Living with God and not us

Sitting here on Halloween night looking at all of the very special photos being posted to FB. All of the children are dressed up in their cute little costumes. Faces are smiling with happiness and joy. Parents are posting thousands of pictures. And they are all so very precious.

But the photos have an edge to them also. For this was to be Wyatt's first Halloween. He was going to be a pumpkin.

Like so many things, it didn't happen. Another first that he will never receive. Another first that our family will never experience. Instead, we experienced our first Halloween without our son, our child, our little boy.

We skipped out on the family function being held at a parent's house. It would have been too hard. Instead, we sat and watched Forrest Gump. Interesting selection as it relates in so many ways. Life REALLY is like a box of chocolates.

Forrest Gump is now coming to an end, so is this Halloween night. Next, will be Thanksgiving and soon the Christmas music will begin. I haven't decided how to handle these, as we can't skip out, they have to happen. But do we have to be there? Do we have to be present?

Thanksgiving is about being thankful, for that I am not sure I am, not just yet. Christmas is about the birth of a precious child, one who lived. Mine didn't, so I am not sure how to go about Christmas either.

As I was sitting on the couch, brainstorming ways to get out of the upcoming holidays, when I found this:



After wiping the tears from my cheeks and my eyes, I realized that I am thankful and I do have a child who is living. I am thankful that God needed my son. My son was perfect enough in every way that he was already needed back in the land above. He was our special gift, to God.

It isn't going to make Thanksgiving and Christmas better, but understanding this will make the holidays just a little bit easier. For my son is still living, he is just living with God and not us.

And now the feather is floating through the air, as Forrest Gump is over.

An Empty Costume

The costume was purchased by a Mommom at just 1 month gestation. Halloween was so far off, it couldn't even be fathomed. But, the costume was still purchased. It was then wrapped and place in a stocking for a proud Daddy to open on Christmas day. Immediately, the Daddy cherished the costume. A special place was made in the Daddy's closet so the costume could wait for the arrival of the special child.

At six months gestation, the costume was removed from the closet, washed and placed with a large pile of baby clothes that were also awaiting the arrival. Eventually, the costume was moved to "the baby's room". Neatly placed in "the baby's closet", to complete the final stages of waiting f0r the special child.

Then, without notice, the costume was removed from "the baby's closet", looked at one last time, and placed in a dark plastic storage bin.

It was never worn. It never touched the special child's skin. There would be no photos of the special child in the costume. Instead, it would remain empty.

Just an empty costume, in a dark bin that sits in what was to be a nursery.

No memories will be created and no first Halloween will take place. Instead, there will be emptiness from a dream that resulted in a loss.

I Love You But I Don't Even Know You

Yet again, "I Hope You Don't Think I'm Crazy" has been placed on hold. Sorry, I seem to do best with the posts for the mini series on the weekend, when my brain isn't focused on a thousand other things. Part 3 is coming, promise, just not until this weekend. I haven't forgotten, just side tracked.

So, on to tonight's post. It is 9:46p EST and I am just now sitting down to write this. I have put it off for most of the night. Not because I don't want to write, but because I couldn't select a topic this evening. I had so many to choose from. I narrowed down my choices to the following: Public or Private that is the Question, Quotes from "An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination" (because I fell in love with this book), or I Love You But I Don't Even Know You.

I selected the last one, I Love You But I Don't Even Know You.

Upon my return home from work this evening, I logged into FB. Damn FB, it's addicting. And yes, I want to go see the movie The Social Network, because I am that addicted. I am not addicted because I have to know what people are doing, no. I am addicted because I can't go a day without talking to my BLMs.

Back to the point. When I logged onto FB this evening, I came across a post that was shared by a few other BLMs. The post was called "A primer in dealing with dead babies ". It was written by another BLM who goes by Babs. I clicked on the post and began to read it. Immediately, it captured my attention. I felt as though my thoughts were falling out onto the screen (can't say paper, because blogs are part of a GREEN environment, everything is electronic now).

There are several, well a lot, of pieces of this post that I support and agree with 100%. Please find them below:

1. "We don't want to make the fragile grieving mother sad, now do we? We wouldn't want to "remind" her that she loves her baby. I'm going to burst your bubble: your good intentions are bullshit, and hiding behind them like a curtain is only going to get you in trouble. You are hurting people."

2. "Your dainty sense of selfish caution that makes you feel it's okay to deny the existence of a child completely. A child someone loved, cherished, wanted, desperately prayed and hoped for, held in their arms, cuddled, kissed, cried over and will never forget."

3. "A life flickered out of existence and we still have all these dreams and wishes unanswered. No first steps, first babbles, first grade, first love, first illness, first job, first broken heart... no hugs, no "I love you mommys", no graduation, no wedding, no grandkids. That little future is gone forever. All we have left is a loc of hair, a footprint, a bloodstain and a few clothes that touched skin now ashes floating in the wind. A mere memory."

