I was driving home from school and I suddenly felt a deep urgency to write. it was an urgency i haven't felt in quite some time. i suddenly felt drawn back to this very sacred very special spot that i call my own. a spot that i felt at one point was the only way i could reconnect with my daughter. in this need to be back to writing i began to dissect things. an after affect of going through therapy these last couple months. i have begun so much self reflection, sometimes wanted sometimes not but always needed. and so i started to think why it was i never have felt this urgency in so long.
when i began this blog it was with intentions to share the story of my daughter. it was to share her life, her death and what she meant to me and my world. it was a way to save her memory. i didn't know how long it would last, how long my memories would last. i was and still am so deathly afraid of forgetting things about her that i wanted to document as much as i could. i wanted 'followers' people to share in my despair, my desperation for meaning. i wanted others to hurt and cry with me, to somehow feel my pain. it only seemed fair right? if i was in such a deep and dark pit, lonely and with a gaping hole in my heart and empty arms.. then the world should feel the same. right? and so i started writing. never knowing what this place would bring or do for me in my life. i just wrote. and each day, my 'following' would grow. each day i would recieve comments and love and appreciation. lives that i had touched. lives savanna had touched. and in return i was inspired i was moving into a positive direction. and then... then i got sucked in, and it started to become only about that. 'you should write a book' 'you have such a way with words' all wonderful loving comments from so many of you. these things kept me going. but then, as i said before, it started to become about that. each day as my following grew i would get more and more eager to write something. maybe what i have to say will help someone? will touch someone's life? maybe it will make them appreciate their children more? and so i began to write for my following, i began to think more about what to say rather then just saying it.
it started to feel like a job. a situation i only created in my own mind. none of you being the cause of this false urgency i had templated in my mind. and so today as i drove home i began to think back to why i REALLY started this blog. was it really to get a following of people to share in my pain? was it really a means to tell Savanna's story? or was i just looking for sympathy, for a pity party without seeing the sad eyes. instead i would read the sad comments. and then as i sat driving down the main road immensed in my own self reflection it came to me.
i started this blog as a girl. a girl who at one time had it all. i was a girl born in california raised in kansas city/phoenix. i was girl who once though i would want to grow up get married and have children but never was i the girl who felt deserving of any it. i always felt like that was the life for someone else, someone who earned that happiness. and then one day i became the girl i always and only ever dreamed of. i met a man. a wonderful, loving, loyal, honest man. and he asked me to marry him. ME! of all the people, of all the women of all the girls.. me. i was his special someone. and so i thought.. well perhaps my fairytale could come true.. perhaps i was somehow deserving. in all my faults, in all my trials, in all my sin, in all my screwups, i was somehow worthy of this one man vowing to devote his life and love to me.
and then, we wanted a family. our own little family. could it be.. me? this girl? first month - no baby. second month - no baby... sixth month - no baby.. maybe i was wrong. maybe i wouldn't get it all. maybe i was only deserving of this small (very wonderful) piece of my wonderland. fast forward 7 months, 8 months, 9 months.. still nothing. no womb to be filled no baby cries to tend to. my nightmare was coming true. carry on to month 11, month 12...
4 AM on August 5, I peed.. fully expecting a negative test to stare back at me i was bemused and exhilerated by the most definitely positive test screaming back at me. could it be.. could this be it.. could my white picket fence dream truly be coming true? im 9 weeks pregnant... the midwife comes, pulls out a doppler, pours a gel on my tummy, wiggles the probe around.. what's that? sounds like galloping horses.. 'that's your baby's heart beat' it was a magical moment of realness. that was MY baby? but wait... i was the undeserving girl. how did i become this girl? the girl with the husband to love and to cherish and the teeny tiny heartbeat of a love bug growing inside? impossible.. fast forward.. sunday march 28, 2010 contractions start. 7 hours later a beautiful, innocent, loving, wonderous little being was plopped onto my stomach. a small cry of recognition sprang from this little persons lungs. it was real. and it was happening. and it was happening to me.
