Thursday, June 27, 2013

I just don't know......

Often, I feel like I am quietly spiraling out of control.  I haven't talked about things after losing Finleigh the way that I did after I lost Bridger.  I feel like I am watching my life on TV.  Even though I experience it first hand, I feel removed from it.  Nothing feels real.  This is difficult to explain because I still feel tired or stressed or angry, but I don't feel like losing my babies really happened.  It feels like it was just a movie that I watched.

After losing Bridger, I felt the pain so severely that I really questioned whether I would be able to continue on.  This feeling even carried on throughout my pregnancy with Finleigh.  And then she was born.  It was such a mix of Heaven and Hell all in one.  Again, it was the most amazing feeling holding my baby in my arms, feeding her, lying in my bed with her in my arms.  But then my fear crept it... Little things that still terrorize my mind like when she would breathe so fast and I would think back to how fast Bridger would breath and what that meant.  I carried a fear that she too would have a horrific death as Bridger did.  Even though we weren't in the hospital, I knew that her death wouldn't be guaranteed to be peaceful.  Each time that she slept longer than usual or ate less than the time before I thought that she was starting to die.  And then she would wake or eat or regain her pink color and again I was in Heaven knowing that I had a few moments more with her.  Then Easter Sunday came... Actually, it was the night before when her change began.  She started sleeping longer and eating less.

On Easter, she slept almost the entire day.  I held her in my arms the entire day and night other than when Danny wanted to hold her.  I held her and rocked her and cried.  This time I knew she wouldn't recover.  I knew that she would continue to sleep more and more and then soon not wake at all.  On Monday, we let all of our parents come and hold her one more time and say goodbye.

Monday night she struggled as her body prepared to shut down, she began to have a more difficult time breathing and began to experience terminal agitation.  When this happens, it is difficult to console them without medication.  I wanted so badly to be able to comfort her and I tried.  She and I were up most of the night as I tried everything I could.  As we went through the night, it reminded me so much of how Bridger would feel and act each time his body began to tire.  Only with Bridger as this happened, we took a ride in an ambulance up to PCMC.  There, they would intubate him and do everything they could to keep him from dying.  He would be paralyzed and sedated for days until his body had time to recover and then, finally I would see him open his eyes again and then I would be able to hold him again.  We did this dance often together until one day while in Texas, they could not stop him from dying.  That time, he did not recover.  He did not open his eyes again.  And though I was able to hold him, his body was lifeless in my arms.

As Finleigh continued on through Tuesday, I knew that I would not see her open her eyes again and that soon, I would hold her lifeless body in my arms.  As the afternoon came, she became unresponsive.  I held her in my arms and though I didn't want her to go, I prayed for God to take her.  I did not want her to stay and struggle just for me.  I was holding her next to my heart and Danny came to sit next to us and she took her last breath.

Since that day I have cried a handful of times and this makes me angry.  The pain after losing Bridger felt unbearable, but that was okay because I would endure any kind of pain for him and I would do the same for her.  Numbness is almost more difficult for me at this point.  I know that my feeling of numbness is easier for those around me to handle, but for me it is not.  I have buried both of my babies!  People ask me how I can even get out of bed in the mornings and I really don't know.  Is it because I am still numb?  Will I stay numb until I rejoin them in Heaven?  Is this because subconsciously my mind knows that I cannot handle more than I am currently dealing with?  Will the flood gates open and overtake me?  I don't know....

But for some reason, I do get out of bed each day.  I take care of other dying people and their grieving families each day.  And still, I don't cry.  I do my job, I comfort and counsel and support them through this difficult time in their lives.  Though I feel badly for their loss, I secretly envy my patients.  They  get to go where I so badly wish I could be, Heaven.

My heart knows that God still wants me here for a reason.  But my mind is impatient and has a way of making me feel crazy while I wait.  But I wait....

But today, I cry.  Today, I feel the pain.  I desperately miss holding my sweet babies in my arms.  I miss Bridger playing with the hair on the back of my head.  I miss holding Finleigh to my heart.  I miss their soft skin.  I miss dressing them and changing their diapers.  I miss feeding them, whether by bottle or feeding tube.  I miss that intense feeling of protecting and providing for their every want and need.  I miss them.

My sweet Bridger and Finleigh, mommy misses you so much.  I love you both!

6 comments:

cici said...

If you only knew the depth of their love and how much they miss you. They were Angels of a Higher Power and you were chosen as
their Mother here on Earth.
You are more special than you will ever know and cherished forever by two perfect Angels.
xo

Anonymous said...

That is amazing that you help families every day and you also have a broken heart. Sending prayers and love your way.

Anonymous said...

You are truly amazing. I can't imagine the pain you must be going through. Even though I don't know you, I think about you often and send a prayer your way. Hang in there and know that your babies are probably playing together in heaven, keeping a watchful eye on their parents.

Petersen Palace said...

Thinking of you always. Cry it out. Cry a lot. Sending love. <3

Tracy said...

What powerful words. Your babies love and miss you too. You are so strong to do what you do and it;s okay to cry and miss them. Please know we are praying for you and wish this pain will go away.

Em said...

I was talking today and had someone ask me how I got through the time of losing Lilly and Ryker. The week before Ryker passed, we went to a stake conference, and had a newly called apostle give our stake an apostolic blessing, that we would be blessed with a miracle in our lives, if we did everything we could. I remember someone asking me if I felt bitter after Ryker passed, that we were not given our miracle. I think that the miracle we were given was not only the time of getting to know Ryker, but I think the real blessing was that of acceptance. Does not mean it did/does not hurt, but I am just amazed I was even able to get out of bed, nearly every day, that I was able to start the adoption process a year later, as I do not know how or really remember much from that time. Grief is such a strange roller coaster, and it is just so different for each person. I think about you and your precious angels often. I wish I could hug all the hurt away, but grief also makes us who we are. I look forward and long for the day I am reunited with my precious angels. (((Hugs)))

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