A few weeks ago, in a class at church, I learned that my son, my baby that I never got to hear cry, my 2lb baby boy, is now an adult in heaven. This news literally broke my heart all over again, but through reverent prayer and the help of a close friend, I have seen the flip side. No, I didn't get a chance to raise my son, to send him off on his first day of school, chase away his blues, wipe away his tears, and kiss his boo boos and yes that deeply saddens me to think about. But what if.....what if my little man is a MISSIONARY in heaven. I know there may be some of you that do not fully understand my religion and I am in no way trying to force my beliefs on to you, that being said. In our religion we believe that if you do not get the chance to learn the gospel on Earth or you do not accept it on Earth, you have the chance to learn and accept the gospel in heaven. I think it would be absolutely amazing if my little man, my blessing, was up there blessing others, teaching them the gospel and how to be saved. I have never had the chance to experience a mission of my own and none of my children have reached mission age yet, so I don't know the true blessing of having a child that is truly saving others. While we are all missionaries in our own way (or could be) its something completely different to devote your life to doing mission work. It completely warms my heart to think that is what my baby Johnny could be doing.
His angel date is drawing nearer. My heart is becoming weak. I am becoming reclusive. I feel myself turning in. The mask is becoming heavy and I won't be able to carry it much longer. Please don't take offense if I push you away this week or simply lash out on you; please understand that I am an emotional wreck. I carry this mask around all year. The "my baby didn't die" mask. The "I'm perfectly content" mask. The "I'm super strong" mask. The truth is, I'm NOT perfectly content nor strong and YES my baby DID DIE. As we draw nearer to his birthday the mask gets harder to hold and I become weak.
This year I have had to be stronger than I ever have in my entire life. But the blessings....they have been MORE than abundant, I have gotten away from my abuser, won FULL custody of my children, and taken care of myself WITHOUT a man in my life. While I continue to raise my children alone I will never forget to teach them the importance of family and no matter what NO ONE gets left behind.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
- The weather starts to warm up.....2009 it was warm enough to have the AC on already
- Easter............2009 Easter fell in early April
- Spring.............Its that smell of lilac, the smell of life, everything starting to bloom
March I used to love you for all the reasons listed above but now I despise for those same reasons. Its like a slap in the face. Oh Father Time you play cruel jokes on us grieving parents. We grieve for not only our children but for what you have robbed us. He would have been five. He would be starting school in the fall, kindergarten. Would have been an emotional time. Putting his first day of school clothes on, combing his hair, walking him into that classroom for the first time and then letting go.....
But no I had to let go much sooner than that. I had to entrust his lifeless body to strangers while I...waited. Waited for him to come back to me in ashes....but I'm getting ahead of myself.
Would he have known how to tie his shoes yet? Would he remember the pledge of allegiance on that first day? Would he stumble through like his brother did? Would he enjoy the video taping entourage behind him walking to class or would his brother and sister have talked it down enough to make it embarrassing for him? Would he have been a shy kid, introverted like myself? Would he have been goofy and extroverted like his sister? What would have been his favorite subject? Can I just get the handprint Christmas ornament from his first Christmas school craft? Can I just go on one field trip with him? Can I just rewind the hands of time for just a little while? C'mon Father Time, give me a break! But alas Father Time doesn't have that kind of power.
So instead I beg, can we please just skip March this year? Can we just move right into April? I'm not sure my heart can take it this year. As the days creep closer and I feel March's warm breath on the nape of my neck...I know I can't.