fast forward again. our lives are taking the path the lord had laid for us. we moved, j got a great opportunity and Savanna was growing like a weed. she was beginning to do new things each day. we were planning her entire life for her. we were planning our entire lives WITH her. fast forward.. november 12. i became undeserving. i became that girl i once thought i would be forever. i was the girl with a dead baby and no cause for why. i was empty. lost. confused. angry. anxious. deflated.
and then i needed an outlet. i needed something. the funeral passed. the last time i would physically ever see her face. the last time i would ever feel her hair or graze her sweet hands. the last time i laid my eyes on my most perfect prize. the best parts of me were gone. the best parts of my dreams were dead in a coffin encompassed in my 7.5 month old daughter. i needed something.. and so i turned to this place.
i started writing.. and as i drove home from school today i realized my original and real intentions. i wanted to belong to something. i wanted to feel a part of something. i wanted to know if i would ever feel like me again. would i ever be normal. i could no longer be a part of the mommy club. (yes i know i will always be a mother) i could no longer talk of the NEW things my child was doing, only the things she DID do. but sooner then later i would run out of those stories while the world around me still had a story to tell. and so i wanted to find a new 'club' a new belonging. i didn't feel deserving. and so i found somewhere i belonged. somewhere where i could try to figure me out again. that's why i started this. not to get 1000 followers or to see my daughters name as many different places as i could. it was to be a part of something again to feel like i belonged somewhere. i have been so lost for as long as i could remember. i got married and had a baby and started to feel a sense of belonging. then it was taken from, she was taken from me. ripped from arms and torn from heart. and yet here were others feeling my feelings, sensing my pain, feeling the same pain. i belonged again.
and thats where i need to go back to. thats what made this world, this blank white screen, this blinking cursor so sacred and so safe. it was my place for me that i belonged to. my private sector in my world of hurt and pain. sadness and sorrow.
and so now i have made a vow to myself. i write for me and only for me. my life started when i met my husband, it began when i felt the first kick of my daughter, existence happened when Savanna yelped her first cry, my world felt defeated when she died. these are the tales of that world getting turned upside down. and as long as i continue to remind myself these things, this place can become as sacred as it once was.
thank you to so many of you who have constantly shared your stories, your testimonies, your life experiences with me. your words, your encouragement and your love has gotten me through times that i never thought i would manage through. i wont make any promises anymore of how often i will or wont write. at the end of the day i cant write for you, i have to write for me. and i am ok with admitting that now. it gives me great comfort to know my story and Savanna's life have touched so many. but if i don't stay true to me and to what i feel my purpose is, then it won't be sincere. and that is something i will always promise to be in this space. i am sincere, i am real, i am raw. i am the girl who's daughter died. and i am the girl trying to learn to live in a world that keeps on living while part of me has died.
