Sunday, May 27, 2012

Right where I am 10 months and 2 weeks later.

Angie from over at has for the second year in a row started a beautiful project for all of us to join in on. A chance to talk about where our grief is at this very moment. Last year I was not part of this amazing group of people, oblivious to this corner of the world. Since the loss of our sweet Braedon, this place has been my lifeline. My pain is echoed and understood in the words of so many and I wish I could thank them all for continuing to document their journeys on this path of pain, sorrow and new beginnings.

I wish I knew how to say the words that so many of you deserve. The other Moms and Dads who write so beautifully of their heartbreak and all about grief and even finding new joy.

So bitter so sweet the words that fall across the screen. Beautiful and painful and all together perfect. Words that have carried me across the current of grief over the past 10 months. My heart has ached and I have shed tears for so many babies and cheered on those who have written words of their new little ones and new happiness found.

The past couple of months I have had a hard time, lurking and needing this place and the counseling that it gives. So strange to think that grief counseling counseling can be found in the blogs of others. But it is there and it is treasured by myself and so many others. Those who have gone before me and those who come after with hearts newly broken. I don't comment lately my typed words often feel flat compared to what my mind wants to express, but I read and I care so much for this group of people who I have never met in real life.

We may not find each other in a crowd but I believe if I met any of you for even just a moment, I would wrap my arms around around you and be so happy to call you friend.

On June 13th, just 11 months to the day that Braedon left us, we are scheduled to deliver our newest son. To say that having him on this day was an easy choice would be a lie. We were supposed to deliver on the 14th but our doctor failed to tell us of the scheduling change. We would have had to wait another week if we choose to move the date. Taking us past the 38 mark and into territory I do not wish to visit.

It seems only fitting to say that right where I am today is not where I expected to be at 10 months and 2 weeks exactly. There are moments throughout the day where I rub my belly and I find peace and happiness. We have done all we can to start to embrace the possibility of this new life.

Coming Soon!

But it is the missing life that holds my heart and brings tears to my eyes with just the mere thought. I think of him constantly, missing and wishing. I don't talk of him with others but he is there with me. I thought by now I would feel more comfortable in my grief, yet it still fits me like shoes 2 sizes too small. I can not bring him into the conversation as I so often wish. He is mine and I do not share well. I don't want them to see my pain for it is for me and me alone. In these past months the pain has not lessened just become more bearable and easier to carry.
So missed. 

I forget to dust his shelf. Today I ran my hand across it and picked up dust particles with my fingertips. I love him no less but I find myself not thinking of these things. He is in a box. It is not him but it is all I have of him. I resent this box of ashes. I love this box ashes. I open the lid sometimes and touch the package of grains. His small bits and pieces. Seems so strange to me but even today I have to touch. But I no longer have to dwell. I know he is with me and not on a shelf. I carry him in my heart. He is the blood pumping through my veins, the words whispered in my ears. I feel him when the wind touches my skin. I ache to hold him in my arms but I take peace in knowing that he is still a part of me. For as mothers we never really let them go once they leave our bodies.

I keep his picture on my phone. I find myself looking for reasons to glance at it throughout the day. To see him, to constantly remember, to never forget each detail of his little nose, his little lips. Everything about him I want to hold on to.

Right where I am at this moment is hopeful, sad, happy and so many other emotions. I miss him, I wish he was here with me starting to pull up and perhaps learning to walk. When I came home from the hospital empty handed I thought my world had ended. I was stuck in a deep dark pit of despair and could not see a way out. Now I can see the joy that life still has to offer. There is still beauty out there. There is still happiness to be found. Life moves forward and I will go with it but he will go with me.


  1. This is beautiful. Braedon is absolutely beautiful. And welcoming your baby so soon. Pregnancy after loss is so hard, so just know I am holding you in my heart. Thinking of you, remembering Braedon with you. Thank you for sharing. xo

  2. Hope's picture is on my phone as well. Four years and a few new phones later, the picture remains. I have lots of pics of my two new living kids who followed, but I need to keep Hope in some little corners of my life.
    I often wondered if I could spot out the other loss mamas in a crowd. Like you though I know when I do come across them though, there is that knowing and solidarity.
    Thinking of you at this incredibly difficult time and remembering Braedon.

