2 Years- this is my life

This past Sunday marked 2 years since my daughter died. The time that has passed has seemed such a dream. Almost like there are two lives I live now. One life is for my son Xander. I love him so much and he needs to be taken care of. So I love him, laugh with him, play with him, then he's ready for bed, which is daddy time so I get goodnight loves. That life I get up every morning and go to work because its necessary for Xander and the family. I spend the day as "work me" the happy/funny/ proactive me.

 Then the other life I live. The one where time is still, daunting, and cruel. The rest of this life is spent alone, even when my husband is at my side. This life is the life where I long for the 3 year old who should be running around. I long for the 2nd car seat that should be in the car. I long for the words she would have learned by now, the silly conversations and the curious questions. My arms long to hold her and hug her and hold her hand as we walk. That life stays the same. I don't function well in that life. After Xander goes to bed there is TV watching or cell phone playing. There's minecraft. All the things Sean and I do because nothing seems to matter in this life. We do laundry when we need clothes cleaned, but rarely are they nicely folded and put in drawers, clean clothes sit in baskets on the floor. We don't do the dishes as often as we should, and cleaning is done when visitors are coming. Projects are just ideas that rarely get acted upon. I feel like that happiness I had when life with Sammie existed left with her and there is just emptiness.

How cruel this life has become. I gained a lot of weight after she died. I was pregnant with Xander and gained too much and after having him I never had the energy to do anything. Even now when I try so hard to find motivation to lose weight....we pick up dinner on the way home because cooking takes effort, and my effort is spent in my other life for Xander.

I miss her with all my heart. I don't know what the future will hold for Sean and I, but i know it is not with her. Yes I am religious and my religion says I will be her mother again and will raise her, but first i have to make it through what is here now. The promise of the future has been a lifeline from complete breakdown of life and self, but it does not fill the emptiness. The emptiness that I will feel into my old age. Only then in my old age may God have mercy on me and let me finally cross over into the entirely new life where she may yet exist.

Where was my miracle

As I mentioned in a previous post, I read a lot of news articles. Yahoo is my favorite because of the vast variety of topics from world news, to celebrity gossip, to fun facts, and even sports news. I also like to read the local news from KSL. I like knowing what is going on around me. It also helps in conversation when I can site something I've read.

I try to not read stories that have to do with children being injured or killed. It's still so raw and I know my emotions can't always handle it. The worst is to read about people's "miracles" when their child survives something, especially if its involving choking or a child coming back after they stop breathing. These stories talk about the miracle in their child surviving. How beyond Doctors expectation a child gets better, doesn't suffer long term effects, things like that. I am happy for these people because no one should EVER have to have their young child die. No one. Ever.

I read a story today about a women whose 9 month old stopped breathing. She thought she was choking and she tried back blows and nothing was working. She called 911 and within 2-3 minutes a police officer was there. The police officer took the child, administered back blows, and the child started screaming--breathing---saved. She said that from making the 911 call to having her daughter breathe again was 4 minutes.

I gave my daughter back blows. She started breathing again but she was in obvious pain and could make a labored crying noise. We knew in minutes something was still wrong so ran to the car and raced to the nearest insta care down the street. In the car was when she stopped breathing again and I tried to start chest compressions with her laying on my lap. I carried her limp body into an empty lobby and screamed for help. Two doctors took her into a room and raced to get her breathing. They called the paramedics and I don't know if it was the instacare doctors or the paramedics that got her heart beating and her breathing, but they did it, she was breathing, I thought I got a miracle too. This was my miracle. They life-flighted her to primary children's hospital where a surgeon had to use a scope to get the pea out of her lung. But I didn't get my miracle. Her brain was too damaged from the loss of oxygen and she never woke up.

