10 months

I couldn't sleep last night. Maybe it is because I'm 37 weeks pregnant. think it had more to do with the fact that my heart and mind knew what today was. Oh how I miss Dylan. It's just not the same without him here. Our family isn't the same. My heart is aching so badly today. I just wish I could see him and hold him. I was looking at one of his pictures on the fridge this morning and couldn't stop looking at his hands and fingers. Why those stuck out to me today, I don't know. I miss his hands. I miss holding his precious hands in mine. I made a mistake, watching Army Wives on my DVR this morning. I knew someone was going to die. I just didn't think it would be the son of one of the main characters. I know it was just a TV show, but the feelings I felt the day Dylan died, the planning of the funeral, and burying him came rushing back. I'm not in a good place today. My heart is aching and the tears flow freely. I just wish with every fiber of my being that Dylan were here. I'm still in shock that it's been 10 months since that dreaded day, when I woke up to my world crashing down.

Another week

I still live my life in terms of weeks. Our family's time line of events is always referred back to the weekend Dylan died. I've been told that it won't always be that way. I'm not sure I believe it yet. I'm ponder how we've made it to almost 10 months without our bubba here. There is still a fog or haze that I feel I'm living in. There hasn't been a lot of sunshine shining through.

I miss him. With the arrival of Isabella so soon, the weight is building on my heart and chest. It kinda reminds me the first time I can remember going to the beach and watching the waves come in and out. I remember being warned to be careful while playing in the water because a big wave could come and I could get pulled under. I remember the crashing waves against my legs. The water seemed to rise with each wave. I remember the excitement. Flash forward to now, I can't see the wave coming but I can feel it. There isn't a sense of excitement coming like there was as a kid. Now, it's anxiety. Lots of it. I can't control this wave. It not something that I can just say, "it'll be okay or there is no need to worry." I have NO idea how it's going to be. That's the scary part. While I am anxious to meet our newest baby, I am so nervous that something will go wrong. I'm human after all. This anxiety I feel isn't something that I can just turn off. It's there. It's real. Being "anxious" pretty much everyday of my life since May 28, 2010 is very hard. I don't like being this way. It just comes with the territory. I worry something will happen to Kalen and Brianna the most. Kalen jokingly asks if I know something but just haven't shared all the details to him. Death is so real for me and our family. While I have experienced having loved ones die, Dylan's death is just so different. It's so consuming and seems to find it's way into our everyday lives.

Dylan has missed out on so much. From little things to big things. Brianna playing soccer, Brianna going to kindergarten, Brianna losing her first two teeth, a new sibling coming. Then there are the everyday things he has missed. I'm sure he's watching down on us but its not the same. He's not here.

Waking up at 4am everyday is my time that I really reflect on Dylan. That was my time to get up with him. It's amazing how my body still does it automatically. Oh how I wish I could just walk into his room right now. Scoop him up and rock him, sing to him, see him. I loved watching him sleep. He looked so peaceful. I wish I could feel some of that peace again...........

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Unraveling

That's the only word that I can think of at this moment to describe what I'm feeling. My world is spinning out of control fast.

I found out yesterday that the baby is breech, my doctor can't do my c-section due to a back injury she has and my c-section date is sooner. This wasn't "the plan".

Of course I looked up breech babies online and it's says that there may be a birth defect and that's why some babies don't turn. I need her to turn. I need her to be healthy. I need her to be perfect. I need a lot of things right now and feel so alone, frustrated, and scared. I've had an underlying feeling that something was going to go wrong. Hopefully this is all that it is. My mind, body and heart can't take much more.

Anyone have any luck turning a breech baby at 36 weeks? I need ideas.

Also please do me a favor. Don't ask how I'm doing the next three weeks. Tears flow instantly when asked that question, and the sobbing begins. Just smile at me or give me a hug.


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9 Months

I wanted to do a post on the 28th but I tried to push the overwhelming emotions back. I knew that if I blogged they would surface and I'd be more of a mess than I was that day.

I miss Dylan so much. It's still so strange that he isn't here sitting in his wheelchair everyday. How am I ever going to get use to this? I wish that I could look over and see him sitting there smiling and laughing.

A year ago today we had gone to Kaiser to have a few tests done on Dylan. I remember him laughing before they put him under.


(I miss that grin, more than words can describe)

I never thought that in just a few months from then he wouldn't be here. The test results had shown that his seizure meds were causing a lot of inflammation to his liver and intestines. That explained why he was so unhappy for the prior 9 months. Since we did the tests, we were able to change his meds. It was great to have our happy Dylan back. He was happy. Content. Life was good. It was hard (in a different way from now), but it was life. I miss everything that comes with raising Dylan. I still don't feel like myself. I don't like that I can cry at nothing. Tears are triggered at random things. I feel like I'm going crazy sometimes. I get so jealous when I see families in tact. I struggle that it's not fair that other people have all their kids here. Safe in their homes. Living. Breathing. I don't mean that in a bad way but it's so hard. When people see our family, they don't see all of us. I desperately want people to know that I have an awesome kid that passed away. He had the best laugh, personality, smile, and countenance about him. There are so many people that I wish could have known him first hand. He's AWESOME!

Back to the 9 month mark. I can't believe it. Has it really been that long since I held my sweet boy? I look at his pictures and still have that feeling that he has to have been real. Meaning that we have his things, photos, hair that we cut at the hospital before we said our goodbyes, handprints, clothes and memories of him, but yet he isn't here. It's so hard to process that he isn't here. While I feel the initial shock wearing off, there has come a whole new set of emotions and thoughts. We are rapidly approaching the birth of our baby and the year mark of Dylan's death. How am I suppose to make sense of that? I want to do something meaningful for his year mark, but am going to be recovering from a c-section. I was thinking of creating a race in honor of Dylan and making a donation to one of the many places that served Dylan. I wouldn't be able to participate so maybe I'll hold off till the 2nd year mark. I'm stuck on this. It bothers me that I don't have anything planned. I need help. I want people to remember him. I NEED them to.

I have so many worries. I struggle everyday. I just told another person about Dylan's death today. She of course got teary eyed. I shared with her how I feel crazy and she told me that I always seem put together. I guess looks are deceiving.

A thought that keeps coming to my mind is: "How am I going to care for this new little one being sent to our family?" We've waited so long for her and at the same time my heart wants my son back. While I am excited to meet her, I'm terrified of so many things. How long will she live? Will she be okay? Will she know that we love her? Will she feel out of place as she gets older since she never got a chance to know Dylan? These are just some of the things that are constantly playing in my head. While everyone's first response is that everything will turn out okay, I beg to differ. I know from first hand experience that things can go wrong. We had no reason to believe that Dylan wouldn't be a healthy, "typical" boy when he was born. I wouldn't have changed anything about him. I joined a whole new world when he was born. After all I went to Holland instead of Italy. (There's a poem that describes what it's like after finding out your child isn't the "typical" kid. You special needs families know what I'm talking about) I also didn't think when I woke up at 4am that Friday, it would be the last time I would see the Dylan I knew. Vibrant. Living. Breathing.

He's taught me so much and I know that I will continue to learn from him. The sense of worry is constantly there. Is Brianna going to be okay? How long do we get to have her here? Will she out live us? I have now met a few families who have had multiple children die. Just because Dylan died, doesn't means our family is exempt from anything else bad happening. There are times that I just wish I could have a guarantee that my daugthers will out live me. I don't think I could bury another child.

I think this has got to be one of the most jumbled posts. My mind is all over the place today. Pray for us.