2 years out

I haven't been blogging much lately. I felt like it really helped me at first and for awhile after Noah died. I was able to get my feelings out, grieve, vent, whatever. And then I just kind of felt like I didn't need to do it anymore. I'm not sure why. It's not like anything has changed. I guess as you move along in the grieving process, the way you grieve changes. It's ever evolving. You always grieve after you lose a child. That never goes away. But how you do it is different as time goes on. 

Which brings me to now - Sunday marks 2 years since Noah died. I cannot believe it. I cannot believe that as each day passes, it's another day that I don't get to be with my baby. I don't feel I get the adequate time to grieve these days. After 2 years people don't ask you about it as much, talk about it, focus on it, etc. They expect you've moved on and are "ok" now. It always helps to talk about how I feel. Have a real good break down session where I just cry it all out. They are much fewer and farther between now. But those usually just happen with my husband, mom, sister, or therapist. So I thought maybe if I started writing my feelings down, I'd feel like I was getting it out. After 2 years, this is how I feel: So incredibly messed up in the head! That is the best way I can describe it. Not like a crazy person, but imagine how hard and emotionally draining it is to be so happy, yet so miserable, every single day of your life. I don't feel in control of my emotions. On any given day I am happy, smiling, laughing, enjoying my amazing life with my beautiful son Oliver. We take trips, go fun places, and overall live a pretty great life. And that is totally me. I really am happy. It's not fake, it's not for show (as it once was some time ago). Yet I'm also heartbroken and sad. It's hard to describe. It's like I can talk about Noah, even the day he died and not cry. I can remember all the great memories, moments that defined his life and mine. But then something like a stupid episode of greys anatomy where a grown man dies will send me into hours of hysterical crying. Certain things bring me back to the feelings I had when he died and right after. Those times were so depressing, so dark, such a blur. I don't ever want to go back there. And when I do, it's hard to get out of. I think now, as my therapist says, I box up my grief and only unpackage it when I feel it's right. Sometimes I'm ok with that, but sometimes I feel bad. It's a constant balance. Trying to be the best mom you can be to a living child and a child who has died. Oliver is here and my main focus is on taking care of him of course. But even when your child is gone, you don't ever stop feeling the need to take care of them. They are still your baby, a part of you. So I make Noah things, bring them to his grave site. Make sure it's decorated for each season. Sounds silly, but it's what works for me. It makes me happy when his grave area looks nice. How sick is that? I don't care if my house is decorated for fall, but as long as the cemetery is. And then I think of Oliver. How this poor child is literally growing up at a cemetery and going to Faith's Lodge. We are going there tomorrow (Oliver's 2nd time) and again for Thanksgiving. I dread the day I have to explain this all to him. But he knows his brother. I can ask him where Noah is and he will point to his picture. It's amazing. 

These are just a few of my feelings these days. It's an ongoing battle. It doesn't end or get better. It just changes. You just adapt to life without your child. There are those tough questions that I still try to figure out how to answer, "how many children do you have?" Or being at the grocery store next to a lady with 2 screaming children who looks over at me and Oliver sitting there in the cart and says "One is enough. Just stop at one. Two kids is insane!" and she laughs as she walks away. If only you knew lady, If only you knew. 

What I do appreciate more than anything in the world are those that remember Noah, continue to honor him, talk about him, have their kids send me pictures they drew for him, send balloons up for him, draw rainbows on my driveway, visit his gravesite, send me a note to tell me they are thinking of me/us. You have no idea what it means to me. And even as time goes on and people move forward with their lives, Noah was and always will be my baby. My first son. The boy who made me a mom and changed my life forever. He is the boy who loved Mickey, laughed as he crawled up the stairs, said dada, but not mama, he was the best! I miss him with all my heart and soul. As we approach 2 years I still thank God everyday that I got 11 months with him. I wouldn't trade that for the world. But I do live everyday now just hoping and praying I get to keep Oliver forever. Mostly I'm just really sad that I never got to see Noah grow up. I didn't get to see him walk or talk or go to school or get married or anything. One month from today he would be 3 years old. I can't even picture it. 

I miss you sweet boy! More than I could ever describe with words. You are our angel. Thank you for being the person you are and always watching over us. I am eternally grateful for our amazing bond. You are perfect and we will continue to do everything we can to do good in your name. You deserve it! 
xoxo,
mommy
p.s. looking at these pictures really makes me want to climb into the sky and pull you back down here. my heart aches for the day we can be together again, peanut.