Take, take, take.

Sometimes, I feel like all I do is take from this community. Such an embracing community. One that I never wanted to be a part of. Yet, I have been welcomed with open arms, supported, not judged. I have received so much.

In turn, I'm trying to "up my giving ante" by sharing about the "25 days of Giveaways" and Fran's beautiful giveaway(s) at Small Bird Studios.

If you're a BLM, please don't hesitate to participate. Although I can't speak for the Givers, I'm pretty sure that they love to do it. To do something in honor of their child(ren).

Know that participating is not taking.

It's Your contribution to Giving.

As Good as It Gets

I was going to write this as a comment on Angie's blog "Still Life with Circles" http://stilllifewithcircles.blogspot.com/2011/11/question-grieving-openly-around.html but then I thought that I wouldn't want to bore her readers with my confused ramblings. At least you guys choose to read my crap blog.

I don't know what I'm feeling. I just know that I am feeling. Hopefully this will help, here I go.

A while back, my mother asked me if I was going to cry and/or show emotion (about the loss of Alexander) in front of my other kids. I apparently gave the wrong answer (I said "Yes") because she told me that wouldn't be good for them. I don't know how I responded but I set her straight and she agreed that my approach (whatever it was) was okay with her. Good, great, glad that she agrees. I know that she just said that to shut me up.

And then there's the family friends that asked me "how I'm really doing" and I said "okay but that I miss Alexander dearly". His response, "well, you have other kids so you should be happy". I told him that one doesn't make up for the other. He agreed and changed the topic. Again, just to shut me up.

And then, I get all upset thinking that maybe he's right. Maybe I should be happy and that I don't appreciate my other kids enough. Even though I know that I do. And then I remember what my therapist said that you can be happy and sad at the same time.

Today I was at an IMMEDIATE family's house and was asked a question about ALL my kids. When I mentioned Alexander (he was pertinent to the question) the response was "Oh, ya". They fucking forgot about him. It should be noted that they've NEVER acknowledged his existence so why would I think so now!?

Tonight, while I'm writing this post, I'm complaining sharing these stories with my husband so he says, "so don't talk about him". Why should I have to change what I'm feeling to make others feel better? If they feel bad, imagine how I feel.

You can now add him to my list of people that I'm pissed off at. A list of people that I feel should know better. Or at least when they fuck up, do a better job of convincing me that they really DO give a crap.

I just want to tell everyone (who doesn't "get it") to fuck off. I'm sick of it.

People consistently don't respond the way that I want.
I can't educate the world.
Not talking about Alexander is hard.
Getting their ignorant responses hurts just as much.
Damned if I Do, Damned if I Don't.

I think that part of the problem is that I don't have anyone in real life to talk to Alexander about. Even if I did, I'm not sure what I'd say. Maybe I need to talk to Alexander about all of it. Maybe I need to switch things up.

Or maybe the problem is that I'm not committed either way. To some people I include him in my child count, to others I don't. To some I tell them that I don't appreciate what they said (or whatever), to others, I let their ignorant comments fly.

Maybe it just doesn't matter. I mean no matter what they say or think, he's not coming back. But I'm here. I need to survive. I need to go on.

Maybe this is as good as it gets.

P.S. I should have titled this post "Fuckity-fuck-fuck" because I just realized that I swore a ton (and removed a ton more "fucks") but then I'd have to tell you about how my mother someone thinks that I swear too much and how that isn't good for my kids. My response. Fuck off.

P.P.S. In case you're wondering, yes, I feel better getting all those "fucks" off my chest.

P.P.P.S. If my mother said person thinks that having a mother (that would be me) that swears is my kids biggest problem, I got a little news flash for her, THEIR BROTHER IS DEAD.

That Day Has Come

Today was an emotional day. Not in a “crying my eyes out” way but in an “I feel really good about Alexander’s contribution to the world” way.

Since the second moment after Alexander died (the first moment was reserved for my desire to have another child), I wanted to do something big in his memory. I wanted to change the world, make it a better place, big time.

Since his death, I’ve felt kind of bad about not really doing anything (we’ve given a lot but it’s not the same). However, I know myself and I know Alexander and I knew that our day would come.

Well, today was that day.

A while back, I had my mother buy two presents “for Alexander”. She took her task very seriously. After much thought and reflection, she came home with two special gifts. Toys that Alexander would have loved.

I want to teach my kids about many things in life; Acceptance, Charity and Empathy, to name a few. So, today, we gave Alexander’s toys to kids at the Children's Hospital. The place where he lost his life.

People suggested that we should wait until Christmas but;

Christmas (a.k.a. December) doesn’t mean something to everyone.