February 16, 2012
December 29, 2011
I'm still here
Well geez, where have I been what have I been up to... it's been a crazy month. Well, that's an understatement... every month is a crazy month. Been working crazy hours at work... trying to gear up for the cold weather... prepping for the spring semester of school and on top of it all just trying to figure out where i fit in this big little world. another holiday has passed... successfully.. i guess. we were surrounded by wonderful friends and family and made memories to last forever.. but of course there was always something nagging at my heart something missing from the flocks of people in and out of our house. this year was different then the last. last year, our grief was so fresh. she died, two weeks later was thanksgiving, three weeks after that was christmas. i was still in a bit of shock, in an out of body experience. i remember last year telling J it was a hidden blessing (a crappy thing yes, but to find any kind of silver lining in our situation was what i solely lived off of on some days) that she passed right near the holidays. while in the freshest of grief we also had to freshly grieve the hardest time of year. so in a way we killed two birds with one stone.. (seems an insensitive way to look at it but it is what it is and it helped me to cope) fast forward now to this year. the fall and winter is my favorite time of year. bust out the hot chocolate, spark up the fireplace, slap on the flannel plants and start the decoration frenzy... sure i was still excited this year, but at the same time i knew what else that meant. yet another holiday season without Savanna. as the months donned on and november crept nearer and we passed her angel-versary, i was overwhelmed by anger, sadness, guilt, hurt... it felt like i was grieving all over again. and i think it goes back to last year.. because we were so fresh in our grief we were still in shock, still rather numb, still just trying to figure out how to survive day to day when we went through our first holiday without her.. but this year, it's much more real much more an actuality no longer so surreal. this year we have gone passed the coping and simply gone into living and surviving that it stung in a much more different way. and so i went through this holiday season rather numb like. we went to her spot the week before christmas to decorate and it was bittersweet. such a beautiful memorial for her, yet i was angry that this was the 'presents' i had to bring to my daughter. it just isn't fair. and that is something i seem to have been battling off and on these last couple weeks. it is so completely unfair.. i think back to when i was kid and i would stomp my feet cross my arms and pudge up my face because it wasn't fair that I didn't get what everyone else had. i found myself wanting to do that exact same thing this year.. some 20 years later. so in essence this year seemed a bit harder then the last. but we managed, by the grace of God, and the love and support from one another, we were able to get through it.
and now we begin to embark on another year. another year without her. i still can't believe she's been gone over a year now and we are marking our way through the second year without her. it hardly seems like it was just yesterday i was in labor, or that we were packing up the car to move across the country, or the day we bought our very first home. i know all the things the have become in this last year as i reflect. so many blessings, some hurt and heartache. i have decided for the new year to make more time for me. i have lost myself so completely it's scary. i work i go to school i eat i pee i shit i shower i sleep. (not necessarily in that order) i have so many projects i want to work on but have not made time. so in this new year i will make more time, that includes making time for my blog (which i have neglected so completely) making time for my crafts and projects (i got a new sewing machine for christmas!!) taking some photography workshops (i got a camera for xmas too! thanks hubster!!) photography was something i have always wanted to dabble in but never thought i had a knack for it. after our loss, it made me realize just how important a photograph is. sometimes it is the only link we have to the past.. sometimes they are better then memories.. you can touch them, it's a tangible object which in turn can flip a memory on. a picture can bring you back in time to the smells, the look of things around you.. a photo really is worth 1000 words. i may not be a top notch photographer, but a captured memory is so incredibly important. i have thought about possibly looking into the now i lay me down to sleep for hospitals but not sure if im ready to get into that just quite yet. but its something on my list.
well for now, this is all. i was kind of all over the place.. sorry about that. it is my promise to make a much bigger effort to be more present. i hate always using work as an excuse. i've lost touch with my bloggy mommies who i love so dearly and have so much respect for. it kills me that i havent been more present in their times of need. i have lost site of my legacy for savanna and i intend to make that a top priority. i hope to get working on my memory boxes for savanna's sunshine. ill post pics as soon as i get it going. lastly, im thinking of starting a vlog on youtube.com a kind of all in one. talking about grieving, life after loss, crafting, weight loss, having another baby after loss etc... so we'll see.. it's just another thing on my list lol. well until next time.. thank you all for your time to read my words and follow me on my journey.. my journey hasn't stopped it just hit a small bump and rut in the road.. but slowly it's gotten paved over.
