Never let Corbin be forgotten...thoughts

It's been so long since I've wrote anything on this page. But I feel like I can share here. Like it's safe.

What I fear the most is that Corbin will be forgotten. It's different when you have a living child; they are always around, doing things, passing milestones, making your life brighter.
But when your child is dead...it's totally different. You LIVE EACH DAY trying to share their story, spread their legacy, continue their life.

It's hard.

I love my son. Don't you ever question that. He has changed my life more then you could ever fathom. Corbin was the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. He was the best in the sense that he opened my eyes to compassion, true love, patience, PATIENCE!!!, and the will to make a difference. He was the worst in the sense that I have never really felt pain until he left. I thought I did.
My boyfriend died in a motorcycle crash when I was eighteen. I've never written about this before. In the moment, it was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. I remember laying in my bed just screaming in pain. My soul was broken. But I also remember the day I "got over it". I remember waking up and realizing that I wasn't thinking about Brandon. I wasn't thinking about the way he died and I moved on.

But losing a child.

Whew.

Losing a child is losing a piece of yourself. Losing a child has no comparison. Losing a child defines you. Whether you chose to let that definition be positive or negative is up to you, but it defines you and the entirety of your life.

Some people compare losing a child to losing a pet. I will not apologize for the fact that I will NEVER.

NEVER

NEVER

NEVER

agree to that comparison. I lost my son, then a couple months later my dog died. My dog, my puppy, of TWELVE years. The puppy that was a surprise from my parents after begging for months, and months, and months, for a golden retriever. That day I finally got one. His eyes were droopy but he was mine. He was my Sandy. I loved that dog incredibly. I cried just thinking about the day he would die. After I got married, I took Sandy with me to my new home. I had to chain him up for a couple weeks so that he would know this is his new home and that he should stay close by, since a highway went in front of our house. He did great. He stayed close by, only crossing the street to forage through the neighbor's trash.
And they loved him.
They would set scraps out for him, knowing that he would visit sometime during the night and gobble those scraps up.
They asked about him, after he died. They asked "Where is Sandy? We left some deer scraps out for him but they haven't been eaten. Is he okay?"

I cried the day he died. I'm tearing up right now thinking about it.

Sandy was MY puppy. Even though he was twelve human years old, 36 dogs years old, he was always my puppy. He was gold, and soft, and the sweetest, most loving dog you have ever met.
But it was his time. He was getting old. His nose was grey and he started keeping to himself. I knew it was coming, but it still hurt when my father-in-law called to tell me that Sandy had died during the night, in his sleep.

BUT

losing Corbin was different. Losing Corbin was NOTHING like losing Sandy. Sandy was a pet, he was a part of my family but I knew he would die. I knew he wouldn't stick around forever.

I thought my son would stick around forever.

What more do I need to say? There is no greater loss in life then having to bury your child. Whether they were still in utero or 45 years old, there is NOTHING like losing a child and don't you DARE tell me otherwise.

NOT the same

I know I have written about his before, but please, please, please do not compare losing a pet to losing a family member. It is not, and never will be, the same.

I am truly, sincerely sorry you lost your pet. I love animals and it is very sad when one passes away. I had my Golden Retriever Sandy for 12 years before he passed away in his sleep. I had my son Corbin for three months before his heart stopped. Not the same.

I know most parents will never understand, and I hope they never do. Losing a child is a cruel, dark, and very sad time in a parent's life. We are not supposed to out live our children, it is just not the way it should be. But sadly it does happen. After Corbin passed, family members came out to say that they had lost their two year to drowning, another lost her middle aged son to a car crash, another to Lupus..and that was just in my immediate family. I hate that others can relate.

You can NOT relate, however, if you lost a pet. Don't even begin to say that you understand because you don't. You may think you do, but you don't.
Just do not say it.
Ever.
Ever.

Losing a pet is NOT "the hardest thing I have ever gone through"
Losing a pet is NOT "like losing a family member"
Losing a pet is losing a pet. Not your mother, not your sister, and most certainly not your child.

I want to stress here that I am not trying to be insensitive or hateful. I am just trying to let you know how much it hurts when you say that! As I type this I am on the verge of tears, trembling with a mix of anger and sadness. I just read a conversation where someone said losing their cat was the hardest thing they have ever gone through. Then someone said they understood, it was like losing a family member.
Oh how I wanted to yell and scream and make them understand.
But I can't do that.
If I yelled about how stupid that sounds to me and how hurtful it is, I would be singled out at the crazy, emotional mother who lost a baby. So I, as tactfully as I could, commented that I was truly sorry but I did not agree that it was the worst that could happen.
But they don't understand.

