Flashbacks

Post traumatic stress disorder is something one associates with soldiers who have been to war and victims of violent crimes.

It happens to mothers who've endured the death of their child without time to process the experience.

I had nightmares for many years.

Nightmares where I dropped my son Brennan onto to the floor where his head shattered into a thousand pieces.

Nightmares where I woke up sobbing and gasping for breath.

Now these are quite rare.

Today I saw an ambulance and suddenly the picture of Brennan's second bout of seizures came clearly into my mind.

Medic one inserted an IJ(internal jugular) line into his sweet little neck.

Brennan was sent by helicopter to Children's Medical Center.

I think I have dealt with all the emotions and grief when out of the blue I'll have a flashback.  After almost eighteen years.

The mind is a strange and twisty organ.

A Completely Different Perspective

Oh my dear Brennan,

I have come to terms with your death. Finally. Fifteen years after the fact.

I am grateful for the grace of God who's allowed me to realize while you are gone from my current life, you WILL be with me in the afterlife.

You never had to suffer the hardships that come with losing your innocence.

You never had to suffer humiliation and embarrassment. And me, being the over involved mother that I was, would have embarrassed you at some point. I delighted in activities like chaperoning junior high dances. While your brothers secretly enjoyed me being there, they acted like it was their worst nightmare. Haha. I kinda reveled in that.

So now instead of mourning you I embrace the joy you brought to me.

I embrace the lessons I have learned in the past 16 years. Having you in my life has made me a better woman. Losing you has made me a better Christian. Everything thing about you since conception had taught me so much about the heights of joy and the depths of despair.

I have been lifted out of the despair.

Only joy is left.

I will reunite with you on the plains of Heaven.

Woulda, coulda, shoulda

My son you'd be 14 years old now. You'd be excited (and maybe a tiny bit scared) that middle school was almost over and that high school would begin for you in September.

If you took after your older brothers we'd be getting ready for All-Stars in Little League or perhaps you would have moved up to select baseball.

I cannot imagine you not being athletic like your mother. I loved swimming but competing in sports was not my way. I read all the books in the Children's part of the library by the time I was 11.

I began reading adult books. My mother did not censor me but I think she should have. Some of the books I read were complete trash. My mother read them first. That is the only reason I read them because they were easily available.

I remember discovering Steven King books with Salem's Lot. I was reading it at 3a.m. because it was summer in MI and too hot to sleep. It was a scary book about vampires and when a moth hit my window, I barely stifled the scream that was hidden in me. Then I laughed. How silly. It was fiction.

Maybe you would have liked tennis. Your dad was good enough to play the pro circuit, he just did not how to get sponsorship. He was not strong willed enough to defy his father at that point in his life. He was an incredible player.

You would have very limited use of a cell phone(no texting) and a computer. Sorry Bren but your brothers taught me the hard way. You'd whine but they get more time...........blah, blah, blah and I'd say sorry Charlie no go.

I can't imagine you being a shy child as shy doesn't exist in my family history. My mother told me she was a shy child but my brothers weren't shy and I am not shy and your brothers are anything but shy.

I still think of you and miss you just not 24/7 so much. Nursing school takes tons of time and helping people helps me to feel useful.

The Darkest Night

My baby boy, how I miss holding you in my arms, against my chest. I miss hearing you breath, I miss feeling the weight of you as I rocked.

Some days are dark with loneliness and Christmas time is particularly difficult. I cannot get into the spirit even almost 13 years after you slipped away to heaven.

I have fallen into the darkness again. You'd think I would have a handle on this but it just doesn't work that way.

Maybe I am psychologically dysfuctional. They call it dysfuctional grieving in my nursing diagnosis list. Phatttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt to them. No parent ever stops grieving for their lost children. No one.

Sad

I am sad in a way most people could not understand. I wanted four kids. I loved being pregnant and having babies. With us carrying a genetic disease my hopes for another baby nearly dissipated. There was always the possibility of artificial inseimination by donor or invitro with healthy embryos. These ways have been beyong us financially.

I sad to give up hope. I'm sad to be aging out of the getting pregnant age. I'm sad to see my options wither away.

I am having such a difficult time accepting I'll never have a newborn of my own again. Being a grandparent is so NOT the same.

I don't kow what to do but go one with my life pushing through each day and hoping this sadness slowly dwindles away.

Alone

I am alone again. Your brothers are out and your father is asleep and I sit here by myself. If you were here you'd most likely be asleep as well.

Sometimes being so alone hurts. It causes pain beyond belief. This really has nothing to do with you except after you died and your grandmother died I slipped into the abyss of depression.

No one's fault, it was the way my mind and body reacted to unthinkable agony. I have never been as much pain as I was in watching you suffer and die. You had no control over what happened and I wanted so badly to take the pain from you. I couldn't. I was helpless. I had no control over what you went through.

I am so sorry you had to suffer. No infant should have to go through what you went through.

Familes should not be changed, transfigured by a child's life, illness and death.
I would have gladly given my life to save yours.

I don't understand why terrible things happen. I will never comprehend why you had to suffer and die.

I still love you. I still miss you. I will always love and miss you. Part of me will always be alone without you.

Suffering Sweetly

I have no answers. It makes no sense to me. Why did you, an innocent infant, have to suffer? Because You were my son, I felt your suffering acutely. I don't understand why any child has to suffer.

In Myanmar many thousands of children drowned or were blown away on high winds or hit by debris. Because of some stupid politically paranoid government, the children who survived may die of disease, or lack of water and food. Why don't people let others in the country to save the children?

In China a 7.9 earthquake killed thousands of children. They were crushed beneath buildings as the quake shook the roofs loose. Babies crushed in their cribs or with their parents in their homes.

Even thou you suffered my baby boy I was able to rock you and hold you until you took your very last breath. In some ways we were very lucky. We spent the vast majority of your ten months, 11 days together. You died in an embrace of love.
I was blessed to be holding you and you left this world and went on to the next. I'll be seeing you there some day.