It was on this same day, 11 months ago. Brittany had taken her last breath, but we couldn't bare to walk away from her yet. I had spent the whole night next to her with off and on fits of crying. I would whisper to her all I wanted her to know. I made the realization that when it comes down to it, all that matters, all that I want my kids to know, is that I love them, and am so very proud of them. My mind was a blank as to what else to say, so over and over I told her that I love her. That she will always be a part of my heart, a part of my soul. I told her how happy she had made me, that my life was so much more full because she was a part of it. For hours I whispered to her, almost like I didn't want to disturb her sleep. I wanted her to be at peace, and to feel my love with her heart, not just hear it with her ears.
As family came, and as emotions got the better of me, my body started to go into shock. I can so clearly remember sitting in one of the family waiting rooms. Every seat was taken, and there were still some in Brittany's room, having their own time with her. I sat there, not really looking at anything, and not really thinking either. Somewhere I heard someone ask me when the last time I ate was. It sounded a mile away. I knew they were talking to me, but I didn't feel like I was a part of myself. I couldn't remember the last time I ate. I had skipped breakfast the morning I took Brittany into the Dr, and I never left her side from that point on. But food sounded repulsive. I was encouraged to sleep, but every time I closed my eyes all I could see was my girl hooked up to so many machines. The sounds of each of them echoing in my ears. And the stillness... the quiet... I longed to hear her heart beat again. No, sleep was not a good idea. So John decided I needed some fresh air. Just a few minutes, anything to allow me to connect to life. We were only walking to the parking garage to get something from the car, but on the way there we passed a small remembrance garden. We wondered around very solemnly.
It was early morning at the time. I usually love that time of day. The sun was just starting to warm things up, but we could still see our breath as we breathed in the city air. The hum of traffic, the sounds of birds as they flew by. I can remember it all so clearly. It was then that I noticed for the first time one of the many angels they had in that garden. I had previously thought angles were a bit on the corny side. I thought they were cute, just didn't understand the significance of them. But that first one I saw hit me so hard. It dawned on me that I now had my own angel. Everything in me longed to have something to symbolize how I was feeling, and that angel did that. It was a simple angel, but she was sad. She wasn't sad for her, she wasn't hurting physically. She was sad for those she loved, it was her heart that was hurting. And yet, she was happy too. She was free, and she had so much love. She was what I knew was now how Brittany felt. So now I get it. Now I get why people love angels so much. It's not just because they are cute. It's so much more than that, it's so much deeper than just how they look. It's how they help your heart to feel.
Friday, November 8, 2013
It's her month
It's November 1st... I've been dreading this day for months. This is the the final count down to were all my pain started. November I supposed to be Brittany's month. I should be birthday shopping for her. I should be planning out how to celebrate her birthday with Thanksgiving just the next day. We should be having her start Drivers Ed soon... Maybe it's good for everyone, on this one instance that she isn't taking Drivers Ed! Brittany always had a way of making this HER month. She had an excitement that no one could duplicate. Instead of being excited, I am terrified. Instead of planning a birthday, I trying to plan a remembrance day. When everyone is out having Thanksgiving with cousins and grandparents, we will be eating alone. It is the only way to allow John time to spend remembering Brittany on her birthday, rather than spending the few hours he has after work, traveling.
I also can't think about her birthday without thinking about her being so sick during her last birthday last year. That sickness would eventually get so extreme we would hospitalize her, where she would seize, and be life flighted to Primary Childrens, the place she would end up taking her last breath.
I feel so dumb for being afraid of a month. A month can't talk. A month is just days with a name attached to them. But I am afraid. I am very afraid. I am afraid of what this month holds for me. I am afraid of the pain that I know this month will give to me. I pray for sleep that no longer comes. I pray for peace that I can't seem to find. I pray for the numbness that I felt in the beginning to return, when I know that it won't. I pray that I can hide my feelings from others, even though they can already see it in my eyes. I pray for so many things that I know I just can't have.
I also can't think about her birthday without thinking about her being so sick during her last birthday last year. That sickness would eventually get so extreme we would hospitalize her, where she would seize, and be life flighted to Primary Childrens, the place she would end up taking her last breath.
