Owen's Spirit

I have had several strange encounters lately, and I have decided to believe that they are really my sweet boy letting me know he's here... and not that I am going insane.

When I was in the hospital on bed rest, my grandmother came and visited me. She handed me a penny. She told me that since my grandfather passed away (almost 17 years ago) he leaves her pennies when he wants her to know he is near. My grandfather's name was Owen... and that is who my son was named after. I held this penny the whole time I was in the hospital.

The week after Owen passed away... I walked onto my back patio, and there was a shiny penny sitting right in front of me. I decided that my grandfather (poppy) let Owen know that I would know this was him, and it would make me feel better. I have probably found 7 or 8 pennies since then, and I keep them all in a cupcake bank that my friend gave to me.

The last penny I found was on the morning that Eli passed away... I found it shortly before he left this earth. I know that this was Owen's way of telling me he was with Eli.

About 3 or 4 weeks ago... I began noticed that my desk in my office would shake when I was sitting here all alone... usually listening to songs that remind me of Owen or writing on this blog. Randomly, my desk would just shake... so noticeably that my monitor will sway back and forth just a bit. It will stop as suddenly as it started. I have tried to keep track of when this happens, to make sure it's not the washing machine, or the garage, or something like that. It usually only happens when I am home alone, and it is not caused by the laundry or the garage. I decided to believe that this is Owen too. I learned that it takes a very strong spirit to cause things to move in our world from theirs... and strong would be the word to describe my Owen.

When this happens I usually just look at his picture and tell him that I love him. But I decided that next time it happened, I would tell him how I felt, just in case he didn't know.

Last night I was laying in bed, waiting for Lucas to get home, when it felt like someone was nudging my leg. I turned over to push Mandy (my dog) away, but she was already at the bottom of the bed. I kind of turned to see if it would stop when I repositioned, but I could still feel something. Then, I heard a very loud cracking sound... it sounded like someone was on the roof. I was positive that no one was on the roof, so I decided Owen was checking in on me. I kept my promise, and I told him how I felt. It was the hardest I have cried in some time. Every time I would stop talking... the cracking sound would come again... so I kept going. By this time I was convinced that I was now the crazy lady who talks to herself in her room... but I guess I don't care. The cracking happened 3 times- each when I stopped talking. Then I told Owen that I was going to go to sleep, but that I hoped to dream of him and happier times. I heard one last very small cracking sound, and then no more. I stayed awake a while longer to see if it was just the house settling and if I really was crazy... but all I got was silence.

I slept better last night that I have in a long time.

If you don't believe in things like this.... that's ok. You don't have to, but I have to believe that he is letting me know he's ok and that he's looking in on me. <3

Four Months

Here I am, four months later. In some respects, it feels like 100 years... like that's how long he has been gone and I have been in this much pain. In other ways, it feels like yesterday when I was holding him and letting him go. I cried all the way home today. I can picture what my life might be like if it wasn't this hell hole. He would be a chubby little baby who smiled and laughed and I would be getting his costume ready for his first Halloween. I would also be sleep deprived and exhausted...and I wouldn't care because he would have been home by now. They told me that if things went well he would go home in September....

I hate that this is my life and I have to play out these imaginary scenarios in my head... and that when I do it feels like my heart is breaking all over again. I have no baby things in my house, I have no stories to tell. I have no little fox to take out on Halloween. I miss my Owen. I. HATE. IT.

Everything is still so hard, and I thought maybe 4 months later it would be easier. I guess I have more "ok" times... but the bad times are as dark as ever. It feels like I am suffocating. I want Owen back and I want him to fill this giant hole I have in my heart.

I miss you baby.

Stronger

People keep telling me how strong I am... that they wonder how I can just keep going. People don't realize that there aren't many choices in this regard. You can either go on living... or not. I really do think it is that simple at this point. I have to choose to get up every day, to go to work, to care about my students, to go through my daily routines. It is a choice, it is not automatic. I want to stay in bed sometimes. I want to not shower or brush my teeth. I want to lay and cry and hold Owen's blanket and yell at an empty room. But I choose not to (most of the time). Because the other choice is to not live. I have been in the place where I wanted to die. I wanted to be with Owen and I didn't want to have to live through this. I chose to go through it instead. I don't know anyone who has lost their child who didn't think... "God should have taken me too".

