Already a week...

It's been a week since we received the heartbreaking news.. One week which feels like a lifetime, a week of crying and heartache but also those in-between moments which is the reason I'm still standing.. One week since my 'sense of normal' took on a whole new meaning and one week in which my heart has been trying to make sense of how to love my absolute amazing blessings in so many different ways, cause when you try to mend a broken heart the only glue to hold the pieces together is love.. Loving when it hurts so much all you want to do is leave the scattered pieces lying, is therapeutic and healing and I cannot be thankful enough that my two boys are with me right now..

'God understands our prayers even we cannot find the words to say them'

There are so many prayers in my heart right now, some just questions, some pure heartache, no words attached and others for being so thankful for my two boys.. Without them this time would've been so much harder..

I have also learned that you can never underestimate how sensitive our kids are. They might not have the words, but their spirits sense ours and they do not know how and why but I believe they know.. Jaydon is so full of hugs and kisses right now, he'll walk up to me and just hug me, give me kisses when I least expect it and in his way put a band-aid over the wound in my aching heart.. Ethan just wants to be close and held, I've always thought him to be more sensitive and I realise in their own ways they are two very sensitive boys. I see through my heartache glimpses of their spirits which is even more beautiful than I imagined..
And yes they are still two toddlers, they still throw tantrums and hit each other, but somehow right now even that brings some kind of healing into my heart and there are moments that I say thank you that God gave me these moments of reality cause its in those I realise just how blessed I still am...

During this week I've also done so much research and reading, firstly on exactly what was diagnosed and maybe looking for a why and how.. One thing that came through and which my doctor also said its one of those 'really fluke' things that could've happened to anyone.. Yeah right, so much for random fate was my first thought.. With Hannah even though the diagnosis was so different, it was also a 'random' happen-to-anyone-thing.. So the 'synical' me asks - How's that for luck?.. Not something I'm dwelling on, but have wondered why...?

Even though we've been through this twice now, after Hannah we've received two amazing blessings and yes I'll always have the place in my heart and even dreams for the little girl we've lost. And now once again I'll have the dreams and aching for a tiny baby we were never able to hold or see and yet my heart knows should the future hold in it for us another little baby God will see us through....

In all my reading I've come upon a few websites offering comfort for parents in situations like ours.. It somehow helps reading other people's stories and seeing in all its randomness we are not alone. I came across this from 'Still standing magazine' and the words somehow did bring me some comfort..

Why you didn't fail as a mother...

I have to tell you this. You didn’t fail. Not even a little.

You are not a horrible mother.

You didn’t choose this. You didn’t want this to happen. You didn’t do anything wrong. It just happened. To you. Despite your begging, pleading, praying, hoping against all hope that it would not. Even though everything within you was screaming, no no no no no no no no no no!!!!

God didn’t do this to you to punish you, smite you, or to “teach you a lesson”. That is not God’s way. You could not have prevented this if you: tried harder, prayed harder, or if you were a “better” person. Nor if you ate better, loved harder, exercised more, did x, y, z to the nth degree or any other way your mind tries to fill-in-the-blank. You could not have prevented this even if you could have predicted the future like no one can.

Even if you did nothing more, you are already the best mom there is because you would have done absolutely anything to keep your child alive. To breathe your last breath to save theirs. To choose the pain all over again just to spend one more minute with them. That, is the ultimate kind of love. You are the ultimate kind of mother.

So wash your hands of any naysayers, backstabbers, or anyone who sprinted in the other direction when you needed them the most. Wash your hands of the people who may have falsely judged you, ostracized you, or stigmatized you because of what happened to you. Wash your hands of anyone who has made you feel less than by questioning everything you did or didn’t do. Those whose words or looks have implied that this was somehow your fault.

This was not your fault. This will never be your fault, no matter how many different ways someone tries to tell you it is.

And especially if that someone happens to be you. Sometimes it’s not what others are saying that keeps us shackled in shame. Sometimes we adopt others’ misguided opinions and assumptions about our situation as our own. Sometimes it’s our own inner voice that shoves us into the darkest corner of despair, like an abuser, telling us over and over and over again that we failed as mothers. That if only this and what if that, it would never have happened. That you woulda, shoulda done this or that so your child would not have died. That is a lie of the sickest kind. Do not believe it, not even for a second. Do not let it sink into your bones. Do not let it smother that beautiful, beautiful light of yours.

Instead, breathe in this truth with every part of yourself: You are the best damn mother in the entire world.

The kind of mother who people write books about. The kind who inspires the world.

No one else could do what you do. No one else could ever be your child’s mother as well as you can, as well as you are. No one else could let your child’s love and light shine through them the way you do. No one else could mother their dead child as well as you do. No one else could carry this unrelenting burden as courageously. It is the heaviest, most torturous burden there is.

You have within you a sacred strength. You are the mother of all mothers. There is no one, no one, no one that could ever, ever replace you. No one. You were chosen to be their mother. Yes– chosen. And no one could parent them better in life or in death than you do.

So breathe mama, keep breathing. Believe mama, keep believing. Fight mama, keep fighting, for this truth to uproot the lies in your heart— you didn’t fail. You are not a failure. Not even a little.

For whatever it’s worth, I see you. I hear your guttural sobs. I feel your ache deep inside my bones. And it doesn’t make me uncomfortable to put my fingers as a makeshift band-aid over the gaping hole in your heart until the scabs come, when and if they do.

It takes invincible strength to mother a child you can no longer hold, see, touch or hear. You are a superhero mama. I see you fall down and get up, fall down and get up, over and over again. I notice the grit and guts it takes to pry yourself out of bed every single day and force your bloodied feet to stand up and keep walking. I see you walking this path of life you’ve been given where every breath and step apart from your child is a physical, emotional and spiritual battleground— a fight for your own survival— a fight to quiet the insidious lies.

But the truth is– you haven’t failed at all. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.

You are the mother of all mothers.

Truly the most inspiring, courageous, loving mother there is– a warrior mama through and through.

For even in their death you lovingly mother them still.

I believe a mothers heart stays a mothers heart, and I'll love and mother my babies always whether they with me or watching from above, getting bigger and moving out, or staying with me... but in my heart I will always be their mother, in each situation different and yet so alike cause I'll always love them more than they'll ever know... It's one of heavens most beautiful gifts the day you become a mother, and just because they're not in your arms, it doesn't make you any less if a mother, but I would like to believe maybe just a little more...........



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