I feel so dumb for being afraid of a month. A month can't talk. A month is just days with a name attached to them. But I am afraid. I am very afraid. I am afraid of what this month holds for me. I am afraid of the pain that I know this month will give to me. I pray for sleep that no longer comes. I pray for peace that I can't seem to find. I pray for the numbness that I felt in the beginning to return, when I know that it won't. I pray that I can hide my feelings from others, even though they can already see it in my eyes. I pray for so many things that I know I just can't have.
She trusted me
I think one of the hardest parts about being a parent to a teenager, is hoping your child will trust you, and come to you at any time they may be in trouble. One hopes that this time of trouble will never happen, but prays that if that time does come, their relationship is strong enough that the child will feel safe enough to ask for help from you.
A year ago tonight, I was able to know that Brittany and I had that strength of relationship. Because of what happened I was able to not only hope Brittany loved and trusted me, I knew it. I was able to see from her that she would come to me in a difficult situation. She would trust me to help her and love her through it. For her, I was able to show her that she would always come first. That I would fight for her, no matter what, and to any extreme. That my love for her would always take priority over anything that this world would throw at us.
At the time I was so upset, so mad, and so hurt for my girl. But now, I'm just grateful for that chance to know that we had that relationship that you always pray you can have with your kids.
A year ago tonight, I was able to know that Brittany and I had that strength of relationship. Because of what happened I was able to not only hope Brittany loved and trusted me, I knew it. I was able to see from her that she would come to me in a difficult situation. She would trust me to help her and love her through it. For her, I was able to show her that she would always come first. That I would fight for her, no matter what, and to any extreme. That my love for her would always take priority over anything that this world would throw at us.
At the time I was so upset, so mad, and so hurt for my girl. But now, I'm just grateful for that chance to know that we had that relationship that you always pray you can have with your kids.
Waiting for my real hug
Today I had an appointment right after work that I was rushing out the door to. It was turning stormy so I was looking for a jacket to put on. Being a girl that enjoys "accessorizing" I was looking for my brown jacket that I hadn't worn in a very long time. The last place I remember seeing it was in a coat closet that I don't really ever use. I scrambled through it, and rushed out the door tossing it on as I ran to the car. As I pulled out I felt something prick my wrist. I looked to try to figure out what it was and noticed my inner sleeves were scattered with dry bits of grass and a few thorns from the weeds. Like a wave crashing over me it all came back so sudden... It was this time last year, and Brittany was needing to go to a youth activity. Like the rest of our family always is, she was running late and couldn't find her jacket. Brittany was always very thin and my clothes would drown her out. But I did have one jacket that ties at the waist, so it would probably work. I let her try it on just to make sure, and was impressed at how well it looked on her. It looked so good that I was considering letting her keep it. As she hurried out I remember hoping she would enjoy herself. She wasn't the athletic type at all, and a lot the the activities she went to involved coordination, of which she had very little. She would always feel self conscience during these and worry that she would mess up any team she was on. But she would try and give it her best effort anyway. That night she came home with a big grin on her face, and grass and debris all over. I would have normally been a little upset with her for getting my clothes so dirty, but I was too happy that she had such a good time. I told her to just hang up the jacket for now, we'd wash it later, and to go shower so she could get to bed. In the closet is where it has waited ever since. I have been wearing this jacket the remainder of the evening, knowing her arms were the last ones inside of it. It feels like she is here, embracing me. If only she really could...
Please wake up
My family is very accustomed to going to the doctor. Seems like there is something always going on. You hear this often, but we are seriously not your typical family. We have the most crazy things happen, and we are the kind of family that one of us will get a paper-cut and it will get infected and need surgery to fix it. In the 10 months since Brittany has passed away, we have had to take John into the ER for what we were afraid was a stroke (less than a month after taking Brittany there) Kaitlyn has had to have surgery on a broken leg, and several doctor visits.
Some of these I will post about later, but the most recent "event" was yesterday. My youngest has always had issues with her ears. Because of them, she was quite delayed as a baby. As an example she didn't roll over at all until she was 9 months old. She had tubes put in at 2, but continued to have lots of problems. Yesterday I took her in to have her Adenoids removed and new tubes put in. I was grateful it was being done at the surgical center rather than the hospital. The hospital is still too difficult for me to be able to handle for too long, no matter what area of the hospital I am in. But surgery is still surgery. I was actually doing quite well until we were in the back, getting her prepped. The nurse was going over all the little details and disclaimers they have to warn us about that everyone always tunes out. During this tune out I thought to myself there is always that risk of not waking up... She has to wake up!! What if she doesn't??.... I can't... I CAN'T do this again!!!... I stared at my sweet little girl. She held her fuzzy little blanket she has loved since the day she was born, and clutched tight her "Brittany pillow", with her eyes wide and trusting, trying to understand everything that was being said. In my mind I plead, and begged to her... Please wake up... You can't fall asleep and die.. Please, please! Please wake up for me! She hadn't even laid down yet, and already I was afraid I was going to lose her.