4. "No mother ever wants to think someone forgot her child."

5. "Fuck you and your "good intentions"."

Okay, so there you have it. And yes, I agree with all of them, I agree whole heartily. Number five is harsh, huh? Well, not really, not when you have been in my shoes. This author hit the nail right smack on the head. She didn't shy off a bit. She hit it with one solid smack. And it's needed.

To those who have lossed a baby or child, you understand, I know you do. To those who haven't you never will. You just never will. It isn't something one can imagine without going through it, without living it. Just like I can't imagine the pain of losing a parent, you can't imagine losing a child, if you haven't experienced it.

But it doesn't mean to sweep it under the carpet, never discuss it, or as a good books states "act as if the entire pregnancy never existed", because it did. Dammit, I was pregnant for 29 weeks and 1 day. Everyone saw me pregnant. And now some, a lot, don't recognized it. I can't tell you how many people still avoid me on a daily basis, are you serious? Well, to those of you who do, number five is dedicated to you. Enjoy! Hope you feel like I have for the past almost five months.

To the author of the post, thank you. I added a comment on her post that said, "From the bottom of my heart! You are wonderful, amazing, and so very very right! I love you and I don't even know you. This is my first time here on your blog, but it will not be my last. I will be following from now on. You are so awesome for writing this!!!"

A Change in the Weather

A dark cloud was heavy over me since Sunday. The sun was gone and the weather was getting bad. Something happened, something changed.

It could be many things. A christening for a precious child, a holiday of scares around the corner, or finding out that we had only $838.00 left towards our lifetime maximum coverage for IVF.

I am not sure what caused the cloud to form nor why it rained because it wasn't in the forecast. I definitely wasn't expecting it to be overcast for so long. In reality, three days isn't too long to experience nasty weather, but when a cloud hovers in one place with no movement for three days, it is a long time.

Last night, I lost it. It was bad, and I couldn't help it. It was the first hard cry since July. The cry was bottled up for months and it didn't just spring a leak, it gushed out. Tears, sobs, and more tears. And the uninvited guests of Why, What If, and How Come were all present to watch the water works.

Today wasn't much better. Everyday since Wyatt has left, it takes longer to get out of bed. The motivation to get up just isn't there any longer. The desire to leave the house and go to work, not there either. The cloud of darkness was still there this morning. Still there, hovering above, waiting to release the rain. It didn't have to wait long.

Upon arriving at work, the cloud was sinking and it quickly turned to fog. It was complicating my vision and everything became blurred. I asked a friend to meet me for coffee and thank God I did. I don't think she expected it, and I am sure she was shocked. I have always been an "all together" person. Not today, today I lost it at work.

A cup of amaretto cookie flavored coffee, a shocked friend and thirty minutes later, the tears were dried up and the red face had faded. All that was left was the overcast sky and the dew from the recent shower. Of course, the day continued on.

Towards the end of the day, I saw the first ray of sunshine. A little message, from the same friend, made me place a call back to the insurance company. I called to determine remaining IVF coverage, as I had in the past, but this time I asked for 2011. The agent on the other side of the phone said, "before we get into your coverage, I want to let you know that the previous lifetime maximums will be lifted for 2011." I was shocked, speechless, and lost for words. I said, "I am sorry, could you please repeat that, I believe you have just made my life." The agent repeated the words she had said before.

It rained again, just a brief shower. An explanation was provide to the agent and then a thank you. Though the agent didn't decide the benefit coverage, she simply confirmed it, she had just made my day, month, year, no.... she made my life. I can now have the coverage again that will allow for another IVF attempt. (If you have followed Wyatt's Whisper from the beginning you will understand the need for this. For Wyatt was our "golden egg".)

Finally, the dark cloud decided to move north and allowed for the sun to return. Upon my return home, I told Brian the news. Immediately, there was a beautiful sunset, as the weather had changed and the whole time we thanked our angel.

Life before Death

I don't care, I have to do this.

I don't care what you think about me after reading this. I have come to the point in this grieving process, where I could careless about what others think about anything. This is my life, my story, my pain, and my journey. If you feel that you need to add you opinion on my life, then I hope this means yours is perfect. If yours is not perfect, then what gives you the right to tell me about mine.

From the day I delivered Wyatt and heard the words from the nurses mouth, I was a little rattled by the whole thing. I remember my nurse, Lelia saying to me that "you will receive a Grabose Family birth certificate, as Pennsylvania doesn't honor birth certificates for babys like yours." It was her job, she needed to advise me of that. I hold no grudge to her.

I do however, hold a grudge to the state, the congressman, the senators, and even the president. What right do they have to decline a law that say parents should receive birth certificates if their child was born sleeping. The parents, in some states, get death certificates. I was one of those parents.