and now we begin to embark on another year. another year without her. i still can't believe she's been gone over a year now and we are marking our way through the second year without her. it hardly seems like it was just yesterday i was in labor, or that we were packing up the car to move across the country, or the day we bought our very first home. i know all the things the have become in this last year as i reflect. so many blessings, some hurt and heartache. i have decided for the new year to make more time for me. i have lost myself so completely it's scary. i work i go to school i eat i pee i shit i shower i sleep. (not necessarily in that order) i have so many projects i want to work on but have not made time. so in this new year i will make more time, that includes making time for my blog (which i have neglected so completely) making time for my crafts and projects (i got a new sewing machine for christmas!!) taking some photography workshops (i got a camera for xmas too! thanks hubster!!) photography was something i have always wanted to dabble in but never thought i had a knack for it. after our loss, it made me realize just how important a photograph is. sometimes it is the only link we have to the past.. sometimes they are better then memories.. you can touch them, it's a tangible object which in turn can flip a memory on. a picture can bring you back in time to the smells, the look of things around you.. a photo really is worth 1000 words. i may not be a top notch photographer, but a captured memory is so incredibly important. i have thought about possibly looking into the now i lay me down to sleep for hospitals but not sure if im ready to get into that just quite yet. but its something on my list.
well for now, this is all. i was kind of all over the place.. sorry about that. it is my promise to make a much bigger effort to be more present. i hate always using work as an excuse. i've lost touch with my bloggy mommies who i love so dearly and have so much respect for. it kills me that i havent been more present in their times of need. i have lost site of my legacy for savanna and i intend to make that a top priority. i hope to get working on my memory boxes for savanna's sunshine. ill post pics as soon as i get it going. lastly, im thinking of starting a vlog on youtube.com a kind of all in one. talking about grieving, life after loss, crafting, weight loss, having another baby after loss etc... so we'll see.. it's just another thing on my list lol. well until next time.. thank you all for your time to read my words and follow me on my journey.. my journey hasn't stopped it just hit a small bump and rut in the road.. but slowly it's gotten paved over.
November 18, 2011
30 minute chat
I've been sick with a nasty sinus infection these last couple days. Today I got home from work, sat my sick ass on the recliner and attempted to try and nap. But this pounding headache kept me tossing and turning and extremely uncomfortable, sooo I turned the tv on, popped open the DVR and decided to try to 'catch up' on some shows and hopefully fall asleep in the process. I started in on the two hour episode of Private Practice. There was a part where one of the doctors was at his wife's grave, talking to her. And I realized something I had forgotten, well made myself forget.
On Monday I had my first visit with Dr. D-grief counselor. Yes, that's right, I finally did it. I finally decided to wave my white flag. I finally admitted to myself, that although I have seemed to fix myself my whole life, I may need some outside help to mend this broken lady right here. And so, on Monday I got to meet Dr. D and so far, I adore her. She gives me an insight and a point of view that I have never thought of. Which that's their job right? But she does it without making me feel like what I'm doing, thinking, feeling or acting is unnatural or weird. Again, her job right? Well amongst all the things we talked about in this 60 minute session. (who knew so much could be crammed into what seems so little time) she gave me a tool to use.
I think I speak for many when I say that we don't like to feel. We pretend, heck we could Oscar award winners with the acts we put on. We wake up, slap a silly smile on our face and go about our day. Strangers never knowing what lurks behind that facade of a smile, co-workers never really seeing the pain behind our eyes. For me, I got so good at playing this part, the part of a healthy 'normal' working class citizen that I forget. I forget to feel, partly because I don't want to, but mostly because I'm afraid I can't stop. It seemed Ok to cry at first, but now? Well now I have to be strong, now I have to move forward, now I have to live my life. But that just wasn't settling right with me. So, with that being said, good ol' Dr. D gave me something to do. Something I could use to work through that fear.
Create a grief box. (metaphorically not literally) She told me to use her room, since we still have all her things in there, and a lingering smell favorable to Savanna only. Go in there, she said, set a timer.. whether it be 10 minutes, 20 minutes, 30 minutes, or an hour. Whatever you want, set the timer and go in there. That way you're in control. You now there is an end because you set the timer and you know when to stop.