So instead, I am here, venting to my computer about how hurt and sad and angry that makes me. I cried when Sandy died, I reminisced about his life and the good times we had together. Then it was over. I had my  moment to be sad over my puppy but then it was done.
After Corbin died, I just wanted to switch places with him. I cried, and screamed, and grieved, and it was truly the worst thing that had ever happened to me. That grief will never end. I will always long for my child, to touch his toes, to stroke his hair, to kiss his little button nose. But I will never have that chance. I will never hold my baby again and that is the worst thing in the world.

So please, I beg you, do not compare the two. Losing any family member, whether pet or human is painful yes, but they are NOT the same.

So there was this post..

So there was this post on Babble, lets just say it was about "worst things about being a mom."
The title caught my attention on Twitter so I followed the link to read the article. When I got to the page, the first thing that jumped out at me was the picture.

It was a woman with a banana to her head, like she was going to "shoot" herself.

I skimmed over the list, barely reading, then left my comment.
"This would have been better with a different picture, I'm not a fan, but I agree with some of the points on the list..etc."

Did that sound hateful to you?
I didn't mean it to be hateful, I didn't type it with hate in my heart, and I certainly didn't use hateful words.
But apparently I offended a lot of people with my "lack of sense of humor".

The article listed things like
-worrying about your teen's first date
-that moment when you lose sight of your child
-getting the holy trinity of body fluids all over you with a newborn

Things like that.
It wasn't saying that the reader hated being a mom, or that she hated her kids; it was just talking about those crazy/scary/nasty moments that happen when you have children.

The thing that bothered me was the picture. To me, as an angel mom, the first thing I thought of was all those mothers out there who suffer from post traumatic stress disorder or extreme depression after having a child. Those mothers that really get so down that they don't want to live anymore. Those mothers who don't like their child and don't know why. Those mothers who really do have a problem and don't like being a mother.

On top of that, the whole list made me sad because I will NEVER have those moments or those worries with Corbin. I will never change horribly nasty diapers, or get thrown up on, or jump out of my skin the first time he falls. I will never pick out baby clothes or be able to complain about his teething or crying. I will never have any of those experiences.

In that split second, when my brain registered that picture, all those thoughts went through my head. When I left my comment, that it was I was referring to but I didn't want to bring everyone down by explaining why I felt that way.

BUT after seeing the writer post on Facebook that she had wrote an article for Babble and "according to the comments, the haters do not like it" the shit storm began.
So now I'm a hater.
What happened after is what I can only call gang mentality. All of her followers were like "oh no she didn't!" and ran over to the page to call me names, make fun of my lack of a sense of humor, call me a "perfect parent" for not finding it funny, and overall just ripping me apart.

I now had to defend myself.
I started off mad and wanting to make everyone feel bad for making fun of me. They had NO FLIPPING idea why I felt the way I did. But as I started typing, it didn't come out mad or even the least bit angry; I began to cry. I poured out my heart to those mean people and explained calmly, and very emotionally why I felt the way I did. I just wanted someone to be like "I get what your saying and I'm sorry."

A few did, some said things like "I'm sorry for your loss, BUT you have to remember that this is all in fun..." BLAH BLAH BLAH. Now they think I'm the depressed mom of a dead child that can't take a joke.

I was very touched to see a few comments that were sincere and apologetic. The writer herself took the time to apologize and offer condolences and did not try to explain herself. That I really appreciated, and the fact that she took the post down from Facebook. That really made me feel like I was heard. No longer was there a post pointing out the "haters" so her followers weren't all riled up and ready for a fight.

I wasn't trying to be that person that started an argument or made a big deal of something little. I really wasn't. I said I didn't like the picture and left it at that. I could have explained why, in my first comment, and made a huge scene about how inappropriate it was to have that picture considering the number of mothers suffering from PTSD in the world, I could have made an emotional show of myself crying about how this list offended me because my son had died, but I didn't. The hateful responses, however, forced me to explain myself. I was now the sad mom who couldn't take a joke.

Oh freaking well.

