The Need to Write

Dear Mica,
I just need to write to you and tell you stories, so many things have been on my mind. When Fred was born we accidentally called him Mica a lot. Totally normal and if you were here it would be funny even. But you are not here, so it just hurts. Not just mommy and daddy do it, but everybody in the family. I hate the look on people’s faces when they look at me to see if I heard them or not. I try to tell them it is okay to to say your name but they quickly change the subject. So I thought I had gotten use to it happening, and then the other day I called him Ned and corrected myself straight to Fred. I caught myself, and cried because it was the first time Mica didn’t slip in between.

Ned is finishing up 5th grade. This school year has felt like a waste. Everything combined to make it a really rough year: Our super special gifted teacher retired, a not so great teacher placement, my pregnancy and birth of Fred kept me out of the school. Ned and I both hope next year is better. He will be in the middle school, which is attached to the high school and runs on the same bells. So no more bus ride for math class and missing out on what is going on in his normal classroom. Fred will be older, so hopefully I can be more involved and fingers crossed for a couple of teachers that appreciate Ned for who he is.

Fred is 4 months old. We are done trying to breast feed. It has been hard on mommy to accept being done, but we are and I think I’m okay with it. It isn’t what I planned, but if your death taught me anything, it taught me that things don’t go as planned. Fred is happy and growing. He has fat rolls and is just starting to belly laugh. He scoots in a circle on his back, but no rolling over lately. He has an adorable toothless grin and he scrunches his eyebrows just like you did. Everybody says he looks like Ned, but I see a lot of you in him. I don’t know if people are afraid to say that or if I’m the only one that sees it. He has your darker hair and his eyes are a darker blue, although he is fairer skinned they you ever were. Your grandma seems to be on a mission to convince me that he looks like daddy (duh), I’m not sure why.

Mommy is trying to figure out a t-shirt design to celebrate you and raise money for the library. We meet another family that had a little boy die just like you and one thing they do is that everybody they know wears a t-shirt they had made on his birthday and the anniversary of his death. I want to do it, but I can’t figure out a design. I think I need to take a sketch pad with me on vacation and just draw. Maybe it will just come to me.

I love you baby boy. Yesterday, today and tomorrow too.

It all just Sucks

I need to write. I need to get all of these thoughts and feelings out of my head. I need to feel them all and then let them go because I can’t fix it and I can’t change anything about where I am at. I am in a bad place right now. I am struggling with grief, postpartum hormones and breast feeding failure. I don’t know even know at this point which tear is for which issue, I just know they are all there and I can’t do a dang thing about any of them.

The grief: 2 plus years later and I miss you just as much as the day you died Mica. 2 plus years later and I’m still struggling to make since of the world without you in it. 2 plus years later and your daddy and I have yet to get you a headstone, we just can’t make a decision on it. 2 plus years later and I still don’t know why and I struggle to make others understand that we don’t know why (because apparently many believe that you died of a virus… but if that was the case wouldn’t they want to know which one???)

Postpartum Hormones: I had PPD with Ned, I know how it feels. I know how I reacted last time. I sort of feel like I might be headed down that path again but it is hard to know when there is so many other things at play. I have no desire to hurt myself or Fred, so I know that we will be okay but I wish there was a way to treat PPD other then just with a standard anti-depressant. I’m scared of anti-depressants, I don’t want to stop missing Mica. I need to be able to cry for Mica and not hate everybody else in the world.

Breast Feeding Failure: I have always been proud that I nursed Ned and Mica past their first birthday’s. Neither of them ever had formula, I was able to pump enough for them to have bottles when I wasn’t there and I nursed them when I was. But this go around is so very different. Fred didn’t gain weight like he should, at a month he was only 4 oz over his birth weight. I week after that, still the same. So we started supplementing. I couldn’t pump enough to keep up so we started formula and I did my best to pump as much as possible and keep nursing him as much as possible. But he started to scream at me when I offered the breast and I have yet to pump more then about 12 oz in a day, so he has had more formula then breast milk.

His issue was a tongue, lip and buccle tie. He had them all laser-ed, we worked a chiropractor and a lactation consultant but he just prefers the bottle. He is back to screaming at me when I offer him the breast. I don’t know how much of my reaction is the other issues, but I’m almost done trying. I feel like all I think about is how to feed him. I don’t play with him, I don’t have time to just enjoy him, I don’t even have to time to write up a post about what he is up to… but it is hard to say we are done. It is hard to admit defeat. I told Sam last night that I think it must feel a bit like a man who can’t get an erection. I feel impotent, powerless. Breast feeding babies was my supper power and it is gone.