My reaction was well, I'll feel stupid and silly. It seems dumb.. what's that going to do? NOTHING! She then said to me to just try it. Go in there and lay in the middle of the floor. And do whatever it is I feel.. not what I THINK I SHOULD feel. And that right there made such utter and total sense to me. I think we get wrapped up in what we think we should be feeling or how we should be reacting rather then just letting it be whatever it's supposed to be. She told me that I might even surprise myself, but try it just once a week, talk to her, cry for her, be angry and scream if I have to. But do whatever I FEEL.
With work and school and sickness, I pushed that to the very bottom of my to-do list. It all sounded groovy in the session, but real-world settled back into view and it just wasn't going to work into my schedule. Well, I didn't want it to work into my schedule to be honest. And then tonight I watched that episode, and saw that part and it all came back and I knew I had to do it. So I did. I stood in front of her room, phone in hand with the timer set for 30 minutes. And can you believe that I was nervous?? My heart was beating fast and I was getting anxious. It was an unreal feeling. I opened the door, turned on the light and sat. Set the timer and off I went....
Silence. I sat there and stared.. who knows how long. And finally I just started to say my thoughts out loud. I talked to her. Some tears were shed yes, laughter was made yes, anger was outbursted yes, memories were brought up yes. But I did it. And in the end it didn't seem as bad as I had made it. And I actually came to a few of my own conclusions. This is my reality and I know it is, yet I wonder if it will ever feel like it's unreal. It's been a year now, and yet it still feels so unreal.
It's no secret I want another baby. When it will happen only the Lord knows. But I stumbled upon some deep down feelings about I never was able to verbalize before. Sure I want another one for all the obvious reasons.. I want that feeling again, I want this void to somehow be filled, I want to feel like my purpose as a mother is still very real, I want to feel like I can succeed. Mostly I have told J that I want to prove to myself and the world that I can raise a healthy productive person. But something I came upon tonight that I had not realized before is that I want another one to have a piece of Savanna. No not to replace her, not to have a clone of her. There will never be another Savanna Dawn. But in her little sister/brother there will be snippets of her. Maybe in the way they look or their mannerisms perhaps in their personality and character. With the love and the pure joy from sharing another child with J I will somehow get a little snippet of my Savanna.
I carry her in my heart, in my memories, in the very brink of my soul. She is with me everywhere I go, and I see her in small moments of each day. Tonight, felt like a breakthrough for me, a small one yes, but a breakthrough nonetheless. I let myself feel something tonight. Something I have not allowed myself to do in quite some time. We all get so busy in our everyday lives we forget to ALLOW ourselves these small moments to ourselves. I only wish I had done it sooner.. but somehow this was the right time. I'm not sure I could have handled it sooner. And somehow I have felt a little closer to her.
We ended the chat with "The Cat in the Hat." I guess I can read to her again. It made me smile.
On Monday I had my first visit with Dr. D-grief counselor. Yes, that's right, I finally did it. I finally decided to wave my white flag. I finally admitted to myself, that although I have seemed to fix myself my whole life, I may need some outside help to mend this broken lady right here. And so, on Monday I got to meet Dr. D and so far, I adore her. She gives me an insight and a point of view that I have never thought of. Which that's their job right? But she does it without making me feel like what I'm doing, thinking, feeling or acting is unnatural or weird. Again, her job right? Well amongst all the things we talked about in this 60 minute session. (who knew so much could be crammed into what seems so little time) she gave me a tool to use.
I think I speak for many when I say that we don't like to feel. We pretend, heck we could Oscar award winners with the acts we put on. We wake up, slap a silly smile on our face and go about our day. Strangers never knowing what lurks behind that facade of a smile, co-workers never really seeing the pain behind our eyes. For me, I got so good at playing this part, the part of a healthy 'normal' working class citizen that I forget. I forget to feel, partly because I don't want to, but mostly because I'm afraid I can't stop. It seemed Ok to cry at first, but now? Well now I have to be strong, now I have to move forward, now I have to live my life. But that just wasn't settling right with me. So, with that being said, good ol' Dr. D gave me something to do. Something I could use to work through that fear.