  3. I keep Jack's pic on the front of my cell too. I am so glad to see a pic of Braedon, he was a cute little guy. I also cannot believe you are delivering in June, I had no idea you were that far along. For some reason in my head I thought you still had 2 or 3 months. I'll be thinking of all of you. xo

  4. Your dear Braedon, such a beautiful boy. Such perfect little features.

    My mind just boggles, to think of all that missing and grief and all the anticipation and possibility. And so much love, for your two dear boys. Crammed into such a short time frame.

    I also have a bit of a loving/resentful relationship with my daughter's ashes. You've described why so perfectly. Because they are not her but it sometimes feel that they are all that I have left. But you're right, that's not true. She is still a part of me, I don't have to reach for her or dust a shelf. She's just here.

    Hoping that these last few weeks pass peacefully and wishing you much joy. Always remembering Braedon xo

  5. Oh the ashes...dang I can't look at them like you do. I hate that I have them and am so certain they would be the first thing I grabed after my living family if my house was on fire.

    Braedon is perfect. It is so frustrating to me that babies who are perfect should not be living. I know this time is filled with love and anticipation, sadness and missing.

  6. Beautiful baby boy; I love his name. Pregnancy after loss is so difficult. And to have the dates so close must be hard. You write beautifully of your Braedon and what he means to you. Thank you for sharing where you are.

  7. Oh, that is so much to cope with in less than one year. My word. I think you write our sweet and bitter words beautifully and I will hope and hope you are filled with joy in 2 weeks time. Lots of love to you.

  8. This is such a beautiful post..

    "Life moves forward and I will go with it but he will go with me."
    ~ that is exactly what I needed to hear today (although I didn't know that until I read it). Thank you.

    I haven't even collected my son's ashes yet. I can't decide what to do with them (him?), whether to keep them, scatter them, bury them.. I'm so unprepared for all this.

    Thinking of you and your beautiful Braedon.

  9. "I thought by now I would feel more comfortable in my grief, yet it still fits me like shoes 2 sizes too small." - even with my rainbow in my arms I still feel this way. Much like an outcast and while I mention my angels sometimes I often get sick of how others give me a look of pity - but more because they are sorry they asked the question that got me to be so "brutally" honest. Nonetheless, each day passes and like you said life moves forward but my babies go with me. Thank you for sharing your beautiful words... Thinking of you and Braedon and your rainbow soon to be in your arms...<3

  10. Life moves forward and I will go with it but he will go with me . . . I love this, and it's true, though it doesn't always feel that way, though sometimes it feels that we leave our missing babies behind, but they are always with us in some way.
    Sending strength and peace and hope—pregnancy after loss is so emotionally difficult, especially when you are so close

  11. Oh my word - your son, your Braedon is so very, very beautiful. I paused at his picture to just gaze on his lovely face.

    I don't have ashes - I have a grave but I feel the same as you. I love it because of its connection to her, I hate what it represents.

    I wish you much joy in the coming fortnight as you travel forwards with both your sons.

  12. Your Braedon is such a beautiful little boy. I am so sorry he is not still in your arms.

    What you write about not sharing well resonated with me. I hug my memories close, and have found that I only share Teddy's story with a few special, trusted people. Sometimes that feels like exactly the right thing to do, and sometimes I wish I were better at including him in conversations.

    So much love to you and hope for you and the new little one who is coming soon.

  13. Thank you for sharing.


  14. "Life moves forward and I will go with it but he will go with me." Yes, I feel exactly this way too. I connected with this post so much. Yesterday marked 10 months since Liam has been gone. His photo is my screen saver on my phone. I randomly turn my phone on just to look at him throughout the day.

    I think of you often Paula. I'm sending you so much love and hope in these coming weeks, and remembering your beautiful Braedon always. xx

  15. They will always be with us - remembering your Braedon xx