Capture Your Grief--Day 11--Emotional Triggers

For me, triggers are something that are ever-changing. In the first days and weeks after we lost Luke, I couldn't bear to go out. There was one time I remember specifically when Jeff and I were out having breakfast together. And there was a Mom with her new baby--probably about the same age he would have been. In the same stroller and car seat that we had...living in the closet. 

I had a small meltdown. Eating breakfast. 

There was going into Target and walking by the baby aisle that first time. 

And the numerous pregnancy and birth announcements that always seemed like a slap in the face...

There's always something. And the emotions are always changing. I don't feel the same as I did in those early days. And obviously, now I'm the one walkjng around pregnant, causing other baby-loss Moms meltdowns. If only they knew. 

Lately, I feel like it's the little boys that I see around who are the same age Luke would be now. The sting of imagining what he would be like today will always be there. It will always haunt me. I don't see how they will ever get easier to look at. 

But thank goodness these emotions are always changing. Because if everything stayed the way it was, I have no idea how I'd get through this. 

Capture Your Grief--Day 9--Music

This one is obvious...I've posted it here before.

To say I live for lyrics is an understatement.  I have for pretty much my entire life.  And when we lost Luke, I found myself finding different meanings in songs I'd listened to a million times.  And then I came across this song.  I've been a Ryan Adams fan for years, but the lyrics to this song never hit me the way they had after that day.  And then I learned that sadly enough, Ryan wrote this song for a dear friend whose baby was stillborn.  Her name was Elizabeth. 

He captured my feelings on loss so perfectly, it's unbelievable.  And now I kind of can't listen to it without bawling.  Just the opening piano part gets me.  But the yearning in his voice...and the frailty.  Exactly.

Elizabeth, You Were Born to Play That Part--Ryan Adams

For you I'd do anything
Tear myself in two
Just to hear you breathe

Calculate the changes that in time
Turn to nothing and then multiply
Yourself by my pain

Over you is where I stand
I wish I knew why
But I don't understand

I'm waiting on someone that just won't show
And every night it seems like there's no tomorrow
Not that you will ever know

Wherever you are, I hope you're happy now
I'm caught in a dream and I can't get out
I'm caught in a dream
I'm caught in an endless dream

Wherever you are, I hope you're happy now
I'm caught in a dream and I can't get out
I'm caught in an endless dream
And I'm not strong enough to let you go

And I have tried everything
But that
Elizabeth

Capture Your Grief--Day 4--Legacy

I can't say that I've started an organization or anything in Luke's name since he passed (though we have raised a substantial sum of money for the OC Walk to Remember in his name), but what I can say is this:  He taught me, and many of those around me--that life is short.  That tomorrow is never a given.  I've always been a person that lived very much in the present, but this never became more clear that day we lost him.  I never ever once believed that someone--let alone ME--could make it through 39 weeks of pregnancy and NOT go home with their baby.  Those things don't happen anymore, I thought.  I was wrong.

I'm not sure what made us wait so long to start a family, but that was one of the things that was hard to face when we lost him.  First and foremost, none of us are given tomorrow.  Now is all we have.  To start a family.  To kiss your children goodnight.  To be happy.  Don't wait.

That's his legacy. 

Capture Your Grief--Day 3--Myth

There are a lot of myths I've encountered on this path, but probably the most obvious one is the 5 Stages of Grief. I think this path SOUNDS likes a great idea, but the reality is, you're never done grieving something like this. A loss of this magnitude. There are tons of days anger and depression live together. And acceptance...can be felt--I know I'm at that stage. But I think I will always have parts of me that are angry and depressed about what happened to Luke. There is no path with an end. Nothing is linear and clean. It's hard. And messy.  And it always will be.

Capture Your Grief--Day 2--Identity

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month, and every year, the wonderful Carly Marie puts out a list of prompts for the month--To capture your grief. 

I missed the sunrise yesterday, so I'm starting today...

The hand and footprints that the hospital took that day in the hospital mean everything to me. They're something...that he touched.  The last...and probably only thing besides his hat that have will have his identity on them forever.  

I feel like they give him his existence.  Full on hands and feet.  They were once here.  And now they're gone.