Create a grief box. (metaphorically not literally) She told me to use her room, since we still have all her things in there, and a lingering smell favorable to Savanna only. Go in there, she said, set a timer.. whether it be 10 minutes, 20 minutes, 30 minutes, or an hour. Whatever you want, set the timer and go in there. That way you're in control. You now there is an end because you set the timer and you know when to stop.
My reaction was well, I'll feel stupid and silly. It seems dumb.. what's that going to do? NOTHING! She then said to me to just try it. Go in there and lay in the middle of the floor. And do whatever it is I feel.. not what I THINK I SHOULD feel. And that right there made such utter and total sense to me. I think we get wrapped up in what we think we should be feeling or how we should be reacting rather then just letting it be whatever it's supposed to be. She told me that I might even surprise myself, but try it just once a week, talk to her, cry for her, be angry and scream if I have to. But do whatever I FEEL.
With work and school and sickness, I pushed that to the very bottom of my to-do list. It all sounded groovy in the session, but real-world settled back into view and it just wasn't going to work into my schedule. Well, I didn't want it to work into my schedule to be honest. And then tonight I watched that episode, and saw that part and it all came back and I knew I had to do it. So I did. I stood in front of her room, phone in hand with the timer set for 30 minutes. And can you believe that I was nervous?? My heart was beating fast and I was getting anxious. It was an unreal feeling. I opened the door, turned on the light and sat. Set the timer and off I went....
Silence. I sat there and stared.. who knows how long. And finally I just started to say my thoughts out loud. I talked to her. Some tears were shed yes, laughter was made yes, anger was outbursted yes, memories were brought up yes. But I did it. And in the end it didn't seem as bad as I had made it. And I actually came to a few of my own conclusions. This is my reality and I know it is, yet I wonder if it will ever feel like it's unreal. It's been a year now, and yet it still feels so unreal.
It's no secret I want another baby. When it will happen only the Lord knows. But I stumbled upon some deep down feelings about I never was able to verbalize before. Sure I want another one for all the obvious reasons.. I want that feeling again, I want this void to somehow be filled, I want to feel like my purpose as a mother is still very real, I want to feel like I can succeed. Mostly I have told J that I want to prove to myself and the world that I can raise a healthy productive person. But something I came upon tonight that I had not realized before is that I want another one to have a piece of Savanna. No not to replace her, not to have a clone of her. There will never be another Savanna Dawn. But in her little sister/brother there will be snippets of her. Maybe in the way they look or their mannerisms perhaps in their personality and character. With the love and the pure joy from sharing another child with J I will somehow get a little snippet of my Savanna.
I carry her in my heart, in my memories, in the very brink of my soul. She is with me everywhere I go, and I see her in small moments of each day. Tonight, felt like a breakthrough for me, a small one yes, but a breakthrough nonetheless. I let myself feel something tonight. Something I have not allowed myself to do in quite some time. We all get so busy in our everyday lives we forget to ALLOW ourselves these small moments to ourselves. I only wish I had done it sooner.. but somehow this was the right time. I'm not sure I could have handled it sooner. And somehow I have felt a little closer to her.
We ended the chat with "The Cat in the Hat." I guess I can read to her again. It made me smile.
November 12, 2011
One year
A year ago today, our lives threw in a blind turn, a blind spot, a fork in the road with a blockade down one side, a u-turn was made and time seemed to stop and go in reverse. One year ago today we lost our most precious gem. A year ago our Savanna died and left us here behind. We were left with memories, pictures and materialistic possessions to remind us of her. Hiccups in time would bring us back to the happier moments.
I had anticipated this day more then any other day. This day represents so much more then I can even wrap my head around in one logical sitting. Of course it first represents a year without her. A year of readjustments. A year of re-learning me. A year of learning my marriage. A year of tears and laughter. A year of choices and decisions. A year of lost hopes and dreams. A year of missing and longing. A year of change. Changes that came tearing down the doors unwelcome and unwanted. Education about my 'new' life. True I have learned so much about myself this last year.
