Friday, November 7, 2014

Can anyone hear me?

Recently I've had several people ask me why I no longer blog.  Hmm, why don't I?  I guess I began blogging many years ago when I was at a place in my life where I needed healing and to work through that healing blogging seemed to serve a huge purpose for me.  As time passed my heart and soul truly found a place of peace and my need to get the emotions out slowly dwindled.

Needless to say, the last few years have been the greatest emotional ride I've ever experienced.  How does one process it all?  How in the world can it even be possible to find balance in my life these days? 

As I look back from the beginning where we learned that our first grandchild was on the way and then suddenly learned that baby was swept away before we even got to lay eyes on it, to again learning another precious life had been conceived only to find out the inconceivable meaning of HLHS (hypo plastic left heart syndrome) that seemed to be roller coaster enough.  Oh boy, I didn't have a clue.

Here I am, two years later and there has not been a time where I've gotten off that never ending roller coaster.  There have been phone calls telling us that we were losing our Beckham and to immediately get to Texas.  Moments of sitting in the room with him wondering if he would pull through being on life support or the horrid dreaded seizures that he experiences daily, hourly, constantly. Yes, his parents are wonderful photographers, but sweet Beckham is broken.  He cannot focus his eyes on us.  He cannot smile, swallow, breathe on his own, sit, stand, roll over, walk, talk... You name it, the list goes on. 

I've sat and caught a couple of very brief glimpses of heaven, just a couple, where he smiled in his sleep and I was reminded of the little baby that once was.  The baby that could smile... It warmed my heart and then just as quickly plummeted it back to a place of such sorrow that the tears once again fell.

Along the way we experienced the birth of our second grandson.  What a joy!  But, but joy comes at a price for us.  Sitting in a hospital room looking for nurses that don't exist.  Weeping over wires that are not necessary for this little life.  Grieving for Beckham as we look at tiny Cy.  This is not how it should be!  I'm angry.  I'm hurting.  This is not right!!  I'm striving to protect one daughter always and yet working to not take away from the happiness and joy that the other deserves in her moment.

Yes, this has been my

I honestly feel that I have been given the most beautiful and amazing gift in a little boy named Beckham.  Through all the pain and suffering he is still the most life changing thing that has ever happened to me and I will always give thanks for him.  I will always hurt and be in pain for what this baby has endured, but my love is endless toward him.

So I'm blogging.

Today I'm blogging because I just can't deal with the emotions.  Everyone has answers as to how I should feel and how I should deal with this.  You know what?  There is no manual.  I cannot suppress the pain and anger.  I cannot hold in my grief to spare someone else's feelings.  When it comes right down to it, I'm a mother!  This is my family!  I'm suppose to care for everyone and make things better.  I CAN'T!  This is my grandson.  This is changing our entire family.  There are days I wonder if any of us will ever recover.  

I know we are strong people.  I know we all know how to fight, but how do you daily, for two years, stay strong in the battle against death?  How do you live in that valley?  It's a place where if you feel happiness you are eaten alive because somehow you feel so guilty for feeling good.  It's a place where you know you cannot live in sadness because then you have given in to the evil that is working to destroy every good thing.

I just want to scream.  I need to scream.  I want to be heard.  Just once I want to be able to tell it like it is and have someone say it's okay to feel every stinkin', rotten emotion that I feel.  It's okay to cry myself to sleep and cry when I stand in my shower.  It's okay to laugh my head off and want to sing a song at the top of my lungs and not suddenly be overcome with a feelings of being ashamed.

I heard someone comment recently about my daughter seeming angry and bitter in the things she writes.  My heart broke into a million pieces.  Yup, she is.  She's a momma who cares for a son she loves with every ounce of her being, but let's face it, it all sucks for her.  She writes very honestly and open and her days aren't filled with roses and wine.  I wish this journey were not raw and painful, but in the real world things hurt, people bleed, and sometimes it's bitter.

I don't want someone's sermon.  I've heard them all.  I know God is there.  I know all the promises.  I cried out to Him to heal this little baby along with 1000's and He answered "no", at least not here and now.  I'm working to find my way back to Him and to find my way to just learn how to talk with Him again and to know He loves me even in the times when I understand this life the very least.  I find my refuge in Psalm 23.

For now, maybe writing will allow me to let it out.  So much has been held inside for so very long.  There are emotions that have been stuffed so far down as not to hurt others.  Feelings that no one can really understand unless they have walked in my shoes.  

It will be four years in December since I've had my entire family all together in the same place.  If you take nothing else from this post please hear this.  If you can hug those you love and enjoy being a family around a table...DO IT.  If little things have come between you and those you love, let it go! 

I bought this little plaque recently and it sits in the middle of my shrine of family photos.  It reads, "Never miss an opportunity to tell someone you love them."  Trust me, we all need to be loved and to just have a little help getting through the tough times.  I just have to hang on and believe that love will keep us together.  I just need to have a voice and be allowed to use it once in awhile.

So today I blog.