Sickness doesn’t recognize holidays. Kids get sick all.year.long.

There are sick kids right now that can’t wait.

So, we gave in November.

I kept it together. Not because I had to or even wanted to but because I did. I want this time to be a happy memory.

So many of my thoughts involve sadness or anger. I’m still kind of pissed off (at him) that he didn’t survive. Doing something special for some other child that I can’t do for Alexander makes me feel really good. Actually, REALLY GOOD!!!

I’m glad that it turned out so well and look forward to giving again next year, or sooner.

I am so sad.

I can hardly see through the tears.
I've been dreading this day forever.
I feel like I've lost Alexander (again).
Yet, it's not my child.
She is someone elses.
Her mother must now live forever without her daughter.
I am so sad.

They Say

They say that if you've met one person with autism, you've met one person with autism.

I think that the same goes for BLM's.

I remember the months following Alexander's death. I spent all my waking hours searching for another person that had experienced exactly what I had.

Someone who had a boy at x gestation with x cause of death with, the list goes on. Ideally, his name would have also been Alexander.

To this day, I'm still searching. Except that I'm not.

I've found what I was searching for all along, others that know what it's like to share my future.

Life without our children.

Today

I've known today was coming... for several weeks.
I know every year.
It's like there's an alarm clock in my soul that says "this is when it all began... to go wrong".

Yesterday, I thought about today and lost my breath.
Kind of like in the beginning.
Even writing this my chest still feels heavy.

Today has (almost) come and gone. I survived. Too bad he* didn't.
The build-up is worse than the event.
My soul will breathe deeply for another year.


*(Added after the fact.) I just realized that I often refer to Alexander as "he" or "my son". I don't often call him by name. Maybe it's because I think that it's easier on others if I don't mention his name and/or it's easier for me to slip in a mention of him without others noticing (that he's the dead one). Regardless, it's yet another thing that makes me feel bad like a bad mother (to him).

Hidden Opportunity?

How come it seems like all BLM's (every single one of you) live 5,000 miles from me.

No one lives close enough to make the trek for a cup of coffee... once a month... ever. I mean, that can't really be true so where is everyone? I've frequented local mom sites and have yet to find a SINGLE post about wanting to connect with others that have lost. Wanting to find someone for support for the long-term (read: forever).

I know that there are large scale support groups out there, but I'm looking for one or two gals to hang out with.

I wonder if non-BLM's feel like we'd just sit around and cry over pictures of our dead babies. Maybe we would sometimes but just once, I'd like to sit in a room with someone else and not have to think about what I said before I said it. To just know that they really, truly get it.

Besides, it feels really isolating. Like I'm the only one in the entire world with a dead baby.

I guess this could be a hidden opportunity?

Well, I guess this is something

I have written countless posts (in my head), yet, none of them have been published.
I have tons to say but when it's time to write, nothing comes.
I'm tired.
Maybe it's all part of my plan.

Have you Heard About Anaya?

If not, check out all that her family is doing to make the world a different place at Healing Anaya.

If you have heard of her, can you help?

FYI, I have been in contact with her mother, Camara (over the past year) and friends of mine know of her (when she used to live in Nelson, B.C.).

"If I had a million dollars..."

I Parent Three Children.

Do they understand that I care for and parent three children?

Not as in I'm crazy and think that my child is still alive but, I don't think that they understand that a part of my day, each and every day is spent caring for Alexander.

No, I don't change his diaper or feed him but I still worry about him. Sure, many things related to him can wait as they aren't as pressing as a current bumped knee but they're still (my) needs (for him). I still make decisions based on how it will affect his legacy? Even though he isn't here, it doesn't mean that his existence doesn't impact us and require our attention.

I know that you get it, but do they?

I Wonder...

what the world would be like if every couple had lost a child, had a child that was ill or one that had challenges.

I wonder.

Part One and Part Two

Lots of times, before people post, they let their readers know that "sensitive" or "[insert topic]" type of information will be forthcoming.

I don't give those warnings. I never really thought about it. Like I mentioned in one of my first posts, I've already been kicked out of all the "Clubs" so why worry now?

In light of my recent feelings about surprise pregnancy announcements (not all of them, just some) and seeing that others too have these feelings (and have been posting about them lately), it got me to thinking.

Should I warn my readers that this post will include the mention of my other kids? I mean, this is a blog about Alexander. I don't know who all my readers are (except those that comment) but I'm assuming that the large majority are BLM's. I'm assuming that they come here to read about my feelings regarding the loss of my son, not the living. I know that some of them don't have living children and yearn for them with every fibre in their body and soul.