I snapped out of the trance I had put myself in, and forced myself to focus. Just as I did this, the nurse commented on the pillow she had brought with her. So nonchalantly she replied, "oh, my sister died and someone made this for us." For a 7 year old this was all that needed to be said. But what she didn't include was that this pillow was made from the dress we had buried Brittany in. I had cut out the back portion of her dress, so that it wasn't noticeable, and a dear friend used the little bit I could get to make pillows for each of my kids.
These pillows have come to be so precious to us. They continue to rest next to the head of each sleeping child. They are brought to every overnight event. There have been times when it has been forgotten, and as I am about to fall asleep, I hear crying from a daughter because she just can't sleep without it, and has come home to retrieve it. It has become a source of tenderness, and strength.
As I kissed my little girl on her forehead, and they wheeled her back to do their procedure, I fought the tears hoping this wouldn't be my final kiss to my sweet little girl. I watched her little fist grip her pillow. I sat, and I waited. I made the small talk that is expected with other ladies waiting for their little ones as well. My mind was always on my little girl. The relief I felt when I could see into her eyes again, and hear her say my name was overwhelming.
I can never promise my kids that when we go to the doctor they can be fixed and get better. I promised that to Brittany, over and over again, and all it did was turn me into a liar in her last hours. But I can promise I will do everything in my ability to fight for them, and do all I can to protect them.
Some of these I will post about later, but the most recent "event" was yesterday. My youngest has always had issues with her ears. Because of them, she was quite delayed as a baby. As an example she didn't roll over at all until she was 9 months old. She had tubes put in at 2, but continued to have lots of problems. Yesterday I took her in to have her Adenoids removed and new tubes put in. I was grateful it was being done at the surgical center rather than the hospital. The hospital is still too difficult for me to be able to handle for too long, no matter what area of the hospital I am in. But surgery is still surgery. I was actually doing quite well until we were in the back, getting her prepped. The nurse was going over all the little details and disclaimers they have to warn us about that everyone always tunes out. During this tune out I thought to myself there is always that risk of not waking up... She has to wake up!! What if she doesn't??.... I can't... I CAN'T do this again!!!... I stared at my sweet little girl. She held her fuzzy little blanket she has loved since the day she was born, and clutched tight her "Brittany pillow", with her eyes wide and trusting, trying to understand everything that was being said. In my mind I plead, and begged to her... Please wake up... You can't fall asleep and die.. Please, please! Please wake up for me! She hadn't even laid down yet, and already I was afraid I was going to lose her.
I snapped out of the trance I had put myself in, and forced myself to focus. Just as I did this, the nurse commented on the pillow she had brought with her. So nonchalantly she replied, "oh, my sister died and someone made this for us." For a 7 year old this was all that needed to be said. But what she didn't include was that this pillow was made from the dress we had buried Brittany in. I had cut out the back portion of her dress, so that it wasn't noticeable, and a dear friend used the little bit I could get to make pillows for each of my kids.
These pillows have come to be so precious to us. They continue to rest next to the head of each sleeping child. They are brought to every overnight event. There have been times when it has been forgotten, and as I am about to fall asleep, I hear crying from a daughter because she just can't sleep without it, and has come home to retrieve it. It has become a source of tenderness, and strength.
As I kissed my little girl on her forehead, and they wheeled her back to do their procedure, I fought the tears hoping this wouldn't be my final kiss to my sweet little girl. I watched her little fist grip her pillow. I sat, and I waited. I made the small talk that is expected with other ladies waiting for their little ones as well. My mind was always on my little girl. The relief I felt when I could see into her eyes again, and hear her say my name was overwhelming.
I can never promise my kids that when we go to the doctor they can be fixed and get better. I promised that to Brittany, over and over again, and all it did was turn me into a liar in her last hours. But I can promise I will do everything in my ability to fight for them, and do all I can to protect them.
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