Please explain to me how a state can issue a death certificate for a child who was never born, according to the state. Please explain to me how a mother can feel a child move and kick in the womb and listen to his heart beat on countless echocardiograms, but yet the child isn't alive?

This country amazes me. We can spend money to research life on other planets but we can't issue a birth certificate to a child that was moving In Utero. We can send money to other countries to help rebuild them, and I am not saying I don't agree with this, but we can't spend money to help grieving parents by providing them with a birth certificate. We can hand out death certificates like they are candy, but we can't provide a birth certificate prior to a death certificate. No, because in the eyes of congress, senate, and the president, a birth certificate is something you have to be able to breathe for.

Most states will not issue a birth certificate because a birth certificate is for a "live" birth. So then my argument would be, call it something else. It just doesn't make sense, how can one have a death certificate but not have something showing the lived first. Maybe not a "live" birth certificate, but what about a "Hey people, I lived for ____ weeks/months. I had blood flowing through my veins, my heart was beating, and I was growing. I was able to move and kick. I liked certain foods and flavors. I was a living person" certificate.

I found an organization tonight from a friend on FB. The organization is called MISS Foundation. Another BLM blogged about this group tonight also. We both discovered it at the same time. Please take the time to view this video. It means a lot to me, a lot!



Additionally, I have located the founder of the foundation. Her name is Dr. Joanne Cacciatore. She is a wonderful person. I found her blog and read a few posts, she is amazing. If you are interested in her blog, click HERE.

Although some may think that a birth certificate is just a piece of paper, to me it means that the world recognizes that my son was alive. I am sick and tired of people telling me things like "they aren't alive until they come out", "what you delivered was just a shell", and "he really never lived". Imagine being told that. His body is the only thing I was able to hold after carrying him for 7 months, after going through 26 months to create him, after using up all of our IVF coverage and not getting another embryo, and after happiness came crashing down and shattered every single one of our dreams.

Everyone should be entitled to a certificate stating they were alive at some point, before receiving a death certificate. Life before death, right?

I Hope You Don't Think I'm Crazy - Part 2

Hi there. If you are here, this means one of two things. One, you read my blog post last night, and decided not to call a local doctor, as you deemed I was mentally SANE. Or two, you never read my blog post last night and you are reading this thinking "Where is Part 1, did I miss it?" or "What in sam-hell is she talking about?"

.... Well my friends, if you fall under category one, THANK YOU. I can't thank you enough for supporting the fact that I am not crazy. Well, not yet. Just wait until you see what's in store for you tonight in this blog. LOL, then you can determine my mental stability yet again. If you fall under category two, sorry you missed Part 1. That's right, you missed it. Sorry, that you have a life and I do not. Just kidding. However, I do feel obligated to provide you with a warning. (Man, if I could make words on this blog flash, it would be perfect. I would have placed a big fat warning sign right about............................... here! ...........................) Well, this is the WARNING, you will want to read Part 1 to fully understand and/or determine if I am sane before proceeding through the rest of this blog post. To read Part 1, click HERE.

Okay, so time for the ride. Please keep your hands and arms in the vehicle at all times and enjoy the ride. (Really, I haven't lost it, I'm just having fun.)

Last night, after completing Part 1 of this series, I began brainstorming what Part 2 was going to be like. I had it all figured out. It was going to be about the dreams I had during my pregnancy. The dreams, which were about my best friend from my childhood. Remember? She was the one that I mentioned in last nights post, and said more to come on her. Well folks, as my life goes, there has been a change in plans. That's right, the post for tonight is not going to be about my friend and the dreams I had of her. That topic will need to be in another part of this series. Instead, I must blog about this day and all of the "encounters" which occurred. (Okay, it sounds like I am about to talk about aliens, but that is not the case.)

Upon waking up this morning, late as normal, I thought about the fact that I spilled the beans last night about "the signs" I was receiving from Wyatt with regards to dates and times. I questioned whether or not I would continue to receive more of these "signs". Sitting here typing this, I actually find myself laughing at that fact that I even questioned such a thing. That was such a silly question, looking back on it now. That's right, today the signs were everywhere. I mean EVERYWHERE.

It started this morning. At ll:00 every Friday morning, my team joins a weekly huddle at work. (FYI - work's definition of a huddle is a meeting. Special terms used where I work, sorry.) Typically, we all walk down to a central location to join in the huddle, but today the leaders were doing a live demonstration, so we needed to dial-in and attend at our desks in order to view the demonstration. After being on the call for a bit, I happened to glance at the bottom of my computer screen. I saw it, like it had come to life and it was walking out of the screen. 11:11. I quickly said, "Look at the time!" My coworkers understood and starting laughing. One of them said, "OMG, look at the number of participants." We were screen sharing so we were able to see the number of people on the call. It was...... 111. The entire time, I was thinking, "No one is ever going to believe this. You have to get proof. This is just, weird." So here's your proof.

