I remember this one particular evening during treatment. I went to the Ronald McDonald Room, a large room on the 3rd floor of Primary Children’s Hospital where food is donated by organizations and restaurants for parents of sick children. Hayes had gone to bed and dinner was being served. I made my way down there so that I could have something besides cafeteria food. You walk into this place and no one is smiling…it is SO depressing. But I was desperate for some non-hospital food so I got my dinner plate and made my way to a long table with 3 other parents sullenly sitting in silence. Read More
My friends like to joke that I go into hibernation in the winter. They aren’t that far off. I ran into one of my neighbors at the grocery store the other day and she really seemed shocked to see me. Almost like she hadn’t seen me all winter! But the truth of the matter is, I do the bare minimum in the winter. I don’t like being cold….I hate it! I don’t have a thyroid so when I feel cold, it is multiplied by 1000. I have the gift of feeling obnoxiously freezing all of the time. So I actually stay inside most of the winter. As a result of all of these factors, winter becomes my most dreaded and isolating time of year. Then there is the fact that winter stirs up all the emotions of when I lost my boy. I am not sure I will ever feel kindly towards that season. Read More
I remember the day Hayes was given an official diagnosis so well. I was upstairs in my closet getting dressed when my phone rang. Read More
I get asked often about what it felt like to have 3 babies squished into my stomach. I can assure you, they were definitely squished in there. Well, two of them were squished, Hayes was as comfortable as can be. He was casually sprawled out under my rib cage while Heath and Reese packed themselves into the depths of my belly, pushing themselves head down battling for first entrance into the world. Hayes was always relaxed and happy with where he was. When I went into labor, it wasn’t a surprise when Hayes was the last to be born…the baby of the bunch. Read More
“What? This old thing?” Steve has teased me many times that this is my answer to everything when it comes to new clothes. I guess I need to own my issues. So I am fessing up to an extreme part of my grieving process. I shop like crazy, to fill the void that grief has carved. Steve had a major “intervention” with me today. With an undeserved empathy that kind of surprised me, he explained that he understood what I was doing because he “fills the void” in his own way too. Although he was understanding, he explained that shopping is understandably not his preferred method of therapy for me. Because of this, something has to give, I guess. Read More
I have something to admit. Remember a few weeks ago when I said I had gained the courage to take Hayes’ crib down finally? Well, I have a confession, I just moved his crib to the opposite side of the room. I couldn’t bare to take it down so I just moved it in front of Heath’s closet. I literally had to shove it out of the way every time I needed to get clothes for Heath. So at least twice a day. But, I just couldn’t do it. The thought of taking it down felt like letting go of my baby. The guilt has been overwhelming. Read More
It was around 11:30 on Sunday night when I started to feel that all too familiar sting…the cyclical sting that comes on those special days and anniversaries. I realized that exactly 3 years before that very moment I had been getting prepped for my cesarean. I had unexpectedly gone into labor at 31 weeks 5 days with the triplets and my OB saw that my babies were coming whether I was ready or not. Read More
It was two years ago, right before the 5K and the babies first birthday. We were finishing up Hayes’ second round of chemo and I was still feeling naively optimistic. All I cared about was getting out of the hospital for the 5K and celebrating the babies. Hayes was sleeping in his hospital crib and I was sitting on the fold out plastic couch in my daily “uniform”….sweats. We were in the corner room of the cancer unit. There was a double door to get into our room and you couldn’t hear a sound. We were completely closed off from the world in our little corner that overlooked the Salt Lake Valley. Read More
The past few weeks, I lay my babies down for their daily naps and inevitably, they end up talking to each other under their doors across the halls. At first it is really sweet and then all hell breaks loose and Heath is kicking the door….laying on his back, pounding the door with his feet. Yesterday was another one of those days and I found myself feeling more and more angry with each loud kick of his door….sometimes I just need a break from my kids, I will be honest! So needless to say I was frustrated. Read More
It is so interesting reading everyone’s New Years resolution posts about a desire to simplify. A desire to purge their homes and lives of unnecessary things. That has been my life for as long as I can remember. I was always taking things to Goodwill and felt zero attachment to inanimate objects and things. I lived the simple life & put all of my attention into decluttering, reorganizing and simplifying. And then Hayes got sick.
Now, I can’t get rid of anything. I am now the lady on “Hoarders” that can’t get rid of a pencil because someone she loves looked at it once. For reals, I am that lady! I can’t get rid of anything. I have closets of baby toys, clothes, blankets, medical supplies, used binkies and even hundreds of blurry Hayes pictures on my phone that I refuse to let go of because they remind me of Hayes. I will look at a shirt and think, “I can’t get rid of this….it has been over a year since I wore it, but I remember I was wearing it when Hayes got done with surgery. I held him in this shirt!”
While I completely recognize that there is no rationalizing this, I am at a stage of my grieving process where unorganization and fear of getting rid of something important is at the forefront. I worry so much that getting rid of that shirt I wore is like getting rid of him. I hold onto anything that even remotely ties itself to Hayes. Anything that ties me to Hayes. The very thought of losing these sends me into a panic.
I was really starting to wonder if this was the new me. But as I was laying in bed tonight, I was scrolling through Pinterest and a “Stages of Grief” diagram showed up in my feed. I looked through it and realized I am at one of the stages. Ugh! I am in a “stage”.
As much as I am annoyed by this current stage, I continue to embrace the emotions that come and go. I definitely feel a patience with myself that I haven’t had in the past. I hope to get to the point where I can just hoard the emotions and not the things. Hayes is in my heart anyway….not in that sweatshirt I wore almost a year and a half ago.
I also recognize that this diagram is not a one size fits all. I have found comfort in reaching out and watching others in their own loss journey. I met Carlie when Hayes was in his second round of treatment. I spotted her and her husband across the hall with their newly diagnosed little boy that looked exactly the same age as Hayes. As it turned out, Cohen was the same age and Carlie and I bonded over our similar situations. I cheered with her when Cohen did well, my heart broke when she received bad news and I was completely devestated when she also lost her little boy to this terrible disease and as a result becoming a sister in this unchartered territory.
Carlie is a women’s nurse practitioner and certified midwife that shares her journey on her blog, Carlie the Midwife. She gives incredible advise and shines a light on her own loss and women’s health and laces it all with well timed humor. I adore her! Her post on grieving the loss of a loved one felt like it was a page ripped from my own heart. Feeling grateful that I don’t have to venture into loss alone.
Read more about Carlie: