New Grief

My friend Anna and I had lunch with a new grieving mom this week. I was thrown back into many memories of missing Mary and coming home forever missing a child. Leaving the hospital without your child is a horrible feeling that is hard to explain. I had to do it twice with Mary. Both times were excruciating. One time it was temporary and one time was permanent. I now can't help but wonder if the first time was a warning of the future to come...When she was born she was so tiny and I had to leave the hospital without her. She was born pretty healthy but very small and she was placed in the special care nursery at Northside Hospital.  I had fought so hard to have this precious baby and there was no way I was leaving her at the hospital alone, but I had to. It was for just one night but it felt terrible. I remember forcefully and reluctantly being made to go home for the night after my personal stay was over. It was an awful feeling to have a new baby and then to have to leave the hospital empty handed. I got home and didn't sleep a wink. I called the nursery several times during the night just to check on Mary.  Then at 5 a.m. I woke Steve up and made him drive me back to the hospital. I camped out in the nursery until I aggravated the staff enough and they finally let me take her home. This is no joke. I barely took my eyes off off of her or slept for the next two years...also not a joke. I think I always knew deep down in my soul that my time with her would be short and I treasured every moment. I worried constantly she would stop breathing and I didn't want to miss a minute or a look at her perfect, beautiful angelic face. Somehow I just always knew she was going to leave me too soon.
Sitting with this mom at lunch I relived so many memories of losing Mary. It is really hard to go back there, and I realized it really wasn't that long ago when I was sitting in her very same shoes at the very beginning of this journey of loss. I don't envy her.  Now also a mom of 2 and not 3. A mom feeling lost, sad and alone-but not alone. So many moms are just like me, too many missing babies that should still be with them. But you still feel so lonely and confused. Sometimes it seems like a millions years have passed. The world keeps moving in fast forward and I feel like I am being catapulted forward as well and expected to somehow find a way to cope. It's very weird. I think in many ways I'm still in denial that Mary is gone and never coming home.  I sometimes feel her close and I think she will soon walk through the door of this house. A house we bought soon before she was diagnosed. A house built perfectly for 3 kids. A house too big for 2 kids but just right for 3 kids and 3 cats. Mary should be running around going to dance class, enjoying her friends, her cool room and awesome playhouse. If I think about it too hard I really just can't function. Honestly some days I don't. Some days I go back to bed, pull the covers over my head and hide or escape into fantasy land. Most days I do ok. I can pretend to be a normal mom and handle fundraisers, school carnivals, lacrosse games and cheer practices. But I am always missing a 3rd child's activities and that will never change. The truth is I can't go into Mary's room or I might never leave. I can't go through her clothes or her things because I become frozen. I just live downstairs and keep the basement, garage and closets basically unorganized in fear I will find her memories and just become paralyzed.  It has happened on many occasions. Talking to this mom who lost her son to cancer just mere weeks ago brought back the memories of losing Mary.  It felt like it happened just yesterday. Memories of me screaming and not recognizing my own cries. My begging God to save my child as she took her last breath in my arms flashed in my head. Driving home from Memphis with an empty van seat, a van seat that would forever be empty was all I could see. A restaurant reservation forever for just 4 and no longer 5 was stuck in my mind. I have memories of going to the dentist and being asked if they could make an appointment for Mary and not being prepared how to respond. I have memories of being asked how many children I have and bursting into tears in front of a total stranger who had no idea what they said wrong. How do I prepare this new grieving mom for these moments and the long road ahead of her? There isn't a proper way to prepare anyone for this path. It's rocky, rough, bumpy and long. A road no one wants to walk, but you are never having to walk it alone. This road I've only walked for a year and a half but this road feels like I've walked on a million miles already. There is no easy or right answer about how to tread. And sadly my other friend, sitting at lunch with us and walking the same path with me, has the same advice for her as I do. I fear all of us experienced grieving moms have the same advice, so I pray it is helpful and true:
Grief comes in waves. The anticipation of big life events seems to be worse than the actual events. The firsts are the worst. Try to forgive yourself. Be easy on yourself. Be patient. You will feel crazy at times and that's "normal". You and your spouse will grieve differently. You and your spouse will most definitely struggle. Take personal time outs if you need it. Sometimes you will look in the mirror and not know the person staring back. Cry if you need to. Be sad when you need to even if it is at an inopportune time. Let your kids see you grieve. Celebrate/remember your child even if it hurts. Be open and talk with your other children about their pain and fears and answer their questions. You will most likely have many questions and struggle with your faith. Smile and be happy when you feel it. Your other kids deserve to have a present mom, so take care of yourself. Get healthy if you can. Find time to pamper yourself, you deserve it. Find your purpose, if you don't know it just search for it. Rely on other grieving moms to help you through. They understand and only they can. The moms usually carry a huge burden of being the stronghold of the family. It's a lot of pressure. Just know that and try to relieve some of that pressure where you can. Let others help you. Seek counseling if you need it. Rest!!!!Do what you have to do to get the rest you need. Mentally you need rest. The puzzle pieces may go back into place but they may fit back together differently. Grief changes you. Your perspective is forever changed. I am sure there is more. Feel free to add if you are following and have more advice. Grief is hard and I am no expert. I am learning and growing and changing everyday.  I think I will continue to do so until I see Mary again.