It all just sucks.
Exhale. I hope this helps.

I love you Mica. Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow, too.

You are a big brother

Dear Mica,
I’ve told you in many ways, but I haven’t written it to you… so I thought I should say “you are a big brother.” Your baby brother Fred was born 7 weeks ago and clearly expecting him and having him kept me confused/scared/worried enough that I couldn’t even put my thoughts together to write anything. We found out we were pregnant last April and Fred’s due date was way too close to the anniversary of your death. Mommy panicked a lot thinking about him sharing a birthday with a date that is all about you. But mommy’s doctor said early on that we could avoid that date, and we did.

Let’s see, pregnancy summary: not as sick as I was with you or Ned. Diclegis seemed to be my wonder drug and for that I am grateful. I still had no energy and couldn’t go to the grocery store but I gained 15 pounds (which after only gaining 1 and 2 pounds during my previous pregnancy seemed like a lot). I developed gestational diabetes. It wasn’t so bad except that I had to be good for Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. We made 2 “practice” runs to the hospital thinking I was in labor. The first was around 36 weeks and turned out that I was dehydrated. The second was on the Sunday before Fred was born and is the beginning of his birth story.

Fred’s birth story: Sunday afternoon I started having contractions. I tried all the tricks to stop them/test if they were real. Nothing paused them and they were getting more and more intense. So we called the doctor and got told to go in, we meet grandma and grandpa at the hospital so Ned could go with them. After an hour of monitoring the contractions, I was told to walk for an hour because I wasn’t progressing. 2 hours later and still no progress we were released but the nurse was convinced we would be back that night. Sam and I went to get some dinner and by the time we were done the rain that was falling was freezing on everything. We couldn’t drive 30 miles home with the thought of driving back in the middle of the night. So we got a hotel room. Around 3 am, the contractions stopped. The next morning we woke up to a winter wonderland. We were now 24 hours from the beginning of our induction and driving home and back still didn’t sound like a good idea. We had brunch and then caught a mid-day showing of the new Star Wars movie before deciding to spend another night in the hotel.

Tuesday morning we woke up and drove the ½ mile to the hospital ready to have a baby. We got check in and settled in our room. We had a newbie nurse and her trainer all to ourselves for the day. I told them all about you and they put a sign on the door that nobody could come in without talking to them first. That way I didn’t have figure out how to answer “is this your first?”, “how many kids do you have?”, “how old are they?” and worst “are they excited for the new baby?” all of which I faced during the first “practice” run. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell everybody that this baby had 2 big brothers, but when somebody comes in to draw blood and is just making their standard chit-chat it is hard to end up in tears. I actually had a couple of nice chats with nurses about you and what our family has been through.

Things progressed very slowly. The doctor came in early and tried to break my water but couldn’t so she returned at noon to try again. She wasn’t sure if she got it, but before she left the room there was a gush of fluids that said that she had. Fred was facing the wrong direction so we had to get him to turn a bit so I spent a couple of hours with what they called “the peanut”. By 4pm, I was ready for baby to come, but your little brother didn’t want to be exactly like his older brothers (Ned born at 4:25 and you born at 4:45), so we waited. The nurses’ day was done at 7pm, so they were saying he had to hurry up so they could meet him. Mommy’s regular doctor went home at 5, so we got one of her partners around 6:30 when we were ready. The monitor kept losing Fred’s heart beat, which made the nurses panic and therefore mommy but he was okay. The doctor then noticed that the cord was around his neck and said lets get him out, push, breathe, push and about 60 seconds later your brother was out at 6:41. He felt tiny, at least compared to you, when he was laid on my chest. Mommy and Daddy cuddled and cried with Fred for a long time before we finally let Ned come back to meet him. Ned helped the nurses weigh and measure him, he was 6 lbs. 15.7 oz and 19 ¾ inches with a 12 inch head. Then your grandmas and grandpa got to meet him.

The past 7 weeks have been an emotional roller coaster, but those stories will need to wait for another post. We love your little brother and I so wish you were here to give him kisses because I love you Mica, yesterday, today and tomorrow too.

Surviving

Dear Mica, We survived the 1^st of many to come holiday seasons without you. We survived Christmas and New Years and even the anniversary of your death. We all survived, but I don’t think any of us enjoyed much of it. Don’t get me wrong, we had moments of laughter, but at least for me it just left me missing you.

For Christmas, we made a book of photos of you to give to everybody. It was hard to create and hard to hand out but it felt good to have everybody in the room thinking about you and your happy times. I used some copy from this blog, to document your milestones. I was thankful to have those words, written by me before the world changed because I tried to write them from me now and it just couldn’t be done.