I've read stories of infants/children who were unconscious and not breathing for 30 minutes and even more, but they ended up ok. Doctors say from when she started choking they think 10-15 minutes without air. She should have been fine. Everything else was fine. Her heart was perfect. Her other organs were functioning, even her lungs were not damaged. But any of those taking the damage would have meant a different outcome, her brain, the only part of the body that can't be repaired, that's what was damaged.

Sometimes in my darkest moment I see that day and the events and wonder why I couldn't have been one of the lucky ones whose child comes home and continues to learn and grow and be. Did I do something wrong? Should I have called the paramedics myself, at home, when I could hear sound. That's supposed to mean its ok right? Why did she be the one that didn't make it. Why couldn't she be the medical miracle.

Why is there so much sadness?

Sometimes it's overwhelming for me to hear and see all the sadness there is. Here I am struggling to live day to day from my own sadness and it seems everyday I read a story about someone else who now has to leive with complete sadness too.

I spend a lot of time reading news articles online. My favorite sites are yahoo and ksl. Yahoo has different stories each day. From entertainment to international news, to local home town stories, and general news of happenings throughout the country. Ksl is a local news station here where I live so all their stories are local. What gets at my heart strings the most is the stories about child abuse. More specifically there is a lot, and seriously most of the child abuse is done by the parents. I look at these people and wonder how they could possibly do this to their own children. Don't they realize how precious these little children are? How lucky they are to have them in their lives? How sweet and innocent they are? Why don't they offer them the beauty of love and the world. Every day I long to hold my daughter and raise her to be a strong wonderful women.....but I can't. Why can't they?

Even now I sit here and wonder how I could ever find happiness in the world when my heart breaks every time I hear about another child sent to heaven, accident or not, it makes me cry. i don't want anyone to have to go through what I do. It's just so sad on this side of it.

Asking For Help

I am a strong person and never want to ask for help. When we lost Sammie, we had to learn to ask for help. We just couldn't do everything and were so shocked and in a haze, that we didn't know what else to do. We had people bringing meals, sending love and support, and constantly asking how they could help. So much of the funeral expenses were donated to us. The funeral home only charged for the embalming, everything else they did they did for free. The owner of the funeral home had lost a son at a young age and was so compassionate to us. The casket which was a hand crafted wooden casket was donated by the crafters who are located in the home town of sean's grandparents. I mean, we have had so much support that I can't even imagine where we would be without it.

But now, it's been a year and a half. We do a really good job seeming fine. We smile, we laugh, we hang out with family, we are ok, when we are around others. But we are not. We are a mess at home. Sean and I fight a lot because neither of us are functioning 100%. Our house is so embaressing. Sean brought the laundry downstairs to fold yesturday, but we haven't got to it. The kitchen has dishes piled in the sink and on the counter, and the table has stuff piled on it. Our bedroom is a mess. dirty clothes here, clean clothes there, belt laying there, tie thrown over that, sometimes hard to navigate at night. I mean, it's sad. And yet, I don't know what to do because neither of us can stop it, or fix it, we are just tired all the time.

So what do you do when you need help when you have convinced everyone around you that you are doing fine, Even now, I can't even answer my own question. I just don't know how to fix our home life when all my energy is spent being ok for work, family, and Xander.

July 4th Parade

"I started writing this post in July but never finished it. I thought I should finish it."

July 4th and 24th (in Utah July 24th is  a state holiday called Pioneer day. We celebrate alot like we do on the 4th, fireworks and parade) have always been a favorite time for me. The togetherness, the parades, the picnics and barbecues, and the fireworks. It is one month of the year that gets 2 holidays celebrating how wonderful it is to be part of the USA and the LDS church.

I love parades. Absolutely love them. For the 24th, the city has their days of 47 parade in down town Salt Lake city. In high school I went 2 years in a row with friends. Leaving the house at 5 am to get a spot on the shaded side of the street. I remember us trying to sleep on the blanket on the street, getting Mcdonalds as soon as it opened, and making a chess board out of paper and playing that to pass the time. Later, as a college student, I worked for a clowning company that contracted assistants when Ronald McDonald was in town .he always came for this parade and I actually got to ride around with him in his little red golf helping him load the t-shirt/confetti launcher, and other things he needed.