Am I being insensitive?

While this is a space to talk about my true feelings regarding Alexander, it's also a place where I can share what I'm really thinking (although I do still hold back a bit) and not worry about the rath of family and friends.

Having said that, consider this your one and only warning. I will be talking about my kids in this post and may talk about them in the future.

If your feelings are hurt by this, I am truly sorry. I wish whatever saddens you wasn't so. I totally understand if you choose not to read me anymore.

Maybe I've made a bigger deal out of this than is necessary. Note to self: Re-read post about "Wise Woman". Moving on.

One of my family members prefers one of my living children over the other. It's obvious to everyone but them.

I'm not sure whether I'm happy or sad that Alexander is their second favorite. I mean, he doesn't know any different but my other child does. While I reap the benefits of this favoritism (hearing his name), my other child suffers (a bit of a dramatization on the use of this word but you get my drift).

This person should know better.

I found myself trying to compensate for the lack of and negative attention on the "neglected child" by "equalling out" the attention myself. However, an unequal amount of my time and energy was focussed on trying to compensate for the family member and not on what my children needed from me, individually. I stopped trying to make up for the family members shortcomings.

I've openly told this person about how I perceive their actions. They've told me "I'm on crack" (pretty much). My husband has offered to say something. It won't change anything. I can't make this person act and be what I want them to be. Thankfully, they are not involved with the kids on a regular basis.

Life isn't fair.

Is this really my life?

Remember that "Wise Woman" I was talking about. I don't know how she does it.

So, I was just outside taking the dogs for their nightly jaunt (not normally my job but the hubby is away) and I got to thinking. The last time that I was out with the dogs at night was in November, the year Alexander was born. In fact, the very night that his water broke. One million weeks too early.

I know that I shouldn't be thinking these things (I'm about to get to what
"these things are"), let alone writing about them but you guys are my mirror, my sounding board. That which allows me to truly hear what I'm actually thinking. By now, I'm sure that you know what I'm thinking.

Maybe I wasn't dressed warmly enough (there was a real chill).
It was really late (or is that early), they could have waited until the morning.
I should have left the walking to the neighbour (my hubby was once again away).
I'd been out shopping that week (preparing the nursery), maybe I pushed too far.

Does the guilt and questioning ever go Away? Subside? I seem to always come up with new shit.

It feels like it's been intensifing itself lately. Is that "common" for being almost two years out?

Is this really my life?

A Wise Woman

once told me that it was better to remain silent than spew verbal diarrhea for the sake of having something to say. Wise Woman.

Having said that, I'm having a hard time with pregnancy announcements. Fucking infertility. Even after having kids it just never goes away. I wish that I was happier for others than I was sad for myself (does that make sense?). I don't think that my sadness is associated with the loss of Alexander (but what do I know). I realize that even if I were to have 20 children, I could never replace him.

I just wanted to let you know that I'm here, reading, thinking and feeling.

Regret?

If they died tomorrow,
Would I regret?

Wish that I'd been less "absent",
More present?

Feel like I didn't take enough pictures,
Can you ever take enough?

Tell them everything I needed to,
Is that even possible?

Remember the last time I saw them breathe,
Should I even sleep at night?

Do everything I can to keep them alive,
Was I negligent?

If they died tomorrow,
Would I regret?

Sucks but True

I think that it goes without saying (but I'll say it anyways, smile), I'm a "changed" person since the loss of Alexander.

Many times, I want to write "better" but I wonder if that's too conceited. Even if it's not conceited, is it even true? Am I really a "better" person?

I know that my life (now) is much sadder than it was before he died but I think that my kids life is better. That I'm a "better" (read: more relaxed, less anxious) mother. That I try to remember that cookies for dinner isn't the end of the world. That control over all of the aspects of one's life does not keep you alive. Trust me, I tried.

Speaking of control, before I met my husband, in my naivety, I truly believed that if I took good care of myself (worked out, ate right, didn't drink, unfortunately, I didn't think about the mental aspect...) that I would live forever. Seriously.

You can imagine my surprise when he told me the truth (pretty near grounds for not accepting his marriage proposal, no, they didn't happen in the same night, smile). Just to get a couple of things straight, I am educated and was not raised by wolves.

When Alexander was sick, I employed the same techniques as when we almost ran out of gas in "bum fuck nowhere Mexico". I wished him well. I prayed him healed. I promised all the things that I would do if he just lived. I thought about it so much and so hard that I really thought that it would happen. No such luck.

While I have lost most of my naivety, I have not forgotten about my promises. I can't tell you exactly what they were (I can't remember), but, I know what they were "about".