Please March 14th, please don't come.
at 7:59 PM
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
I'm at the point in my grief, that I no longer want to share my son. it's a mixture of him being a part of my soul and I just don't think people understand any longer. I don't want to explain what happend, I don't want that look of pity or whispers, I just don't want to share him with anyone outside my other children. This very well may have to do with the events encompassing his death combined with recent events. I'm not too sure. What I do know is my precious son watches us from above in Gods kingdom and knows what is transpired here on Earth. I know I am taking steps in my life to ensure I see him again. I know all I have here on Earth are pictures and memories and those are precious to me. So precious that I just can't share him right now. Forever and ever my Squishy. I know you understand.
at 9:42 AM
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
As I evaluate the past six years of my life I have realized a few things. First I jumped unto a relationship much too soon after my divorce. My divorce was only final for a few months before I sarted dating again. I felt like I needed a man to make me whole and if you've been reading my blog you know why. Although I did not introduce my children to any of the companions I made and even waited an entire year before introducing them to big johnny, I still did not fully take into the repercussions to my children of a failed relationship. I am surely seeing them now. He knew how fragile my Annissa is, and he told how he'd always he there for her no matter what happens. He actually told both of my older children that but my AJ could care less because he truthfully hated big johnny, but that's for another blog and another day. He made my Annissa these promises and now, he doesn't even have the time for the children we have together let alone my children from my marriage. He said so many lies during our relationshipvthat I truly believe I did not know him at all. At one time I considered him my best friend. I know, how through all the abuse could I consider him my best friend? It's simple, you start to look past it because in your mind its your fault. He's made you believe it was because of something you said or did, when in reality its because if his own insecurity. But I'm getting side tracked. He won't even read my past blogs because it makes him feel guilty. I found one that u hand wrote before typing while we packed our house. I was just a few lines into it and FW told me to stop reading. He couldn't bear to hear the truth. How he appears to others. But that's ok. I'll he ok. And I pray all my kids will be too because FW is simply not worth it. What did I learn from all this? Look before you leap. Don't be so quick to start another relationship. Work on me. Spend time with my babies. Seek God first. And if it happens then it was destined.
at 7:40 PM
Saturday, September 21, 2013
As I sit here staring at the blank screen, I have so much I want to say but not sure even where to start. The last two months have been a whirlwind of emotion. Hell the past five years of my life has been a roller coaster. But, everyday I get a little wiser, a little stronger, a little happier, and a little "better". He hasn't broken me. He may have damaged me a little but I found the cracks, and I'm patching them up. Not going to lie, its going to take a ling time and a strong man to break down this wall I've built because I refuse to allow anyone the opportunity to hurt me or my children again. I think that's the part I'm still having trouble understanding. We had this conversation several times and his response always stayed the same, "if we break up my new girlfriend will have to understand that you and my kids come first". Sued I get it, you're over me and have moved on. While that's shitty, I get it, but for you to put some bimbo before your own flesh and blood? It sickens me. Again though I have found out that the person I was living with was a complete stranger. I don't even know him. He put on one Hell if an act. He had me fooled. I guess though that's what happens after five years, even with all the cheating and abuse, you stillput your guard down because well if he's such an asshat he can't be cheating right? U mean look what happend with our precious son, he wouldn't do that again, right? Wroooooong. Boy was I ever wrong. Like I said, he's a complete stranger. I wish his next relationship all the luck in the world, she's sure gonna need it. Then there are my older kids that I know this kids affected. They may never come forth with the pain but I know its there....and that my friends is why I put up such a wall. It's just not worth it. My childrens emotions are too precious a commodity. I will show them, teach rhem, help them to be strong. All four I'd them plus lil bean on the way. This is only a temporary set back. This isn't forever and we will get through this. As I cling to my religion and push forward I know He gas blessings in store for us. Just keep swimming. I miss you Squishy. I love you and think of you often. Please come visit me soon. I know I was all over with my thoughts tonight and I hope it makes sense. It helps to just "get it out".
