Friday, January 20, 2012

Carrying him...

When Boe died, my faith was shaken to the core. I felt so very betrayed and confused. How could God, who is supposed to love me unconditionally, do this to me? How could he bless me with 3 little lives to nurture and then inexplicably, for no reason, take one of them from me? Why did this happen? What did I do to deserve this?

Over the last 21 months I have done a lot of "work". I have read, I have researched, I have found other women who have lost children, I have "support grouped", I have walked in my Baby Boe's name, I have visited my boy at the cemetery and placed flowers at his grave, I have grieved in silence and out loud. As I have done all of these things, my relationship with God has shifted. There have been times when I have been perfectly at peace with his decision to take Boe, and there have been days when I have seethed with anger and resentment to the point that to be around me has, no doubt, been very unpleasant and toxic.

I can honestly say that, as I write this, I am in a place of peace these days. I miss Boe everyday, and I do not believe that will ever change, nor do I want it to. I know there will be times when I can speak of him and smile and times that just hearing his name will reduce me to tears, and I am OK with that.

I am blessed with all the children that I have, living and dead. Each of them have touched my heart and shaped who I am as a woman in ways that I cannot explain. This is kind of how I see it; I am honored that God chose me to carry one of his heavenly angels. I am so grateful he gave me the 229 days with Boe that I had. If he had given Boe his wings any sooner, Adler and Cameron may not have survived, and that is just too dark and painful a thought to bear.

So, thank you, God. Thank you for letting me carry one of your precious little guardians. Thank you for letting me carry him just long enough to be able to keep his earthly brothers here. Many people only dream of angels, but I held one in my arms. Thank you.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Sudden Impact

Last week's episode of Grey's Anatomy followed the fall out of a horrific car wreck in which 2 of Seattle Grace's doctors had been involved. Obviously, the mention of a sudden impact was literal, but the story also stressed the need to recognize those sudden impacts which are figurative as well.

To close the episode, the narrator, Meredith, says that sudden impacts happen when we least expect them. We are warned that there is no way to prepare or brace for them. When they occur, our life is changed in an instant and we are never the same.

My sudden impact occurred on April 22, 2010. Many victims of sudden impacts do not remember the moments leading up to the crash or the actual crash itself. It is too traumatic, their minds block out what is too horrific to handle to protect their psyche. I am not so fortunate.

I remember everything about that moment. I remember joking with the ultrasound technician about the fact that I was "still" pregnant (I was 32 weeks and 5 days, my doctor wanted me to make it to 34 weeks) just before I hopped up on the table for her to perform the sonogram. I remember watching her face change as she turned to me and my husband and said with disbelief, "I am so sorry, but Baby B's heart has stopped beating." I remember it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room as she excused herself to retrieve the doctor, leaving Adam and me to try and process what she had just told us.

Impacts often leave debris and wreckage in their wake. Those who survive them or arrive to assist must wade through all this to try and make sense of what happened and assist those in need. The impact that I experienced has certainly left its share of debris and wreckage. I know, without a doubt, that there is (and always will be) a piece of me in that exam room. The Kirsten that I used to be resides there, and I shall never be "That Girl" again.

Over the last 21 months I have laughed, cried, screamed, raged, begged, pleaded, reasoned, etc... all in the name of trying to piece together the events that unfolded on that day. I know that no amount of this will bring my Boe back, he is gone. I do, however, feel that each time I laugh or cry, scream or rage in Boe's name, I take a little step closer to "That Girl".

Like Meredith said, after a sudden impact we are never the same. My hope is that maybe, just maybe, I can continue to sift through the wreckage to find my way back to someone pretty damn close to "That Girl" I left behind. She was pretty cool and I miss her. I want her back.