Mean People suck

I am a stay at home mom and I help my husband put on a big motorcycle event every May and an even bigger one every September. He promotes, organizes, markets and does everything to put this event on and I help in a very limited capacity--mostly at the time of the event and the few weeks prior. My vent today, at this particular moment, is that I just don't get people. Since becoming a stay-at-home mom, I have really lived in la-la land and I wish I could do that during these few weeks that I help my husband...but I can't. People are people and I just don't get how it pays to be nasty. I try to teach my girls how to deal with people, how kids can be mean, but if you are nice, they might not be. I tell them, give people (other kids) one chance to be nice, maybe 2 chances if you can stand it but after that, don't let them be mean to you....and walk away. Remove yourself from the situation. Well, this is a lifelong lesson. People DON'T change. And I'd like to rephrase that...some people NEVER GROW UP. How does it pay to be mean? I realize in the business world, you might have to. But as a consumer, unless your life or health is at stake, how does it pay to be mean?
If I don't understand something, anything, I have always tried to simplify. Take away the cloudiness, make it clearer. And since I lost Chase, I really live my life this way. But i just don't get it.
A few minutes ago I had a group of people walk in to my counter and want to come in to our event. My station is not for that; you have to go to another station to pay and enter. They were put off. Completely. Put. Off. It is a beautiful sun-shiny day, the first we have had in about 6 days, and they had to leave my station, walk outside around the building to the front to pay. All six of them made it a point to tell me how ridiculous it was they had come to my station and had to go somewhere else to get into the event. Two of them told me how complety awful this thing was organized and that we run this event terribly and we should have signs up telling them where to go.
Hmph. I was speechless. I just smiled at them as they left my station muttering disgust.
Nevermind the THOUSANDS of people that have been coming to our event all week who SAW our signs and knew EXACTLY where to go to pay. Out of probably 1000 people who had come to my station this week, they were the ONLY people to tell me this.
Why did he say that to me? Why did he feel like he needed to make me feel awful? I don't get it? Was it so awful to walk about 50 steps outside in the ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS sunshine to go where he was supposed to? I just don't get people.
Like I said, I know I live in la-la land when I hope and wish that people were nice. I just would never even THINK of saying something to someone like that....especially with the specific intent to try to hurt them or make them feel bad. Again...I just. Don't. Get it.
This isn't a perfect world, we don't run a perfect event, we can't control the weather, so yes, there were other complaints and other people that yelled at me or lied to me or challenged me about something this week. But these people, I just didn't know what to say to them. "Look here, read this SIGN." "Ten THOUSAND people came in before you and found where THEY needed to go." or "You are a fricking idiot and I'm not going to apologize for that." But I said nothing. I smiled and they walked away. And I thought of my baby boy. Chase wouldn't want his momma to be upset about this. And I closed my eyes and gave him a big squeeze. Just what I needed. Almost.

My Song for Chase

I made a new playlist when I found this song. I could literally curl up in a ball somewhere and listen to it over and over again all day long. I read on Sally's blog that Annie Lennox had given birth to a stillborn so I googled it to find out more about it. Patric really likes the Eurythmics and I wanted to listen to her music again with the new ears that I have. Every part of me has changed since I lost Chase...especially what I hear when I listen to the same songs I have listened to for years. Now they seemed to have a whole new meaning.

Love Song For A Vampire
Come into these arms again and lay your body down

The rhythm of this trembling heart is beating like a drum

It beats for you it bleeds for you it knows not how it sounds

For it is the drum of drums it is the song of songs
Once I had the rarest rose that ever deemed to bloom

Cruel winter chilled the bud and stole my flower too soon

Oh loneliness Oh hopelessness

to search the ends of time

For there is in all the world no greater love than mine.

Love o love o .... still falls the rain

Love o love o .... still falls the night

Love o love o .... damned forever

Let me be the only one to keep you from the cold

Now the floor of heaven is laid the stars are bright as gold

They shine for you they shine for you they burn for all to see

Come into these arms again and set this spirit free

The Things People Say...

I think all of us who have bean dealt the tragedy of losing a child have experienced awkward moments or things that you can't believe people say. Having said that, we know that no one really knows what to say at a time like this. No one. However, I also don't know how to react to some of the things people say. The truth is, though, sometimes there are no words. And sometimes things are better left unsaid. And that doesn't mean to fill the silence with nonsense, but just that silence is golden. I don't know about other moms who have lost babies, but there are times I don't want to talk at all. If I can't talk about Chase, I don't want to talk. And most people don't feel comfortable talking about dead babies. I don't want to talk about other people, things, or what is going on. I don't want to talk about anything. There are times I do want to talk. And I babble. Or I think out loud. But because of my personality, I have tended to withdraw from society. I turn down offers to get together with large groups. Small groups are okay. And I have to feel comfortable or I won't go or worse yet, up and leave. But I wanted to share a few things that people, not knowing what to say, or thinking they have words to help, have said to me. Words that I ignore, or act like they were never said to protect them from feeling bad. And why? I'm the one who is hurt. Why must I feel the need to protect others. Protecting others is what got me in this awful nightmare. That's the way I feel, anyway. Those words though meant to be of comfort, are sometimes words that make me disappear to my own little corner of the world, grab my Chase blanket and cry....

"So how are you doing?" I don't know why, but just a simple & typical, "How are you?" would be a lot less likely to invoke tears.

