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Best Christmas Present Ever!

Wow--I wanted to blog about this because I have been waiting so long for this to happen. And when it would, I wanted it written down. Unfortunately, like most dreams, I don't have much to write about because I don't remember much of it....except what was most important.

Chase came to me last night. I remember having the dream and then waking up right afterwards and thinking what had just happened. I had such an incredibly warm feeling about the dream and knew it was Chase. I had dreamt about him before, but only his casket or his corpse---nothing that gave me warmth and happiness. But last night, I saw him. Like I said, I don't remember much about the dream but I remember holding him above my head looking up at him and he was just smiling away. His smile was so intriging to me in the dream, I don't know why. How sweet it was, though. I know there was more to the dream because when I woke up afterwards, I remember thinking about it and that it finally came. But then I went back to sleep and didn't think about it again until this morning when I was at the coffee shop with Karly.

We saw a baby come in and I told Karly that the baby was probably Chase's age--which was confirmed after I asked the dad. The baby was born just a couple weeks after Chase actually. So we talked about the baby and Karly asked me if that mom loved that baby as much as she should. Interesting question from a 7-year-old I thought. I asked her why and she said because the baby was crying in the car seat and the mom didn't take him out. I told her I thought the mom looked like a very good mom and sometimes babies cry but that is part of teaching them about patience--even when they are little babies. I laughed and told her that I don't think Chase would have cried very much because while I would have been too busy to pick him up for a moment, either she or Emma would have stepped in and picked him up until I could tend to his needs. I smiled at that thought but Karly cried. I held her hand and she told me how bad she wanted 2 things, well 3 things, she said. "I want to be able to fly (1), and (2) Chase to come back alive and (3), if Chase can't come back alive, I want another baby.

Ditto. All of that. Ditto for me, too, Karly Jo.

Thank you for the visit, sweet boy. You snuck in on me because I thought it would be a long time before I would see you. I love you so much, baby boy. I love you so so much.

The Struggle, Part II of ???

I can't believe Christmas is over. Well, the holiday is not over for us, but I just can't believe that this is the end of December. The year seemed to fly which is so weird because so often I don't know if I can make it through the day, or the minute or the second. The pain I felt going to bed on Christmas eve and then on Christmas morning was excruciating. As I lay in bed that night trying to fall asleep, I missed our baby boy so much. I had that dull ache, a nauseating feeling, deep in the pit of my stomach that was emotional and physical all at once. Just sick that he is not here with us. At eight months old, and with 3 older siblings, he would have so much fun watching and learning what to do on this special holiday. We would have had so much fun watching and learning what he could do. I cried myself to sleep eventually that night and woke up in a hurry as the other three yelled at us from their rooms. I rushed around to get the final preparations complete and then watched as they tore open gifts, handed out gifts and played with their new toys. Then I sat down by Chase's tree and read the kids' letters to him, read Karly's present she made for him and just cried. I was so confused. I looked at the three kids and Patric and thought about how happy I was to have them and be a part of their lives and how much joy they give me every day. But then I looked down in my lap at his pictures and could not stop crying because our little boy was not here and he really should be. Of course, it was that "inside", quiet-as-you-can-cry, but the tears were unstoppable. Karly gave me a hug and a smile and I smiled back at her and loved her right back. And I wiped my tears and put on my happy face, but kept crying on the inside.

I was told our first Christmas without him would be the hardest. But I had no idea. I did not expect the huge wave that would hit me. And I didn't allow myself to think that Patric would be having an equally painful time, in his own way, and not the same as mine. The question I don't have the answer to is where do you meet when you no longer grieve in the same way as your spouse, but you are both still in so much pain? After finally realizing this, I don't know how to fix it. How do I comfort him on his journey when I am on the same journey but in a different vehicle? I can't quite reach him the same way as when we were both riding side by side and he can no longer do the same for me, either. I know we are there for each other, but our needs are different now. I don't know how to solve this one, but I think that understanding that this is happening is a start. I can't explain this very well, but I'm just trying to say that I love my husband more than anything. And I know that he is going through the worst tragedy that anyone ever has to go through. There are times that I may be able to comfort him and there are times that I may not know what to do. The compounding factor of this is that I, too, am going through the exact same worst tragedy ever, but dealing/thinking/hurting differently because I am me and he is him. I am so sorry, Patric, for being so caught up in my sorrow and guilt and sadness, that I have somehow looked past yours. I should be the rock for you that you are for me. You know me, and you love me for who I am and I am the luckiest girl in the world for that. Just know that you mean the world to me and I am trying. Trying to cope, trying to live, trying to love all my kids with all my heart the best that I know how. And, with every breath, I love you.

***

Christmas Tradition

I'm not the best at traditions with our family. Not like I remember growing up when we did the same thing every year for the holidays. I guess you could look at it that I'm keeping every year new and exciting. Nah, I'm just slack at keeping up with traditions. We don't go around looking at lights every year. This year we didn't attend any of the town's annual Christmas events. There are very specific reasons for not attending some of them and the others, I guess it wasn't important enough to me this year or we would have participated. That and things are different. Holiday spirit is so extremely difficult when you are missing someone...and missing a part of you.

One thing I guess we always DO do is cut out cookies and decorate them. I can be proud of doing that every year that the kids can remember so far. As I was getting ready tonight to do this, I remembered very vividly doing this last year. I felt sooo old because I was hugely pregnant. And tired. My feet ached by the time we were through. Cleaning up was a bear. But Chase was there. I know he was part of that. As I got things ready tonight and the kids were so excited to start, I couldn't help but get sad. Listening to them, and all their commotion, I missed Chase so badly. He should have been in the middle of this mess, sitting in his high chair, eating cookie dough for the first time.

But the kids did a great job and had a lot of fun doing it. It's fun to watch them work on each individual masterpiece and put their flare into it. I am so lucky to have them. I can't believe how lucky I am. They are awesome. Here are a couple pictures....I got to decorate a few, even, in between making more frosting, coloring it and making sure the mess didn't get too out of control. Again, I'm exhausted. But in a very different way. Wishing things were different.

Wishing you all sweet dreams and many Christmas blessings,

Defying the odds

All my life the phrase "defying the odds" meant that you strived for something that not many people were able to achieve or that no one expected you to do/obtain/achieve the things you did. Statistics. It's about those who did and those who didn't and the likelihood of what would or wouldn't happen. To defy the odds was an honor, or a blessing, and was to be regarded as such.

I don't feel the same way anymore. I feel like we defied the odds when we lost Chase. That wasn't what was supposed to happen. So now I am scared. I don't want to mess with any statistics anymore. Because being 1 in 100 is not amazing. It is scary. It might be a blessing, but it could also be tragic. This borders paranoia, which is no way anyone wants to live their life. Some would call it fear. Some might call it caution. Some might just say it's speaking from experience. For me, it definitely makes me think about everything I do, every decision I make. Who it will affect and how it will affect them/us? I feel mortal, indeed. I feel that what happens happens and it's how we deal with it that makes us who we are. And no, I don't want to sit around and worry about the statistics, because I can't change them or put them to my advantage all the time. So I will make my decisions and deal with whatever happens. Whatever it may be.