Santa brought us an elephant ornament. An animal to remind us of our animal lover and a physical elephant to maybe keep the metaphorical elephant in the room at bay. He also left a blue marble in your stocking. Ned took that to mean that he needed to take it to your grave, I has assumed that it was a replacement one for the one Ned gave to you in your casket. Which ever way, I hope that it will become a tradition.

For New Years we visited our adopted family of friends. We slept in the same room that we shared with you just days before you died, and it was hard. We watched the other siblings sets fight and interact and it was hard. And I watched Ned watch them with a sadness in his eyes and that really hurt. Our friends struggled to talk about you, to tell me stories like Sam had asked them to do. But they did, and we all cried.

On the anniversary of your death, we holed up with just the three of us. We cried and hugged and Daddy cleaned the ovens. We went to the cemetery with the marble in hand, but Ned couldn’t leave it there and asked if he could do it later. We of course said yes. We left chocolate hugs for you and before we left, Ned went back to have a moment to himself. I don’t know what he said to you in that moment, but he gave the chocolate hug a kiss and set it up right. I hate to say that Sam and I were glad to see Ned cry, but he has been such a closed book that we were relieved to see him let some emotion out.

I love you little boy. Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow too.

The Christmas Letter I can’t send

Dear Family and Friends,

This year has sucked. All but the first 2 days of it have just plain SUCKED. It has been a year long nightmare. The kind I wish that nobody has to experience. I still go to bed each night, hoping that I will wake from the nightmare to the sound of Mica. But each morning, I reset my brain to my new reality that he isn’t here.

We have done our best to muddle through and give Ned as much “normal” as humanly possible but our family is just not normal anymore. We are broken. We all have days or moments of anger or weepy or just numb. But we try to keep up with things for Ned. Getting him to school each day and making it to his activities even when the last thing we want to do is get out of bed and be in public.

The simplest things are hard. Paying bills sucks, there is plenty of money but facing them each month is hard and I have no idea why. Going to the grocery store alone hurts. Doing laundry sucks because there are no diapers or toddler clothes to fold. Facing each and every mundane everyday task is just much harder then it should be. And making a decision about anything (from what to eat to what to do with a free weekend) is enough to send Sam and I into a panic attack.

And then there is the forgetfulness. Things just disappear from my head. Gone. No idea what was there, but pretty sure there was something that I was going to say or do… if I even remember that much.

So please forgive us if we hide in the corner or have to go outside for a bit. Or if we are late or forget about something all together. Because this year sucks.

And please forgive me when I look at your “perfect” family with despise and think to myself “why me.” I don’t wish our road on anybody, but at this point in time I would pick any road but mine. I am working on remembering that everybody has a story, and I don’t know who else is wearing a mask to cover a broken heart. My mask is new and cracks a lot allowing the tears to escape but others have been wearing theirs longer.

And please, oh please, mention Mica. Say his name. Tell me what you remember about him. Tell me you thought of him for this reason or that. Just let me know that you have not forgotten the little boy who means the world to me. Yes, I will cry as soon as you start, so cry with me because he mattered and you remember him.

Because it isn’t fair. We only got 17 months with a little boy who was such a joy. And it isn’t fair that we have no idea why he is gone. We have nobody or thing to hate and try to cure. And it isn’t fair that Ned has to ask “will I always be an only child?” None of it is fair and this year just SUCKS.

Love,
Esme

PS. I love you Mica, yesterday, today and tomorrow too.

Grief-cation

Dear Mica, Sorry mommy hasn’t written in so long, but it is hard. We survived your birthday without you here. We ran away on a month long road trip, so that we could be alone as a family and not worry about what anybody else would try to do for your birthday. We spent your birthday in Bryce Canyon Utah. It was breath taking, and we sang happy birthday to you out over the Canyon… I hope you could hear us. We also visited Rocky Mountain National Park, the Grand Canyon, Zion National Park, Sequoia National Forest, the Pacific Ocean, and what felt like a hundred other places along the way. Always thinking of you. We took Ty Bear along, so mommy and daddy could talk to you through him. It was a good trip with way too many tears. I wish you had been along to see all the beautiful things.

Ned has completed his first quarter of 4^th grade and it is going well. He is also going up to the Middle School for pre-algebra, which he loves despite his hesitation when it was discussed last year. He competed in a math competition and won first place. We are proud of him. He has also been working with the counselor at school and seems to be talking about you a bit more. It is helping that he has a friend joining him, her daddy died a month ago, so they are working together on how to grieve and remember. Ned also turned 8 this past week, it didn’t have the celebratory feel that it has in the past, but Happy Birthday Ned.