When I snapped the photo of the number of participants (111), it quickly turned to 112. Therefore, the photo is showing 112. But get this, when the number of participants changed, so did the time. It changed to 11:12. And others saw it too!

Next, around 1:30, I received a message from a friend, an old neighbor, telling me she needed to share something with me. My friend, Brianna, sent me an email explaining her lunch break today and what she experienced. This was part of her email:

"JUST NOW on my lunch break - I hopped in my car to run to Bed Bath and Beyond and Subway - I happened to notice that my odometer on my car was EXACTLY at 110,000 miles. I thought "well isn't that IRONIC" and then I remembered your post! (okay I have to admit I'm tearing up even as I type this, don't really know why ..). So, I took a picture figuring that I would share this with you when I got back to the office. But then something even weirder (is that a word?) happened - just as I pull into the parking lot back from my lunch break, I looked at the odometer again and, I kid you not, I had traveled EXACTLY 11 miles and it now reads 110,011. Once again, I took a picture because then I was thinking "Ive GOT to share this with Megan!"

She sent her photos for proof and has kindly allowed me to use them in this post. Please have a look for yourself, it clearly shows the 1's.

Okay, intermission......

So, (work term) pulse check..... Everyone still with me? Ya, hanging in? Is it getting deep out there? Have I lost anyone? Not yet.... Okay, great. We have just completed the first part of your ride. We are now moving on to the second part. Please continue to remained seated until the ride comes to a complete stop, as this part of the ride will have you shaking.........

Welcome back, I hope you enjoyed your brief break. Lets continue our ride.

Upon returning home from work today, I was explaining to Brian about my day. I told him about the meeting and read him the email from Brianna, showing him the photos as I read. Afterwards, Brian looked up at me and said, "I think my car is close to the same. I am going to go check, I'll be right back." Immediately, he came rushing back inside. He got my attention and said, "You aren't going to believe this." We quickly went back outside and right to his car. The odometer was showing three 1's. See for yourself:

We briefly had a moment, and then we had a long conversation. We discussed the fact that Wyatt is with us always and the fact that our son may be trying to show us or tell us something. We both got chills. Afterwards, we decided there had to be a meaning out there, someplace. So, since we are now in 2010, and no one uses encyclopedias anymore, the cart catalog is basically a thing of the past, and who actually has a library card anymore (doesn't everyone have Ipads now), I turned to the Internet to find answers to what the 1's could mean.

I found several sites that discussed the symbolism of 11:11, but most were just ridiculous, so ridiculous to the point that I couldn't even finish reading them. I came across Genesis 1:11. I read it, and found no correlation. Then, I came across a site that was rather interesting. I started to read the information aloud. Midway through, I was crying but still reading aloud. By the end of the article, I was speechless, one because I just found out that the 1's actually do have meaning, and two because there were things in the article (words that presented themselves) that I had encountered (here we go, aliens again, not really) earlier this week and last week. Then, I realized that in a way, Genesis 1:11 could actually correlate to this what this site was saying, just in a deeper sense.

So, is everyone okay?

What? Am I missing something? Oh, you want more? What was that? You want to know what the site said? Are you sure?

Okay.... here are a few excerpts from the site:

The Meaning of 11:11

If your attention has been drawn to clocks and watches at exactly 11:11, then read the following. Solara's and Uri's opinions: The endless reoccurrence of these hours 11:11, 11:01, 11:10, 10:01, 10:11, 10:10, 1:01 represents a positive connection and a gateway to the mysteries of the universe and beyond.

11:11 is a pre-encoded trigger placed into our cellular memory banks prior to our descent into matter which, when activated, signifies that our time of completion is near. This refers to the completion of duality. When the 11:11 appears to you, it is your wake-up call. A direct channel opens up between you and the Invisible. When this happens, it is time to reflect on whatever you are doing for a moment and Look Larger. A transfer is in position. You can enter the Greater Reality if you wish pray or meditate and seed your future and also, you can be seeded by the Invisible. You can ask for help in some specific area of your life or simply listen quietly and receive a revelation.

The 11.11 is the bridge our vitality and oneness. It is our pathway into the postive unknown and beyond.

The site is called Global Psychics Inc. and you can view the entire article by clicking here.

I still don't know if I fully believe it all, but come on, for four months this has been happening to me. If you stop and think about it, my son died inside me. His spirit was in me, as it left his body when he died. Maybe this all has something to do with the reason why I see all of the unique times and dates and today, all of the 1's. Maybe Part 1, was what was needed. It needed to be written so I could begin to receive the signs of the 1's and fully understand. I am not sure, but I am sure that this is not just Ironic. There is absolutely no irony in this at all.

I hope you are beginning to understand even better than you may have in Part 1. I do hope that you haven't begun to think I am crazy. Again, just remember, if crazy is something you are starting to think, please call a local doctor.

