Under The Tree - February 2009

http://scarletriver26.blogspot.com/2009/02/under-tree-february.html
How long have you been blogging for? Why did you start? What do you want from writing?
My name is Julie, I have been blogging since June 2008, it was just recipes though, no thoughts, I was really trying not to think too much then. A Blog was just a way to keep some recipes together for a job I was doing. But I discovered a blog is a very useful tool.
I started this blog about Thomas only a week and a half ago, after I discovered Carlys "Names" blog and "Love Reigns". I read stories from some other followers blogs, I was motivated. I wanted to make a memory scrapbook blog and have all the emails that I wrote about Thomas and pictures and poetry safely in the one place. I had emails stashed in 2 different computers and on the internet. Photos were not very easy to find either. I felt that it was time to get everything one place. It is Thomas' Anniversary tomorrow, he died on the last day of summer last year (29th February). It was a leap year last year, so we are recognising the 28th as his anniversary this year. There is a kind of audit of my feelings going on at the moment.
I probably would have left my blog at that point (just as a memory page) until Carly invited us to come under the tree. So here I am for the very first time sharing my feelings directly on my blog. I feel that I kind of belong here. I can relate to so many of your stories, thoughts and feelings.
Where is safest place for you to share your feelings? Is there anywhere you feel completely accepted just being however you are really feeling?
I haven't really found a public place to share my feelings yet. I can say anything to my counsellor, that is important. I go to a group, but the group is about everyone, not just about me. It's important to be sensitive.
Can you recommend any books that you have read that have given you a new insight, hope or courage in this new life you find yourself in?
I read a book called "The Shack". Its about a man whose daughter goes missing and how he changes over the years that follow, and about his pain, how he comes to a place of peace within himself, and about how he comes to a place of peace with God.
He was angry at God for a long time. I have been angry at God too. I have sometimes felt like a failed Christian, because all my prayers (and everyone elses) didn't bring about healing. The Bible gives me hope, it brings peace into my life. I don't feel very courageous.
How would you describe yourself before you lost your baby. How have you changed, who are you today?
I was not a very emotional person. I probably lived on the surface of things. I was very independent. I didn't know much about grief, or about or deep emotional pain. I had no idea how someone that lost a baby would feel.
I am still a mother, I would rather do things with my other 3 boys, than talk on the phone or do housework. I have been a little more emotional towards my children than I ever have. I feel like I have more capacity now. I am still a bit of a mess (see some of my poetry). I am still living with a huge box in the middle of my living room filled with most of Thomas' things. It has a pram, car seat, bath, change mat, I don't know what else, but it is a big box. I still haven't finished the thank you notes from his funeral. I don't think I will. I didn't want my baby to die and I don't want to thank anyone for coming to his funeral. I have also noticed that I don't want to wear my old clothes anymore, the ones that I wore when I was pregnant and before I was pregnant. There are too many memories in those clothes.
How do you think you are coping? Do you see any light in this road or is it all dark right now? Where do you imagine yourself to be in a years time?
I am conscious of letting my grief take its course. Shutting it down can mean getting really sick and I dont want that to happen. I wrote this on my blog "Grief is not logical, I do not know where it will take me day by day, but I have found that it is better if I don't resist, it is better if I let it take me where it will."
In one years time I hope that I will be able to function more naturally. That I will have more friends, that I will care more if the house is clean, I will care more about looking after my body.

Thomas' name in the sand

http://namesinthesand.blogspot.com/

in the snow at Whistler

in the little bit of sand on Pebble Beach on Martha Point Mornington Peninsula

If I Wished on Wishes

Memories are the places I go to enjoy
Time spent quietly with my little boy
Sometimes others see that I've gone
Mostly, before they know it, I'm home.
Longer vacations might take all day.
Those are the days I stay in Pj's.

But

Since I lost you I can't stop searching.
I do it without even thinking.
I've Googled your name, and searched the maps,
panned North and South and zoomed up close.
You're not on the social networking sites either,
The picture isn't yours on Facebook friend finder.