I have learned I can be successful, I can be strong and it's ok. I have learned that I can cry uncontrollably and laugh until I can't breath and it's ok. I have learned I can miss her and love her and yet be angry at the same time and it's ok. I have learned to walk away from situations, and turn the cheek from people who may not be helpful in my journey and it's ok. I have learned that guilt is a part of the life, anger is a natural reaction, and sadness is a re-occurent theme... and it's ok. Most of all I think I have learned I can laugh, and be happy, I can smile and enjoy my life, I can keep going and it's ok. I have learned that because we move forward without her here by my side does not mean I'm moving on and forgetting about her. It simply means I'm learning to live again. The pain is no longer a stinging pain but a dulled jab. There is still a hole, though it feels slightly more mended. There is a void, though I have gotten somewhat accostomed to the feeling. Our family continues to somehow feel incomplete, yet we know that will always be the case. I have more good days then bad, but I allow myself the bad days.
I know the road will continue to be treachourous, wavy and filled with shallow waters and deep sink holes. But along with that, the road will be overflowing with sunshine and beautiful sunsets, ladybugs and sunflowers, rainbows and bright blue sky's.
In the still of the night I can close my eyes and I am transformed back to a time when life made sense and there were no hard choices to make. I am taken back to a sweet joyous smile and a precious innocent face looking back at me. I am taken back to moments of time and I remind myself how thankful and blessed we are to have those to look back upon. One year ago from today, November 12, I watched the life of my sweet pea flutter away into the Heavens, I am simply thankful to have her footprints imbedded on my heart. I am grateful and so completely and totally blessed to be the lucky one to be her momma.
Sweet Savanna Dawn,
You are my breath of fresh air. The chilled breeze blowing in my hair. You are the sweet smells of spring flowers and the comforting smell of fall. You are my warm sunshine in the mornings and the bright moon lighting my way at night. You are my rock that keeps me grounded and my stars to keep me dreaming. You give me hope to keep going, you give me strength to keep on living. I love you more and more each day, even when I don't think it's possible. I will always wonder what you would look like, I will always wonder what kind of beautiful woman you would have grown up to be. I will always wonder what life would be like with you still here with me. I think of you each and every day and always remember that when I reach the end of my road, you will be there waiting for me with arms wide open, bright blue eyes shining, and that sweet sweet smile waiting to invite me in to the Heavens. I love you, I love you, I love you.
-Mommy
September 12, 2011
10 Months..
First of all I want to thank everyone for all you have done in standing behind me. Although the comment that was made stung hard and hurt deeply I was remind that for the one jerk off, there are 1000 of you who are full of compassion and true caring. So thank you. I am happy to say I will be not making my blog private. How can I let the comment of one so ignorant affect the legacy my daughter has laid out? I did however make some changes to my settings. No longer can 'anonymous' people make comments, and I must approve all comments before they are published. Although I can't control who reads, I can at least control those who decide to give there unsolicited advise. I'm sure she won't be the last to make an ignorant thoughtless comment. I can only hope she read through the many comments from all of you readers and felt extremely small and insignificant. Mostly, I hope she was educated in her very self-centered and small minded vision. Not only did she offend myself, she offended my friends and family, other BLM's as well as all those working moms out there- both career and SAHM's. So again, thank you for making me realize, she doesn't deserve my anger or attention. But it sure felt good to stick up for myself!
****
And now I think about the day and what it represents. Today it has been 10 months she died. I'm not sure what I think, or feel about it. I do know that in one instant it seemed to fly by, yet at the same time was long and drawn out. It also means I am much closer to an entire 365 days without her. Lately I have been left to wondering what our life would be like right now if we had our little 17 month old running around here. How chaotic yet exciting our days would be. Everyday would be a new adventure. Of course I wonder what she would look like, what would her voice sound like. Would we be attempting potty training? What would her favorite words be?