Acceptance. Compassion. Empathy. (To name a few)

I am a better person because he lived and died and I know that saying that doesn't make me conceited.

I also know that I couldn't be a better person and have Alexander in my arms.

Sucks but true.

What I Want

I don't want to be mad at people for using Moderator Approvals on comments. How silly.
I don't want to be sad about losing Alexander. I want to be happy that he lived.
I don't want to wish away his existence because his loss hurts too much. Seriously, did I just write that?

I want what I can't have.

It Sucks to Be Me

I should have titled this "If I were someone else, I would think that it would suck to be me".

I say that because today I read about a new life. A child being born.

Problem is, that they were born prematurely and a lot of us know how that can turn out...

And that's the kind of statement that makes me think that other people would think it must suck to be me.

This isn't the first time I've thought that someone would die (the moment that they're alive). Heck, I think it all the time with kids of all ages (yep, right up into adulthood and beyond, I don't discriminate against death, it's for everyone).

More importantly (than what other people think) is what do I think. Well, I think that it sucks that the first thing I think about when I hear that someone has been born is that they're going to die... soon.

Seeing as I don't have any condition that would limit me from thinking differently, the question becomes, what am I going to do about it.

And that's just it, I don't know.

I write lists, about all the things that I have to be thankful for. Time and time again, I come back to my other list, all the things that I have lost. Thankfully it's a short one with only one entry; Alexander.

That one item is pretty powerful and has taken over my life. I'd like to pretend that it hasn't but I think about what I don't have A LOT of the time. There are glimpses of true happiness but they are immediately followed by sorrow, missing Alexander.

I need a new way of looking at things.

Reading other BLM blogs really helps me figure out where I am (or where I'm not if that makes sense). A recent post suggested that sometimes (perhaps) one needs to step away from the community for awhile to get some clarity.

Am I using all of you as a crutch or as a vital lifeline? Like if I didn't have you, it would really suck to be me?

Awaiting Moderator Approval

What is up with comments requiring "Moderator Approval"?

Is it to protect themselves from hurtful, cruel, trolls?

If that's the case, I can't see how they're fulfilling their goal. You see, they have to read all the posts before they get posted hence nullifying their ability to protect themselves from said hurtful posts.

Whereas, if they allowed people to comment to their hearts content, and didn't like what they've said, they can delete it. Less work, same outcome.

Regardless, both require them to read the comment.

I'm not one to comment but every once in a while I get up the guts. I don't usually check for a reply or response to my comment unless I specifically ask a question. However, when it's one of those "awaiting moderator approval", I always bookmark it.

Recently, my comment didn't measure up. She didn't approve it.

Maybe it's for control. Maybe they want to make sure that they read all the comments from their loyal followers. Maybe they don't know that Blogger can automatically send them an email when a comment is left. Maybe I'm missing something.

Did she just not see it (is that even possible)? Or, was it just not good enough? After submitting my comment I received a message that stated "Your comment was saved and is Waiting for Moderator Approval" so I know that it was received somewhere...

I know that I shouldn't let it bother me but it does.

In or Out?

So I've had tons of post ideas circling in my head for weeks (it's pretty busy in there) but I haven't posted anything.

I always get started and then can't figure out what I'm "really" trying to say.

This post started out about wanting to ask you for the recommendation of an educational video tape (with singing, dancing and/or music, amongst other things) for kids under three.

Then I thought, don't do that (the horror).

Then I came up with a whole bunch of excuses reasons why I needed to post about it; I have another blog but only my family looks at it. I'd tried to Google things but it's hard to search for something that you don't know exists. I could email some people but most I know have kids younger or are in high school.

And then I thought that maybe I don't have enough (in real life) friends (totally another post and unrelated, or is it?).

Then I heard some of you talking to me from my left shoulder (not really, at least not yet) saying "Fuck those that don't understand" that "aren't supportive". "Deal with your grief your way".

And from the right I was hearing, "People come here to hear about life with loss not videotapes" and "Here we go again, that kind of insensitive talk is exactly what got you kicked out of the Infertile Club".

Through all the fucked up disjointed (yet connected) thoughts I kept coming back to the fear that I would be thrown out of the "BLM Club". (Never thought I'd say that, smile).

So, now that I've done it (posted about videotapes), am I In or Out?

P.S. I now realize that my fear of mentioning videotapes was just a metaphor for the fear that I have regarding all the other things going on in my head.

P.P.S. If you happen to have any recommendations, I'd really appreciate it. I don't know anything about anything (to do with videos) so feel free to educate me. Or just educate me in general.