Grieving Mom's Club😔

The "Grieving Mom's Club".  A crappy name for a club no one wants to join. But it's a club you desperately might need to be in if you lose your child to cancer. Yes I am in this exclusive club. It's actually an amazing group of women. Some of the most beautiful and talented souls I have ever known are also in this crappy club. Sometimes I look around at these awesome ladies and I think to myself, "How did I end up here? Wow, I feel lucky to know them but sad to have to know them this way. Couldn't we have just met at a book club meeting or park or something? Because meeting like this sucks." Many times people contact me when they know someone with a sick cancer child and ask me if I would be willing to meet their friend whose child was just diagnosed. I am always willing but I must explain to them that most parents don't want to talk to me. They are searching for hope at the time of their child's cancer diagnosis. It's not easy for a grieving parent to offer a lot of hope. I can offer facts and friendship but these parents need to hear successes not failures. If their child loses their cancer battle then they will need me and I will surely be there.
In this club of mine we need each other desperately. I don't think I could survive without these brave and extraordinary women in my life. They give me strength and hope when I lose mine. A different kind of hope though.
Hope that I can survive another day. Hope that I am not losing my mind. Hope that my feelings are "normal". Hope that my all isn't lost. Hope that my fear can be overcome. Hope that the fog will lift. Hope that the tears will someday dry up. Hope that I will find my purpose again. Hope in a future. Hope in a better tomorrow. Hope that I won't suffer forever. Hope that I can be happy again. Hope in so many things.
We are all different in so many ways. And most of us probably would have never met if it wasn't for this damn cancer monster stealing our children away from us. Some of us are in different stages of life. Some of us have different religious beliefs. Some have different pasts and upbringings. Some of us are married and some of us are single or divorced. Some of us are in different stages of grief. But what is the same and what will always remain the same are these things: We have unconditional love, respect and understanding for one another. There are never any judgments. We are always free to feel how we feel no matter what. We are always real, open and honest. We let newcomers in although we really don't want to increase our numbers. Sadly our numbers do keep growing and growing and growing. I do know this, that I am grateful and blessed for each and every one of them. And I would be very lost without them. If you unfortunately ever find yourself needing to join the "Grieving Moms Club" we will regretfully let you in. The entry fee is steep but the rewards are comfort, love, acceptance, hope, friendship and maybe some earthy peace on your journey with us. We will walk with you, beside you and sometimes even carry you. We unfortunately know how uncomfortable those shoes of yours feel. And we are sorry. 😔❤️