Okay passengers, I hope you enjoyed your ride. The vehicle is about to come to a complete stop. Please lift your lap bar and exit to the right of the vehicle. If you would like to ride again, you will need to get back in line and wait for the next available car, which will be back around sometime on Saturday. For now, enjoy your day, evening, night, early morning, whatever time it is where you are.

I Hope You Don't Think I am Crazy - Part 1

Okay, where to begin.... This is a post that I have been putting off because of a few reasons. One, some of you will think I am nuts. Two, some of you will no longer follow my blog because you will begin to believe I have lost my marbles, again nuts. And three, because once I tell the world, it will no longer happen, again making me nuts because I have lost proof. But I have to tell you my story of how I began to understand that some things are meant to be signs. I want to tell you because it is so fascinating and has taught me so much, and because all of you are friends or family so I would hope that you wouldn't classify me as nuts.

..... However, if you are going to classify me as nuts, please contact a local doctor so I can begin treatment. That is all I am asking. LOL

Okay, on with the story.

From the very beginning there were signs and it all started the day I found out I was FINALLY pregnant. If you have followed Wyatt's Whisper from the beginning, you know that it took Brian and I forever, 26 months to be exact, to become pregnant. I guess not forever, but it sure did feel like it. After IVF and transfer, I received the call I had been waiting for on 12/16/2009. This day was special and I knew I was getting the call this day, as it was scheduled. I knew it was going to be "good luck". My brother's birthday happens to be 12/16, and he was overseas fighting for our country. It just made sense to find out we were finally pregnant on his birthday. Previously, my brother's birthday always brought me bad luck. I had surgery around his birthday a few years prior and I had ruined his birthday with kidney stones years before. But this year, we had good luck. A sign I should have noticed.

Next important date, 12/24/2009. This was the first ultrasound, the first time we saw our baby and his little heart. I actually have written in my pregnancy journal this: "Today we saw your heart for the first time. It was amazing to watch it beat so perfectly." This was Christmas Eve, the same day we told Brian's family. His heart, I was amazed by his heart, the very organ that failed him. Another sign I should have noticed.

Fast forward to April. I was measuring perfect at my April doctor appointment. It wasn't until May when the doctor realized I nearly doubled my number. But it was right around 4/16/2010 when I popped. This is the same date as a dear friend's birthday. More to come on her in a separate blog. But again, another sign I should have noticed.

After having the cardiologist tell us that Wyatt had HLHS, it was determined that this surgery was going to take place on 6/4/2010. This was after having to hold everything off because I HAD to get an amnio. (Come to find out, it was held off because they really didn't think he was going to make it.) I remember having a conversation with my mom on 6/2 about the surgery. That is when I realized what I should have realize when the surgery date was communicated to us on 6/1. Exactly five years prior to the scheduled date of Wyatt's surgery, 6/4/05, my sister lost her boyfriend in a motorcycle accident. As soon as I realized this, I knew the surgery wasn't going to result in a good outcome. Finally, a sign that I noticed.

Upon waking on 6/4 from the surgery, I learned that my son had passed. I was holding my angel child still in my womb. The doctor said I could hold off delivering until Saturday, 6/4 was Friday. However, my body wanted to deliver. I began contractions on 6/4, but the doctor's were able to control them. Saturday came, and I told the doctor I couldn't handle having to push with a fresh incision across my stomach. He agreed to hold off until the evening and begin the induction. He requested that I not deliver on Sunday for the fact that it was my birthday. I remember him saying "Psychologically, it just wouldn't be good." Well, guess what? I delivered my angel on my birthday 6/6. A sign that was noticed!

As you can see, from the beginning of his life until the end, Wyatt had a fascination with dates, and he continues to have this fascination.

After Wyatt grew his wings and his service was held and Brian returned to work, I began to notice several signs. I realized that the fascination was no longer with dates but instead with time. I began to realize that I always seemed to look at the clock when it was exactly the same numbers. For example, 1:11, 3:33, 5:55, 11:11. It still happens. It has been four months now, and it still happens. Every time I see it, I get chills. I have even begun to photograph it and recently I have clued my coworkers in at work and mention something when I see it. It is something that occurs about 3-4 times a day. A sign? Well it is being noticed.

Just yesterday, I realized that the fascination of dates is presenting itself again. I needed to schedule an annual with my OBGYN, the same one that saw me with Wyatt. I had tried to schedule this before, but they didn't have their 2011 calendar ready. I called yesterday and explained to the receptionist that I wanted an appointment as quickly as possible, as this appointment was going to determine when I could start IVF again. She explained I needed to wait until after 1/10 for insurance purposes, but that there was an opening on 1/11. I took it. I then realized last night, that the date is going to be 1/11/11. Like I said, a sign. This time, I notice it.

I remember hearing the words in a song when I was a teen, the words were "Isn't it ironic, don't you think?" and the song was "Ironic" by Alanis Morrissett. One could say that what I have seen with the dates and times is just ironic, but to me it doesn't fit the definition of ironic.

