

8. I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over in six months. The first months are traumatic for me, but I wish you could understand that my grief will never be over. I will suffer the death of my child til the day I die.

9. I am working very hard on my recovery, but I wish you could understand that I will never fully recover. I will always love and miss him, and I will always grieve that he is gone.

10. I wish you wouldn't expect me "not to think about it" or to "be happy." Neither will happen for a very long time.

11. I don't want a "pity party", but I do wish you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I can heal.

12. I wish you would understand how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I am miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you.

13. When I say, "I'm doing okay," I wish you could understand that I don't feel okay and I struggle daily.

14. I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I'm having is completely normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So please excuse me when I'm quiet and withdrawn or irritable and cranky.

15. Your advice to "take it one day at a time" is excellent advice. However, a day is too much and too fast for me right now. I wish you could understand that I'm doing good to handle an hour at a time.

16. Please excuse me if I seem rude; it is certainly not my intent. Sometimes the world around me moves too fast and I need to go off. When I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend time alone.

17. I wish you understood that grief changes people. When he died, a huge part of me died with him. I am not the same person before he died, and I will never be that person again.

18. I wish very much that you could understand my loss and my grief, my silence and my tears, my void and my pain. BUT I pray daily that you will never understand.

Monday, January 3, 2011

A way to help

So many people have expressed that they wish they could do something - that they wish they could help in some way. I am going to challenge you on that. I thought of something that could be helpful to us during this horrible time of pain and suffering. I want to continue to do things and have things to remember Noah by. I've heard of people that make bears or quilts out of the Childs clothes. This way I could keep Noah's clothes but they wouldn't be all folded up in a box somewhere. I think it would be so cool to have a bear or a quilt made out of his clothes. Some you can even put photos on. Anyways, I started googling places and it got so depressing that I had to stop. So I thought I'd reach out and see if anyone has heard of this or knows of a place that does this? Thank you!!!