at 8:36 PM
Saturday, September 14, 2013
The truth is when I was small I heard my parents fight all the time but pretended I didn't. The truth is when my dad finally left he took a piece if me with him and left me feeling vulnerable and insecure. The truth is the vulnerabilty and insecurity has followed me around ever since. The truth is I missed my dad like crazy when he left us but I pretended it didn't bother me. The truth is I vowed to myself even as a child that I would never bring my kids up in a broken household. The truth is I spent my whole life trying to fill the void my dad left in every relationship I was in. The truth is I never wanted a 9-5 career, I just wanted to be a mom. The truth is I was never in love with my ex-husband. I was in love with the idea if being in love, getting married, and having a family. The truth is I married way too young and was very unhappy. The truth is no man was going to full that void my dad left but I continued to look anyway. The truth is I was never truly in love until I met big Johnny. The truth is I stayed with him even though he abused me because I didn't want to let go of that feeling I had for him. The truth is I think the constant abuse from big Johnny is what killed our baby Johnny. The truth is I felt I had to get pregnant by big Johnny again because he was the only one that could give me another baby Johnny. The truth is I was over the moon happy when I found out Anaiese was a girl because I thought that meant she wouldn't die. The truth is Abel was a happy accident but I sometimes think he's baby Johnny reincarnated. The truth is I'm scared to death this new baby I'm pregnant with is going to die. The truth is I think big Johnny wants this baby to die. The truth is I've never been pregnant and alone and it terrifies me. The truth is no one has ever scarred me like big Johnny. The truth is I don't think I'm strong enough to handle the hand I've been dealt. The truth is I'm hanging onto my faith by a thread. The truth is I'm not sure I can do this. The truth is I'm broken. What you the reader does with my truth, well that's your decision, but I needed to let it out. I wish I could scream it from the rooftop. Even if I did no one would listen, and that's the truth.
at 9:46 PM
Sunday, March 3, 2013
The nurses wheels me into a small cramped hallway and goes to check on the c-section room. I felt like I sat in that wheelchair forever. Finally she comes back to get me. Big Johnny has to wait outside until they have me "fully prepped". I sit up on the table, sobbing uncontrollably. All I can think is my baby is inside me and he's dead. DEAD. The nurse tells me to relax and gives me a hug. Dr Rude Anesthesiologist tells me if I don't stop crying and shaking that he will not be able to insert the spinal and they will have to put me under. This goes on for another 20 minutes. They decide to put me under. All is dark. I wake up to Dr. F shaking me telling me to wake up. Big Johnny and my mom are off to the left and this incubator is to the right. I can't see in it. My moms eyes are red. Big Johnny says "I haven't looked at him, I wanted to wait for you". I felt emotionless....as if I was watching from the outside. It felt surreal like a movie. This couldn't possibly be happening to me right? I don't remember who was first to pick him up, but suddenly my son, my baby Johnny, was in my arms. He was cold. I looked down at him and my heart broke into a million pieces. I have never been the same since that moment. Old Lynda died right then, only to awaken a new Lynda, the one who's baby died. I held him close and I shook with sobs. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably as I continued to tell my son how sorry I was. I SHOULD.HAVE.KNOWN. I should have known. Guilt that I will carry on for the rest of my life. Each one of us took a turn holding him. The nurse took him "away". It wasn't until months later I realized they took him to the morgue so his body wouldn't decompose so quickly. The nurse came in and connected my morphine drip. I was on constant medication dosed by a little button in my hand. I self medicated the entire time I was in the hospital because I JUST COULD NOT DEAL. Everything went black again. I awoke and realized it wasn't a dream. I asked the nurse for my baby back. Tears again. I coudn't even look at him without the guilt. I kissed his tiny nose and each of his fingers. His fingers were so long. Something I only know from pictures because I was too drugged to remember. The nurse asks if I want to get him dressed but I have no clothes. She brings me clothes that other "Angel Mommy's" have made and donated to the hospital. I choose his outfit and she takes him again to dress him and take pics. His little yellow hat looked like it could fit his whole body. He was so small. We again all take turns holding him. I was the last to hold him. He nose began to bleed. I was confused, afterall I had never held a dead baby before. His body was beginning the decomposing process. It was time to say good-bye. Everyone begins to sob, but I have no tears left. The medicine and the shock has left me numb. I kiss my son good-bye......
at 11:24 PM