So there you have it. Part one of "I hope you don't think I am crazy".

.... Just a quick reminder, if you feel that I am nuts, have lost my mind, or just plain crazy, remember contact a local doctor so I can begin treatment. LOL. Thanks!

"Bird's Eye View"

Can it be? Can it really be? I feel as though in the past two weeks some of the pain is starting to lift. I feel like I am starting to understand some things, not everything, because I will never understand why this had to happen to you, but I am starting to understand some things.

I remember reading blog posts from other BLMs while I was on maternity leave. I remember some of them talking about how the pain was subsiding just a bit. I remember thinking, that is never going to happen, I will be in pain forever. But that is not the case.

It still hurts that you are gone and that you are no longer physically here with me. But I have come to realize, through the help of others on FB and through blogs, that you are still with me and you will always be with me. I lost you and wish so bad that it never happened, but the time we had together I will cherish everyday. You will remain with me forever now, you will always be in my heart and on my mind.

Initially I thought, "This isn't fair! I never heard him cry, never got to see his eyes, and never held him while he was breathing." But I was wrong. I was blessed to carry you for 29 weeks and 1 day, feel you kick and move inside me, and help you grow strong to live longer than any of the doctors anticipated. With it being four months since you grew your wings, I can now understand that I was even blessed to lose you while you were still in the womb. You didn't have to fight with this world or come out into the cold. You were able to rest peacefully in the comfort of what you knew as your home.

As I said, I feel like the pain is starting to lift. It seems as though I can get through a day without tears. I am beginning to understand that life didn't stop on June 6, 2010. I am understanding that life was just starting. A life that looks differently to me and to you, but one that looks right to God. One that God had planned before you were created, before Daddy and I were married, and before I was born.

A few months back, I remember having a conversation with a wise person. I was upset about losing you and explained I couldn't make sense of it. This wise person said, "I understand that you feel your life is very unorganized right now and that your life is just not what you planned. But remember when you look at things from a from a bird's eye view, everything appears very straight and organized. He sees your life that way right now, very straight and organized."

I have held on to that conversation for the past few months. I find myself coming back to it almost everyday. That very wise person really knew what she was talking about. For everything there is a reason, even for the loss of my son. Why, I don't know. It isn't meant for me to know right now. But, from a bird's eye view, the reason could be just around the corner, again not for me to know.

My Life without My Son

Brian and I paid a visit to the Hershey store in Chicago on Friday and it was great. We had so much fun in this little store. We were like two kids in a candy shoppe, wait, we were in a candy shoppe. LOL

Upon entering the store, we were amazed at the size of each piece of chocolate. There was a chocolate making center in the middle of the store, of which, I would have loved to try out. (The only reason I didn't was because I didn't want the employees to think that something was wrong with me. I am an adult not a child.) At the front of the store, there was a Hershey Kiss displayed and the little "flag" was spinning around the top. It was so awesome.

We eventually ventured our way to the back of the store and we quickly became aware of the fact that we could purchase coffee and Hershey baked goodies. It was freezing outside, so we did just that. We ordered two cocoa coffees and a Hershey chocolate cupcake and a Reese's cookie. We needed to wait for the coffee to brew, so we continued to "play" in the store. We were having so much fun pretending to eat the chocolate and looking at the larger than life candy bars.

Then reality struck me....... It was this sharp gut wrenching blow to the gut. I happened to see a Hershey's onesie and bib. I don't honestly know what was wrong with me, because I quickly opened my mouth to say "Hey Hon, lets get this for Wyatt!".

Um, hello, reality check, Wyatt isn't here. He is never going to be here. What the heck is wrong with you. Do you honestly think this is all a dream? Wyatt will never wear a onesie or a bib. Get with it already.

That is what was going through my mind in a matter of a few seconds, when I caught myself, before I could say something that would ruin the trip for both of us. I was able to stop myself, walk away from the rack, hold back the tears, and move on. It was hard and I still think about the fact that I almost "slipped".

To others in the store, when I was photographing the onesie and the bib, they probably had no idea. They may have honestly thought I had lost it. But I had to photograph them. For some reason, these two items were screaming for me to purchase them for my Wyatt.

I have seen baby clothes and such since we lost Wyatt and I have never felt the urge to want to buy them for Wyatt. I have always remembered that Wyatt isn't with us. But I didn't remember in the Hershey store. It was like he was just away for the day, but to return tomorrow. Was it because I was acting young again and having "fun"? Was it because I was lost in the moment? Or was it because time is starting to heal and the pain isn't so much, so the constant reminder isn't always there?

I will never forget Wyatt or the pain or hurt I feel over losing him. I will never be the same as I was before I lost him. And I will never look at a child, family, mother, or father the same way. But I will continue to have "fun" which may cause more of the slipage moments.