With summer gone, and fall here in full force this week, mommy and daddy are facing the upcoming holidays. In so many ways I want to run away for them as well, but I know that I can’t for Ned. I hope that those around us will be gentle with us in the next couple of months.

I love you baby boy. Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow too.

Pondering

Things I have pondered over the past 5 months

1. What in the world could cause a seemingly healthy 17^th month-old little boy to just not wake up from a nap?
2. How do I live the rest of my life without Mica?
3. Is this the worst pain a person can endure or is there something even worse? Would it be worse if he had been older? Or younger? Would it have been worse if he had been sick or taken by an actual accident or at the hand of another human? Would me or Sam dieing be harder on the one left behind or would it be harder on Ned and Mica then this is on Sam and I?
4. Was it different to have a child die 100 years ago when it was much more common? Did it make it easier because of expectation or because almost everybody had buried a child so everybody knew how you felt? Would I feel any different 100 years ago?
5. Could I go on if something happened to Sam or Ned? Or would I have to, the same way I have to right now for them.

Things I don’t ponder anymore

1. Where I would go if I had a time machine.

Love you baby boy. Yesterday, today and tomorrow too.

Last Day of School

Dear Mica, Today is the last day of school for the year. Your big brother will be home for the summer and you would have been thrilled to have him home more. The 3 of us should be getting ready to spend our days at the pool and playing with friends. You would have been so fun this summer. But instead mommy is wondering how she will find enough time to cry without scaring your brother.

So, Ned has finished the 3^rd grade. He actually had a good year at school. He has made a lot of new friends and also held onto his old ones. He is overall happy and even thanked mommy for allowing him to double skip on his school mother’s day project.

He will be a 4^th grader next year and I can only hope that the school continues to be his safe place. He will also be going to the middle school for pre-algebra class with the 7^th graders. I am hoping that he will have some friendly faces from last year’s math class but if nothing else there will be one 6^th grader that he adores in with him. We got to meet his teacher last week, and she seemed very nice and ready to take on the challenge of working with your brother.

I hope that it is okay that I tell you what your brother is up to even though it hurts mommy to think about you not getting to do those same things someday. I love you Mica, yesterday, today and tomorrow too.

Ramblings

Dear Mica, Mommy is having trouble writing. I have lots of stuff I want to say to you but I can’t seem to finish a thought or find the right words. Mommy and daddy are struggling so much without you. We are both so grief stricken that it is hard to make ourselves do anything. Easter was crazy hard, mommy couldn’t even look at the little kids at the city easter egg hunt and visiting my grandma’s house and seeing your second cousin ripped at mommy and daddy’s hearts.

We finally got the report from your autopsy and as I feared they found nothing but the adenovirus. But there was no organ damage from the adenovirus, so I don’t understand how it can be considered the cause. My understanding is that if you die from the adenovirus there should be evidence of lung or brain damage caused by the infection. The only sign of an infection in your tiny little body was swollen lymph nodes. I have been talking with the SUDC (Sudden unexplained death in childhood) program and I’m hoping that they can help me understand and they might have a study coming up that will lead to more testing to see if they can find a cause.

I went to Costco the other day and there was a little boy in the cart in front of me in the check out line. He was 17 months old and kept saying hi and bye. You never had the chance to learn to say either of those but you had other words and so many signs.

Speaking of signs, Ned’s best friend mentioned you yesterday. We were walking home and talking about his little brother. He told me that his little brother (who 2 1/2) isn’t a boy yet because he doesn’t talk much but you could sign so well. It was kind of a weird connection for a 7 year old boy to make but I loved having him say your name. His little brother does talk and asked “where is Micer” a couple of weeks ago. That one made mommy cry because you two were suppose to be buddies and I don’t know how long he will remember you since he is so young.

Ned wants to plan a “fun run” this summer. Mommy and daddy are trying to steer him towards making it a memorial event for you but I’m not sure how hard to push him. We have convinced him to plan it for July sometime around your birthday. He wants to have a 1K race, but some how involve a 3-legged race and running backwards. I’m thinking we will add a pool party to the mix and raise money for the library. We will see if mommy and daddy can help Ned pull the event together.

I love you baby boy. Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow too.

20 months

Dear Mica, You would have been 20 months old today. We went to see a large gathering of migratory birds yesterday and you would have loved it. I could hear you cry out “brd” as they took off and landed. You loved animals of all kinds and I’m just so sorry that we didn’t get you on a horse when we visited your aunt and uncle between Christmas and New Years. You would of loved it but it was cold and dark and there were too many other things to do. And there was suppose to be chance to do it on the next visit.

I love you baby boy. Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow too.