This year, we went to Rexburg ID for the holiday to spend the weekend with my brother and his family who live up there. my younger sister and her family and my parents came up too. As I sat and watched the parade and watched the kids picking up all the candy being thrown, I imagined dear sweet Samantha, dressed in red, white and blue, a bow in her barely there hair, and joy across her face. It became too much for me and I had to walk away. I walked down the street where I could gather myself. These are supposed to be happy moments of celebration but how can I celebrate when all I can feel is the missing hole in my family? I miss her so much. I just wish she was here. One more day......oh the things we would do together if there was one more day.

How to grieve

I have been thinking a lot lately about how I have been grieving Samantha. I wonder if I cry enough. Feel enough. Talk about her enough. This has been at the forefront of my mind as I have experienced the way someone else is grieving the loss of their child. I don't know this person personally, just through face-book. It has only been a couple of months since the loss of her child but she posts about it every day. Often multiple times a day. She posts everything. All her negative thoughts and feelings and anger. And, I don't know why I care, because everyone is different.

It's been over a year, so it's supposed to be better, easier. That's at least the feeling I get from everyone around me. Gone are the days of breaking down in the middle of a store. Gone are the days when I shouldn't struggle to get out of bed. Gone are the days when I can use mourning as an excuse to not see people or do anything. At least, this is what I think the world thinks. For me, I guess I was too good at faking it because I would MUCH rather lay in bed every day and cry. I would MUCH rather stay looked up in the house not going to family functions or visit friends, and I would LOVE to say all the negative thoughts rolling through my head.

But no. That's not me. I am not in the market of spewing my heartache on others. They don't need me to bring them down. Life is hard enough without having to live with heartache. I guess I have to continue to be"strong" and keep my misery to myself.

When is it Ok to Have Fun?

This has been going through my head a lot the last week as my family went on vacation to San Diego. It was just the three of us: me, Sean, and Alexander. This is the first major vacation we have had since losing Samantha. We went to San Diego Zoo, the beach, and Aunt Colleen watched Xander so we could go kayaking in La Jolla Cove. I legitimately had fun.  There were moments of absolute joy. An emotion I haven’t felt in a year. But at the same time, all these memories being made are incomplete because Samantha is not here. How can I be having fun when she should be there? The zoo would have been so much better with her. Xander had fun but he is only 8 months old so his understanding and amusement is limited. But Samantha, she would have been two and a half. She would be pulling us to each new exhibit, pointing out the animals, laughing and happy. I only took her to the zoo at home once, but she was much younger, probably 6 months old.

And then there was the beach. What fun it was to help Xander experience the water for the first time. We sat at the edge of where the waves would crawl against the sand. The water rushing over his legs, he was confused and full of wonder at the same time.  I grew up having family vacations to the beach. We went to San Diego once a year and we always spent at least 2 days at the beach. As I became an adult and looked forward to parenthood, the beach was one of things I looked forward to experiencing through the eyes of my children. I saw that through Xander, but in 18 months we never made it to the beach with Samantha. I have no memory of seeing her play in the sand, no tentative walks to the edge of the water, and then the moment of excitement when she decided jumping in the water was fun, doesn't exist. Just regret. I’m not sure how to separate these two feelings.

I worry that my sadness will take away from the life and happiness of family that Xander deserves. I’m not sure when it is ok to have fun again. Even now, as I reflect on our trip, I see the shadow of a daughter and how she would have made it all complete.  Part of me holds so strongly to the emptiness because it is all I have left of her. If I can’t see her in the shadow of life then I have lost her that much more. I fear joy. I fear happiness. These are feelings that confirm that life CAN and SHOULD go on. But it can’t, because then I have lost her completely.