This is okay with me, for this is my life. It is my life without my son. After understanding this, we returned to the back of the store and paid for our baked goodies. We grabbed a table and enjoyed our Hershey treats.

Remember

Tomorrow is October 15, just a normal day for most, it was for me until this year. I was ignorant to the number of things that could go wrong during a pregnancy. It took us so long to become pregnant, that when it happened, I figured the road to getting there was the worst part. I was so very wrong.

For my entire pregnancy, I was so concerned about cleft palate, I don't know why, but I was so focused on making sure that the baby didn't have it. I remember at the 20 week ultrasound, I asked the tech if she could look to see if the baby had a full palate. She explained "the baby" (we didn't what to find out the gender) had a perfect palate. Boy, if I could only go back to that ultrasound. I wouldn't care about the palate. Instead, I would have asked about the heart and the fluid.

Never did I think that I would loss my child. They say, "Once you get past the first trimester you are good." Well, they are WRONG. I got to 28 weeks, the third trimester! And, I wasn't good, the baby wasn't good, and life changed forever!

The day I lost my son, was the day that I realized that nothing is permanent, nothing! I began to quickly realized that there are things that can happen that are just unexplained. My entire pregnancy I was so focused on a cleft palate, something that doesn't cause many complications and something that can be fixed with surgery. Never did I consider the fact that my child could have something so wrong with him that even the best doctors in the United States could not fix what was wrong. I never gave thought that the very first organ that developed in my son's body could actually be the very cause for his death.

As I was ignorate to the many things that could go wrong with a pregnancy, I was also ignorate to a day that should be recognized more than it is currently being recognized. For many, tomorrow is just another day. For me, tomorrow, October 15, is a day to REMEMBER! For in my life, October 15 is now and will always be known as National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. Please make October 15 important to you from now on also.

Please remember!

Remember my son, my Wyatt James!

A Mask

I am having one of those confused days today. BLMs, I am sure you can relate. I don't know whether to wear the happy mask today or the sad mask. I feel like getting dress in the morning requires one additional step, putting on a mask.


Over the past four months, I have come to realize that life as I used to know it is over. It is gone. No more are the days when the worst thing in my life was the fact that I was over tasked at work, or that I had to get gas on the way home, or that I was locked out of my own house, or that another bill came that was to be covered by insurance. Instead, I face a new reality. The reality of living my life without my son, when I did everything right in my pregnancy. The reality of not knowing if I will become pregnant on my own, as it had never happened before. The reality of knowing that we have hit the lifetime maximum for IVF coverage and I only ever had one egg, one chance, and it didn't work.

Today, like many others, I don't know whether to wear the happy mask or the sad one. I struggle with this everyday. I know that Wyatt would choose the happy one. But happy isn't all that easy. There are days when I look at his photos and think to myself, "Really? Are you really serious? He is gone forever, and never coming back, but why???" Then there are other days when I think, "Thank God. I am so grateful that my child didn't have to suffer for long. He didn't have to come out and face this cruel world with an issue that would set him back from the "normal". He is at peace now."

I feel as though some people may think that since I have hit the four month mark, that things should be easier. That things shouldn't upset me as much. That life should be starting to get back to "normal". But um, hello, that is not the case. My life will never be back to "normal". Never.

I will always have this empty void, this hole in my heart. This empty place where so many dreams and memories were suppose to exist. A place that is now vactant, desolate, and abandoned.

A place that regardless of how much time may passes, it will always require something to hide the pain and the emptiness, something only a mask can cover.

STILL

I wish life wasn't like this.

I wish he was physically here in my arms, but he isn't. I wish I could kiss him once more, but I can't. I wish I could have seen his smile and the color of his eyes, but I didn't. I wish I could have watched him grow, but I couldn't. I wish I could hear him laugh and listen to him breathe, but I won't.

It's been four months, though so short, it was so long, yet so still at the same time. To me, four months ago seems like just yesterday. I feel like I was just being told by the doctor that it is time to start pushing. I feel as though this nightmare may end just around the corner, almost like it never happened. Is that even possible?

Is it possible to have lived for four months but yet look back on them and feel like they never even occurred? Is it possible to have carried my child for 7 months (29 weeks and 1 day to be exact), and feel as though it was all a dream which ended in a nightmare. Is it possible to feel like the nightmare is going to end in just a few days, like I am going to finally wake up and life will be what it was before May 26 (the day we found out everything was wrong)?

No! No, that isn't possible, but in my world that is how I feel. I feel like every day I am living to get to that ultimate goal of finally waking up and crawling out of this dark and horrible nightmare. I feel like I am getting one day closer to the day I will have my son and we will have that "perfect" family. The day that he will be at home with us and we will be raising him and teaching him and watching him grow.

But BAM! Reality strikes, just like lightening, right into the core of me. It takes the warm fuzzy feeling and slams it against the coldest harest rock possible. In return, I feel this bottomless pit in my heart, yes I actually feel it. I get butterflies in my stomach, and I realize that my life really is that horrible nightmare. The one that has the worst ending possible. The one where the baby dies.