It doesn't matter now and I'm not going to check back to see if anyone said anything else. I just wanted to get this out. When you are in that kind of situation, don't attack people. Don't call people names and assume they are being a jack hole or trying to cause a scene. There are people out there who take certain things in a different way and we should all be a little more considerate. Instead of saying "what the hell is your problem?", say "I'm sorry you feel that way, can I ask why?"

The world is in dire need of more respect and better manners. We could all take a cue from the lessons taught in Kindergarten.

Interview

So I'm blaming my therapist for the fact I cry so much easier now.

I know it's cliche to say I had a wall up, preventing me from dealing with my emotions, but I think that's what happened. I didn't do it on purpose, but after my first therapy session, I realized that it had indeed happened. And I just cried, and it felt great.

I was really scaring myself, thinking that I had lost all emotion because I didn't cry anymore. I felt like a terrible mother for not bawling as I would tell Corbin's Story. "What is wrong with me?" I asked myself, way too many times.

But not now.

Now I tear up every time I tell his story.

Like today in my interview (YAY by the way, first interview in two years!!). My best friend, of 15 years, referred me to her company and I actually got a call back and was able to sit down with a supervisor and discuss possible employment! 

As I was telling him a little about myself, I mentioned the hours were what really attracted me and would be so great because I have a two year old.

"Oh, is he your first?"

Then there's that tiny moment where I debate whether or not to tell him about Corbin...

"Well, yes but I also have another son, Corbin, who passed away this past May."

And I feel the tears.

Breathe

Then my first thought is "Damn that therapist!"

Which then makes me smile, because it's not her fault, and it's not a bad thing. I'm not ashamed of the tears, in fact, I welcome the tears. They are healing for my soul.

So thank you Dr. Ryan. Thank you for helping me get past that wall and deal with my emotions.

Which I should add, my second appointment went really well. I walked into the office, high on happiness, because we had finally gotten our tax return which lifted a ginormous amount of stress from my shoulders. My therapist was happy to see me so happy and asked why I was in such a good mood. I started talking about our $3000 transmission incident, which led to my job search, which led to my schooling, which led to my first mistake engagement, which led to ex boyfriends.

shudder

So you can bet that conversation was interesting.

And that I'm thankful about the whole doctor-patient confidentiality thing. :P

Losing my mind

Ok. I don't know if this is "normal", but here goes.

I'm afraid I'm going to die.

There, I said it. I'm afraid I'm going to die! I have no illness or life threatening habits, I don't go looking for dangerous acts to prove I'm still alive; I have no reason to think this. But I do. Pretty much every week, I play some sort of scenario in my head where I end up dying. I don't want to die of course. This fear started after Corbin passed away and now I'm afraid I'm going to die too. 

It starts like when I'm driving down the road and maybe the car behind me is following too close. Then for some reason I imagine the two of us wrecking, I'm stuck in the car, an ambulance shows up with the jaws of life, then I die. Then there I am, driving 75 mph (normal speed here in WV by the way) down the road, crying my eyes out, imagining my own death. 

I just cry and cry knowing that my husband and Monkey would have to go on without me. And I don't know why I worry about myself. I do worry about Monkey, like if he sleeps for an abnormally long time, but I don't imagine him dying like I do myself.

The more I keep typing, the crazier I feel. I'm losing my mind.

Am I the only one? Please say no...

Bad day

So I'm having one of those days where everything makes me mad, everyone makes me mad, and I just want to punch something.
I feel like I'm drowning and no one looks toward my screams for help. Just go about your day, don't mind me! I'll just be here, by myself, trying to keep my head above water. Have fun in your lovely life, where you have no worries bigger then where you are going to eat lunch.

I just have a head full of negative thoughts and they are threatening to explode everywhere. God help me keep my calm. Today is one of those days...

Thank you

I haven't been a very good blogger lately. I started blogging with the goal in mind of attracting a wide following, posting neat, interesting posts, having lively conversations, and sharing my passion for photography and life. I wanted a blog that was fun to read, offered recipes and crafting tips; somewhere you could go and have many interesting things to read and talk about.
Then life happened.
I haven't lost that goal, but it has been catapulted to the back of the line of "important things to do". Like paying off Corbin's headstone, earning an income, and remembering to eat.

I feel like I should apologize but I'm not going to. The past few days have been hard. I think emotions and feelings are catching up with me; that the grief I have been avoiding by staying busy is creeping back in. I can't hide from it or run from it; it finds me at any moment and breaks me down. Combined with the beginning of Pregnancy and Child Loss Awareness Month, I just don't feel like being social or interacting with people.

