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.

A quote worth reading

My baby sister (she's not a baby anymore, trust me) sent me an email with a quote in it that I couldn't post to my blog quick enough. I have written about (here) and certainly read a lot about the friendships that quickly or eventually end of those of us who have suffered the losses we have. And what ends the friendships that we had before our losses are the changes that we have gone through and how completely different we become once we begin this journey and the fact that our "old" friends just don't get it, let alone, know how to act around us. When I read this quote, I said, "exACTly" to myself. Because it's those who want and try to fix it for us, or who want so badly to have us go on with our lives and move past the tragedy, who end up leaving us. Let me know what you think:

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares."
~Henri Nouwen

For what he is

I had a mother of all roller coaster days today. I had lunch with some great ladies and just by chance the conversation turned to my pictures of Chase. I happened to mention as we headed out the door to our cars that the nurse who was in the operating room for my surgery had taken some pictures of Chase soon after he was born (because our camera was no where to be found) and had supposedly emailed them Patric but we had never seen them. And her phone had gotten stolen by the time I asked for them so apparently there were some phantom pictures of Chase out in cyber space that no one has ever seen that I will never get. My friend immediately speaks up and says, "I think we have them." I have been thinking/searching for these pictures since April to no avail. It's an ever longer story how she ended up with them so just know that I was hit with one of those tidal waves of grief. I was so hopeful that she might have them, but prepared that she wouldn't. I wanted to see them so badly. The earliest images of my newborn son, captured in time. Before I had even got home, she had already texted me that she sent them to my email address. I don't know why, but as I drove home, I felt like I was going to get to see my baby for the first time again. That's what it felt like. But I knew that I didn't really have him. But it was still a sense of anticipation like I was about to get something that I wanted for a real long time, but I would never get what I really wanted.

So all those emotions come back to me. How perfect he looked. How chubby his legs were. My, his nose looks big! How could he have died? He looks too healthy. How could this have happened? Anger rages within the depths of every cell in my body. Pain fills my heart, my head, my gut. He just needed his mama to hold him, it feels like. It hurts so incredibly bad. This wave is way over my head. I'd been keeping my head above the water up until this point.

I struggle with many things. As time keeps on, there's a part of him that feels like is slipping away. Because I know he is no longer a newborn; now he is 8 months old. And I don't know what that looks like on Chase. In these pictures I know he was going to have his own look. I can't imagine what he would look like at 8 months. I can only see him as he looked days old. And I feel like this is jading me. I don't know what I am supposed to think of him like? I read many different ways people imagine a lost child. And I feel that everyone has their own opinion and own belief. But the problem is, I don't know what I believe. And I feel like it is getting in the way. I can't think of my baby the way I want to because I don't have an image. Or the only image I have is frozen in time the day after he was born and is that what he is looks like in heaven? I had read in a book that he will look age appropriate and I will recognize him when I see him in heaven so that was what I was trying to do....imagine him growing up. But I can't. I don't have a picture in my head of that because I never saw it with my eyes to transfer it to my brain. I need something tangible. Or I need to freeze him in time.

Moreso, I need to think of him for what he is. Not what he is not. He is my baby boy, perfect in every way, with a head full of hair, perfect nose, chubby legs and 10 perfect fingers and toes. And he lived with us for three days. He loved us and we loved him, more than anything in this world. He knows that and so do we. He taught us things that we never knew. And we taught him what a family can be and is. That is what Chase is to me. And always will be. No more struggling to conjure up an image of what he must look like to all those who are up there in heaven with him. No more struggling to grasp how he would look as an 8-month-old baby if he were here with me. I have my photos to remember him by and that is how it will remain for me. Frozen in time.

Protocol????

Okay, I'm sort of in a quandry. It's really not a quandry because being faced with what we have been faced with, the question of whether or not to send out Christmas cards is nothing I'm going to waste much energy over. There are much more important things.....you know what I mean.

The question of whether or not to send Christmas cards to our traditional list weighs heavily on 2 things: a) who is on that list and b) what is on the card. I made a card on Snapfish that I thought looked really neat. But I made the card because of where I am at in my grieving. I am to a point where I want people to know about my Chase, people that I have not talked to, some for years, but I keep in touch with once a year through an exchange of holiday photos or cards. Having said that, I don't know how much I want to share and, let's face it, I don't really know that I want to or that I should or that I have anything to celebrate through a Christmas card greeting. Of course I have a lot to celebrate. But how can you celebrate when you are greiving? And sending out a Christmas card is kind of like celebrating the past year, right?

The card has a family snapshot taken earlier today at church, a couple snapshots that represent Chase and one of the kids by Chase's tree. I chose each snapshot for a specific reason, but almost no one receiving the card would be aware of what they symbolize. The card also has a letter on the back that I wrote. It is a generic note about our year, including the birth and loss of Chase and how it has affected us. In my opinion, it is an update with a slight philosophical twist to it. When I finished it, it was exactly what I wanted it to look like and say, but I really didn't know if I wanted to actually send it. I don't know if this makes any sense....

So I showed Patric, because of course, I wasn't going to send anything like this out without consulting him and making sure that I was not doing something he was not comfortable with. His thoughts were much the same as mine, as mentioned above. (I had been working this up in my mind for a few weeks now,while he had just had this placed in his lap.) His question was, probably for the general public, who wants to get a Christmas card that is all about our child who died? And why should or would I explain my child, such an intimate/personal experience, to people we never see? (most of our christmas card list is old, out of town friends and distant family) I totally agree. And what's more, I'm not sure how I'll feel about this when I wake up in the morning. But I wanted to blog about this in hopes that I would get some comments from those who are walking my path....in my shoes. How do you feel about sending Christmas cards? Are you sending them out and if so, are you saying anything about your loss?

After talking to Patric, I realized I could just send a card with just our family snapshot. There is a flower arrangment with an ornament for Chase so, for me, Chase is in the photo. It also would have Chase's name on the card, of course. But I'm not sure if the reason I wanted to send Christmas cards out was to send the letter, too, or not. Maybe it was just healing for me, making the card and I don't need to go any further. And I feel a little bit weird sending out Christmas cards with us wearing smiles when my baby died just 7 months ago. But that is what I mean about where I am at in my grieving. I'm want to send a card, but I don't. I don't think I want to just send a family photo card, though, I think it's all or nothing.

As we well know, there is no rule book on what to do, no etticate and definitely no 'standard protocol' to follow. In cases like these, it's best to turn to those who have been there. So please, any ideas/comments/feelings relating to this hopefully will help me a little.

Giveaway Winner

The winner of the necklace and earings set is Lareina and Mrs. A. is going to get my runner up necklace (which you will love!). Lareina, I don't know how to get a hold of you so please leave me an email with your information so I can get it shipped out. Thank you to everyone who left comments. It was really neat to read about the things/people that inspired you. I connected with some bloggers I had not connected with yet and of course that is always really cool. Thanks to Tina for starting this Giveaway project. It was done for all the right reasons and some amazing things are coming out of it! Now go over to her site and see whose turn it is today.