If you had email I'd send you one every day.
If you had a mobile I would SMS, Hey :-)
If you were here I would take your picture.
And that cute T-shirt, it now would have fit you.
I'd round up a million memories of you as you are,
and store them all away in my heart.

I know you are somewhere nearby,
not in the ground and not in the sky.
You are somewhere that I cannot go,
I'll still keep on looking for you, even though,
I know it wont be you when I get close
(because life is better when lived with hope).

Its just not fair that you went so soon,
I know you were ready, I suppose I was too,
And I know its not a permanent goodbye.
But, I miss you. I miss you all of the time.
And, if I wished on wishes, my wish would be to,
hold you again, and remember every part of you.

by Julie Cozens

The Shoes I Wear

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I dont think I can take another step
Yet I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
There are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in other's 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 realise that I am not the only person that wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in the world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have worn these shoes so long that days go by before they think of 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 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.

Author unknown

The Truth

"You are a great God.
Your character is Holy.
Your truth is absolute.
Your strength is unending.
Your discipline is fair.
Your provisions are abundant for our needs.
Your light is adequate for our path.
Your grace is sufficient for our sins.
You are never early, never late.
You sent Your Son in the fullness of time and
will return at the consummation of time.
Your plan is perfect.
Bewildering. Puzzling. Troubling.
But perfect."
- Max Lucado

When Tears and Broken Hearts Agree

Commission new life, with hope
our brand new person,
first child, a brother, grandson
love dwells in every thought

Belly swells, a promise of life
fluttering begins, plans take shape
changes inside, waiting outside
the craftsman takes time

Stories told in the dark of night
how he will this
and I will that
excitement and longing grows

Scenes imagined on cue
malls an ever flowing baby parade
modern strollers, co-ordinated, accesorised
proud mums, I thought I'd be one too

Finely tuned, expertly crafted
so delicate, so dependant in the womb
doctors watch and wait, a few weeks more
horizon growing stormy, cold with fear

My child, my baby so close inside me
helpless to help him, pray
please let him be born Lord
alive to see his daddy's face

Hope and wait, pray and pray
parents today, a cry signals relief
now we are three, happy
marathon ran, all survived

Preparation is never enough
on the backdrop of fluffy blankets
minds wrestle to grasp
reality of anatomy gone wrong

Unknown words tumble forth
Patient and kind doctors explain
Surgery, transfer, emergency transport
first we will bring him in,

Maker made him, picked just for us
He knew we loved him
right from when he was really small
best place now, third floor somewhere really huge

Education, information learned, relayed
BP, HR, platelet, chromosome
too much, not enough, chimes call out
intense, neonatal, intense

Surgery stopped, the best know when
delay will save lives, he'll be stronger then
baby so still, so many machines
time passes by in fifteen minute alarms

Hope floats then drowns
be brave, stay positive, pray
make milk, it's something only I can do
cherish life, collect memories, be there

Belief outstrips, setbacks overcome
success, anatomy at last set right
hope and wait, pray and pray
Soon we will be a family at home

Created for a season, a purpose
time to leave, dignity
no more to be done, circle closing
tears and broken hearts agreed

Peace, loving arms our parting gift
yours, a whisper on the wind
richer and wiser we grew
welcoming and farewelling you

Bereaved, desolate days without end
patience till we meet in the next place,
we'll wait to see you there
in the garden, not on the third floor

From the heart of a bereaved Mother

This is now what "normal" is...
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.
Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable with a funeral than a wedding or birthday party...yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.
Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is having the TV on the minute I walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like he is my baby's age. And then thinking of the age they would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".
Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and their birthday and survive these days.
And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really.
Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special my baby loved. Thinking how he would love it, but how he is not here to enjoy it.
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.
Normal is making sure that others remember them.
Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.
Normal is taking pills, and trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies being referred to as cadavers, when you know they were once someone's loved one.
Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child.
Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.
Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yet never having met any of them face to face.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my baby is in heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why healthy babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.
Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have two children or one, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have 1 child to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.
Normal is avoiding McDonald's and Burger King playgrounds because of small, happy children that break your heart when you see them.
Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours and asking if there even is a God.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".
------ author unknown ------