I guess my point is I have to go at my own pace. Blogging has been really therapeutic for me and the fact that people are reading what I'm writing helps. There are people out there who hear what I say and they (sometimes) have something to say back! That is really so cool; to have feedback. So thank you for reading.

Just say you're sorry

If you have or know someone who has lost a child, I just want to share something with you.

It's okay to fall apart.
You don't always have to be put together or brush your hair.
You don't have to act strong.
You don't have to get out of bed.
You don't have to forget.

I feel like sometimes grieving mothers are pressured, in a way, to act strong, and put together, and to go on almost like nothing happened.

"Oh, your so strong though, you'll get through this"
You know what, maybe I'm not that strong! Maybe I just feel like laying on the floor, holding my dead child's blanket for a couple hours. Maybe I feel like visiting his grave just to sit and cry.

"Everything happens for a reason"
So my child was supposed to die? and that makes it okay? Thanks for that.

"God needed another angel"
Implying that God wanted my child to die doesn't make me feel better.

"At least you have your other child/children"
That doesn't make the pain of my loss any smaller. In fact, watching my healthy toddler makes me cry harder, knowing that my angel baby will never do what he can.

"You need to do *insert action*"
I'm sorry. Have you gone through this? No? Then don't tell me what I need to do. Telling someone they need to do something differently implies that there currently are doing it wrong. There is never a wrong way to grieve.

I could go on.
There are all kinds of sayings and phrases that society thinks is supposed to help us. I find that just saying "I'm so sorry" does just fine. So please, avoid using these phrases in the presence of an angel mom. She knows what she's supposed to do. She knows how she's supposed to act.

But sometimes, all she wants to do is cry.

You may not know...

There is a part of losing a child no one thinks about, something that you don't predict but makes sense when you think about it.

I never thought about it. I didn't realize it had happened till today. It's common sense and an "outsider" could probable point it out but being in the "storm" I haven't seen it till now.

My little world of me, the hubby, and the Monkey has been turned upside down. It has been shaken to the core and will never be the same. For the rest of my life I will always be the mom whose baby died. My hubby will always be the guy whose baby died. I will always be worried for other newborns and always checking their toes and hands. I will never stop worrying and never stop advocating for pulse ox.

I went over to my best friend's house today. I meant to bring fabric so we could be crafty and make homemade stuffed animals. I forgot. I was so mad at myself for forgetting because it was something I was looking forward to. I thought to myself "why am I forgetting everything!?"

"Because your still grieving, duh"

And it all kind of came together. My brain has been wiped clean. I was so focused for so long on medical terms, medications, doses, chest tubes, cardiology terms, oxygen numbers and feeding schedules; I can't remember anything else. It's all gone. Thank God most of our bills are taken out automatically. If I didn't get a bill in the mail, I would forget to pay anything. I don't go grocery shopping like I used to. I don't pay the bills like I used to. My schedule has been completely upended and is scattered all over the place. I have to focus and tell myself what to do. I used to keep a mental schedule of all bills and appointments but now I can't ever remember something from 3 seconds ago.

My brain is focused only on Corbin and the Monkey.

I feel stupid typing this out for others to read but I never thought about it before. My life will never be the same again. Ever.

I will always have a grave to visit. I will always have this scar. I will never forget.

My best friend and I ran a yard sale this weekend for my friend's mom. A grandma, her daughter, and the grandson stopped by to buy baby stuff. The first thing I did when I saw the infant was check his toes and hands. I looked for any sign of blue tinted skin. I can't help it. It kind of bothered me. Am I ever going to stop?

No. I'm not.

And that's okay. Corbin was born and he died for a reason. If I do happen to come across a newborn with blue toes I am now educated enough to let the parents know what could be wrong. I can save a life and it's all thanks to Corbin. I would never know about pulse ox and how to save a life if he hadn't came into my life.

So it may take me a while to get back into my old routine. My memory may never come back. We may go without groceries for a week longer then usual. But the knowledge I have gained from this experience is so important. It had a high price but it is helping me make a difference.

I hope you're proud of me Peanut. Love you baby.

You are my sunshine,
my only sunshine.

You make me happy,
when skies are grey.

You'll never know dear,
how much I love you.

So don't take my sunshine away...