You do not realize how strong you are until there really aren't any other choices. The social worker told me I have a "pattern of loss" in my life. I lost both of my best friends, my grandfather, my son. Lucas lost his father, and both of his grandparents within one year of each other, and now his son. I think at some point... this "strength" just turns to hardness and coldness. I don't want to be a cold person. I would give anything to be "weak" and naive and ignorant and blissful. Strength is not an attribute I want any more of. I want to stop having to choose to be strong, I don't need any more character. What I need is some hope and some safety and some happiness.

Please God... do not send me any more strength building events until I'm 95. Thank you. Amen.

Baby Clothes

Lately I have had the urge to buy baby clothes for no one. Yesterday I saw a blue owl outfit while I was shopping. I love owls and I wanted it so badly. Is this insane? I didn't buy it, so I guess that's good. I'm tired of saying "I just wish". Because it doesn't matter. I have a dresser full of baby clothes that I "just wish" Owen was here to wear. What do I do with them? I don't really want to give them away because they were for him. I don't really want to keep them because they were for him, and he's not here. Not sure what to do with that right now.

Eli

What is wrong with this world. If this is how life goes then I don't know that I want to be a part of it anymore. My nephew, Eli, passed away this morning. He was 11 days old and he was beautiful. How can this keep happening over and over to so many wonderful and loving people? I just want to put my head in my hands and cry and cry and cry until such awful things don't happen anymore. You would think that I would have some words of wisdom or SOMETHING to say to someone when this happens, but I am rendered speechless. I know that there are no words that matter... nothing matters. Eli- you are loved and you are missed. I hope you and Owen are so so happy. I know we will all see each other again someday, that day just seems very far from now.

Eli's brother, Nolan, is doing well. Please send love and prayers for all.

RARRR

I am angry at everything. I am angry that I spent so many years being "friends" with people who are just the crappiest friends in the world. I got a call from a "friend" of mine two days ago. This person was in my wedding and one of my best friends for years. I have not heard from her since I found out that Owen was sick. Not when he was sick, not when he died, not after the funeral. Nothing. But 2 days ago.... apparently that was a convenient time for her to pick up her f*ing phone. I decided that I had one of two options. I could answer, and really let her know how I felt, or I could just ignore it and keep living my life without her in it, as I have been doing for some time now. I took option 2, and decided it wasn't worth the blood pressure spike to answer the phone. She didn't even leave a voice mail. It's almost laughable to think about, if it wasn't so f*ing disgusting. Even without answering the phone, I still walked around the house swearing at the audacity of her picking up her phone over 3 months after he's gone.... to what? Say hey? See how things are going? F OFF. That's what I would have said had I answered that call. I am not a big enough person to forgive that.

Insanity

A friend of mine said to me the other day, that if she were going through what I am going through, they would have to put her in a straight jacket. And I feel like that would be a welcome relief. Sometimes I just wish someone would put me into a coma and I could wake up when things were better, but then when would that be? Never. I don't know how to keep on doing what I'm doing. I keep having flashbacks of the NICU and of the doctor telling us he was gone. I keep watching the video I made over and over and crying and crying and I just can't stop. My poor baby with his beautiful swollen face I just love him more than I could love anything in my entire life and I don't know what to do. I feel so lost and like things are getting worse instead of better. My job is making me crazy and I fantasize about typing up my letter of resignation and walking out of that place and never having to deal with some of the petty and ignorant people who are so self-important I can't even bear it. Sometimes I physically feel like I will suffocate if I don't get out of that place. And then I leave and it isn't any better. I feel like I'm fighting to just exist all of the time and I am exhausted and I don't care about anything. It isn't a way to live and I am hoping that this isn't my life forever. Missing Owen is my life, but I don't want to be this person that I have become. I don't even recognize myself anymore and I don't know how to change, I don't know how to feel better when I can still feel my son in my arms and remember what it feels like to walk out of the hospital without a family. It is ridiculous to be trying so hard to just get up every day and float through my life... and I am, trying. I have never tried so hard at anything in my entire life. I have to tell myself... you should do this, because this is what a normal person would do, but everything is work. I am hoping and praying that things get better and that I can be in a place where it doesn't feel like I'm being punched in the stomach all the time. I just love him so much and life is so unfair.