"How does it feel to have some free time to yourself?" Are you kidding? Think about it, please, before you say this to a baby loss mama.

"What is your mom going to do, no one to babysit now that the kids are all in school?" My mom comes to take care of the kids for a week every year during our annual event we put on. This year, she was going to get to take care of a 4-month-old baby, feed, bathe, take care of and just oogle over for a whole week. Not so.

"Is your tummy leftover from the baby or are you pregnant again?" I know. You can pick your chin up off the floor now.

"Remember, don't tell anyone you were here." This doesn't belong here but it's one that haunts me...it's what my doctor said to me after he attempted to "secretly" break my water at 38 weeks; instead, however, I bled like an animal and 13 hours later he finally did a stat c-section to a lifeless baby that took 6 minutes of resuscitation to breathe on his own. This is why I have not yet written "Our Story" for my blog. My nightmare is very traumatic.

"Oh yes you did. Believe me, you felt it." Another one--what my doctor said after I awoke from surgery when I told him that I didn't really feel much pain during surgery, even though I did not have any anesthesia. "Your memory will eventually come back," he told me. Another haunting bit of information I could have done without.

Here is one that I got 3 different times when I was about a month after losing Chase from people who were merely acquaintances and certainly did not know of our tragedy. "Congratulations!" with a smile and pointing to my post-baby bump. Oh, how I wanted to be congratulated...but for the birth of my son, not because I still looked pregnant. Another one, "so when are you due?" Ouch.

I think I'm going to keep this list going. The things people say are just unbelievable sometimes. It's usually because they just haven't thought about how I might take it. But maybe it's because I just know so much more than I ever needed to in my lifetime.

Conversations with a heavy heart

Emma told me about a conversation she had on the bus ride home yesterday with the girl next to her. She said she told the little girl she liked her earings and the little girl said, "thanks." Then she started to talk to Emma and told her that her two brothers are sometimes just rotten to her and she can't stand it. Emma told the little girl that she's lucky because it's really harder to live without them and told her she lost one of her brothers. The little girl thought about it, told Emma she was sorry for her and said Emma was right.

I had a conversation tonight that I am not near as proud of, in fact I'm ashamed. I was talking to a mom I don't even know very well about our kids and their activities and I don't even remember how the conversation went in this direction but all I remember saying, and it keeps echoing in my mind over and over again, is "....we lost one in April." She acknowledged that she was aware of this and offered sympathy. I can't believe how emotionless I spoke. I can't believe how those words slipped out and I can't believe I was talking about my son. I must have sounded like a heartless, horrible mother. I am so completely ashamed of myself. It was like I knew I was going to say it and thought it would be the most "tactful" way to say it, but after I said it, I felt like it sounded like I was talking about a fricking dog. I hate myself for it. I can't believe I said that. I don't really care about the other mom, or how I sounded to her. I don't know her that well and I just don't care. But I feel so utterly rotten for having said something so careless about my son. He was here. He was real. He was our miracle...for the 4 days of his short life. And I feel like I just dismissed them. In one short brief, heartless sentence. And I can't take it back. Because there's no one here to take it back from. He's gone. And I'll never get him back. I'm sorry sweet Chase. I love you baby boy and I'm so sorry you're gone. I'm so, so sorry. I love you.

Home Alone

Reese went to pre-school yesterday. A friend asks me, "How does it feel to have some time to yourself at home--just to not have any kids around?" How does it feel? Devastating. That's how it feels. It reminds me of my broken heart, the emptiness, what is missing in my life. Right now I'm busy with work. I'm doing stuff that has to be done. But in a couple weeks I won't. I might need Reese...more than he needs me.

I've had a rough few days. It's probably hormonal...PMS, whatever. That's not what it IS, but that is what is probably emphasizing my emotions right now. I can't even explain my emotions though. I walked out of church Sunday. I started crying and couldn't stop. All I could see was Chase's "box", as the kids call it, with his baby blankets and flowers hung over it. I just had to leave. I got home, cried to Patric some more and held Reese so tight. I am so lucky to have him. I can't imagine surviving without those hugs.

Yesterday when we took Reese to school, he got scared. He started crying and couldn't stop (I know how you feel, buddy). In a room with just me, him and dad, he just fell into my chest and when we asked what was the matter, he said crying, "I'm just so scared." It was all I could do not to open the flood gates myself. He asked me to stay with him and I told him I would. I promised him over and over I would stay with him until he said it was okay for me to go. He said he didn't want me to go. I promised him with my entire being that I wouldn't leave him without talking to him first and he didn't have to stay if he didn't want to. I had done that with the girls, snuck out of the preschool or left them crying, knowing they would have fun once they got into their activities. But not this time.

I promised Chase so many things in the NICU that I can't live up to. I don't have the opportunity to keep those promises. I will NOT ever again promise my kids something that I can't keep. There was no way I was going to walk out of Reese's pre-school yesterday without him knowing I was leaving, IF he was okay with that. As expected, he warmed up after circle time and gave me the thumbs up. I told him I was going to leave and he was okay with it. All I could think of was Chase...and promises....and how I could not lie to Reese like it felt I had to Chase.

I picked him up just a short while later (the time flew for me, being so busy) and I couldn't wait to have him in my arms. I have constant reminders of the moment Chase died and when I drop Reese off, one of them is standing right there, dropping of or picking up their child. Seeing Reese, though, feeling him, touching, him, hearing him, erases it all, for a moment.