The baby. The one that we worked so damn hard to create. The one that we were so patience in waiting for. The child who was loved so much before he even existed. That baby. That is the one that dies. Not the one whose mother doesn't want it, or the one whose mother did drugs during the pregnancy. Not the baby who was unplanned or the one whose parents decide to leave the child in the dumpster. No, not those babies, but our baby has to be the one who dies.

The Center for Disease Control estimates that each year about 975 babies in the United States are born with hypoplastic left heart syndrome (HLHS). In other words, each year about 2 out of every 10,000 babies born will be born with HLHS. Are you serious?! Why couldn't we have won the lottery? The odds are about the same, on the scratch offs at least. Instead, we have to win in the odds of HLHS and be the ones to lose our baby. Are you freakin serious?!

Today marks four months since we became part of the odds. And though the months have gone by so fast, they are still so very slow. And in the same breath, I think, maybe the months are just STILL, not slow nor fast, just STILL. For the definition of still per Webster's Dictionary is "without motion".

In two words, that best describes the past four months of my life!

Past the Surface

Recently, I feel as though I have been blogging about each of the daily photo reminders, but that wasn't my purpose. The purpose of the photo reminders was to start a 365 project but have it focus solely on reminders of Wyatt. I was still going to blog about feelings and such but the photos were going to remain as part of the 365 project, aka "Wyatt's Life in Photos - A Collection of Reminders". But that hasn't been the case, and it will not be again today.

Some of the recent reminders or signs from Wyatt have just been so breath taking that I have to blog about them. If I only allowed a few sentences in the 365 project, it wouldn't do the reminder or sign any justice.

As I said, today is no different. When I awoke today, I decided that since I didn't have any face to face meetings at work, that I would work from home. Just one of the small perks to my job. So, I logged in just before 8a and began working. Just after 12p, I decided I was going to actually take a lunch. Something I usually never do at work. I needed to walk mail to the mailbox and wash some dishes. As I was returning from the mailbox something caught my eye. I looked down toward the blacktop and sitting on top of the folded welcome mat was a dragonfly. It was actually in the small location as where I found the blue winged butterfly in August.

I had never seen a dragonfly this close before. At first I thought, "Wow, that is the ugliest thing I have ever seen!" I ran inside and grabbed my camera, which was just on the table, since it is out all the time now with the 365 project taking place. I figured, for sure the creature would be gone by the time I made it back outside. But it wasn't. It was still there. I was able to capture four pictures of the dragonfly. Then, it even allowed me to touch its wings. A few hours later, I checked on the dragonfly, and to my surprise, it was still there. Still in the same spot. I went back out, played with its wings again and returned back to the table to work. Then about an hour later, I went back to check on it and it was gone.

I will be honest. I had to look "photos of dragonflies" up on the Internet to be sure that was really what I had photographed. When I realized it was, I immediately posted a picture of the dragonfly on FB. It reminded me of another BLM and her daughter and I had to let her know what I had seen. After posting the picture, I realized that the dragonfly was ugly after all. It was actually extermely delicate and something that should be treasured.

A few hours after I posted the photo to FB, I received this message:

"Loooook closely, Wyatt's name is in the wings... as soon as I saw the picture you posted, I saw a w on him, then another W, then I started playing on Paint.... So here ya go I didn't want it obvious..just subtle"

It was followed by a photo which showed how Wyatt's name was hidden in the wings of the dragonfly. Now, you will see on the photo, that for each letter in Wyatt's name, the letter is drawn over with black. That was done by the sender. But if you compare it to the orignal, the lines on the wings are there, just not as dark. All the sender did, was darken the lines. See for yourself:

Here, I was so concerned about receiving signs from Wyatt, that I never looked past the surface, to the real meaning of why the sign presented itself to me in the first place.

A Ride on Mommy's Shoulder

Just two days ago, I said to Brian, "He used to leave me feathers as signs, but not any more."

This morning after getting out of bed, I decided it would be a good time to sit with the laptop and update yesterday's photo reminder of Wyatt. After completing this, I decided to play a bit on the computer, searching for tours for our trip to Chicago. All the while, I was moving around, walking from the living room to the kitchen, then back to the living room.

It would have made perfect sense for it to fall off, but it didn't. Nope, after more than two hours of being awake, I happened to look in the mirror and I noticed it. A small, white feather. It was on the right shoulder of my shirt. And it wasn't just laying there, it was attached.


I do have a feather pillow, so it makes sense as to why I picked up the feather, but why after two hours of walking through the house and doing daily tasks was the feather still attached? Funny how the little feather appeared, when just two days ago I had made the comment about not receiving feathers any longer.

It was like the feather was taking a ride on my shoulder, just close enough to make me understand that he is always with me, regardless of the signs!