The initial ache and pain has seemed to dull slightly. Some days it is a very deafening pain, while others it's quite transparent. I am beginning to get a grasp on what 'living' without her really is. Now we have moved past the 'coping' and moved into the surviving. We have embarked upon a new journey down a different path. I always take a rest along the way, close my eyes and try to imagine how differently our journey would have been. I miss her terribly and that is something that has never dulled. That, I'm sure, it never will.
****
I feel as if I often repeat myself. I've said all the things I could say that I have felt and ever felt. Everyday is a new day, and I'm OK with having good days as they are more often now then they once were. There is still a push of guilt when I have a succession of good days, but I try not to beat myself up over it. I have some projects I plan to start again. I started the memory box idea, but now have decided to make some adjustments to the legacy left by Savanna. I don't want to share too much as I plan to have an 'unveiling' soon. As I've stayed away from this place due to the extremely busy schedule and the fear of repetition there is one thing I have realized. I love this space. I love what it represents. I love what it says. I love where it has taken me. I love the people that I have 'met.' With that being said.. I will be taking a bit of a hiatus. Although it seems that I already have, there has been an underlaying pressure when I think about blogging. So, to relieve myself of that pressure, I will be taking a leave of absence. I don't know how long, but I know for certain it's not forever. And who knows, taking that pressure off of myself, I may find here back again before you know it.
Please feel free to email me (t.bogue@live.com) as I love to hear from the readers and other BLM's. It is you that give me the courage to keep going and the strength to continue telling my story. Please become a part of Savannas Facebook Page (you can find the link on the right hand toolbar) to continue getting updates. I have ceased adding people that I don't know to my personal Facebook page as it started to get out of hand. My friends list has been dwindled down to keep it as private as possible. But I welcome anyone to Savannas Sunshine Page.
I want to thank all of you again for following me along on this journey and for continuing to follow me. Never judging, always supporting and forever encouraging. Please know this is not goodbye, just a see you later.
So, until next time.
****
And now I think about the day and what it represents. Today it has been 10 months she died. I'm not sure what I think, or feel about it. I do know that in one instant it seemed to fly by, yet at the same time was long and drawn out. It also means I am much closer to an entire 365 days without her. Lately I have been left to wondering what our life would be like right now if we had our little 17 month old running around here. How chaotic yet exciting our days would be. Everyday would be a new adventure. Of course I wonder what she would look like, what would her voice sound like. Would we be attempting potty training? What would her favorite words be?
The initial ache and pain has seemed to dull slightly. Some days it is a very deafening pain, while others it's quite transparent. I am beginning to get a grasp on what 'living' without her really is. Now we have moved past the 'coping' and moved into the surviving. We have embarked upon a new journey down a different path. I always take a rest along the way, close my eyes and try to imagine how differently our journey would have been. I miss her terribly and that is something that has never dulled. That, I'm sure, it never will.
****
I feel as if I often repeat myself. I've said all the things I could say that I have felt and ever felt. Everyday is a new day, and I'm OK with having good days as they are more often now then they once were. There is still a push of guilt when I have a succession of good days, but I try not to beat myself up over it. I have some projects I plan to start again. I started the memory box idea, but now have decided to make some adjustments to the legacy left by Savanna. I don't want to share too much as I plan to have an 'unveiling' soon. As I've stayed away from this place due to the extremely busy schedule and the fear of repetition there is one thing I have realized. I love this space. I love what it represents. I love what it says. I love where it has taken me. I love the people that I have 'met.' With that being said.. I will be taking a bit of a hiatus. Although it seems that I already have, there has been an underlaying pressure when I think about blogging. So, to relieve myself of that pressure, I will be taking a leave of absence. I don't know how long, but I know for certain it's not forever. And who knows, taking that pressure off of myself, I may find here back again before you know it.
Please feel free to email me (t.bogue@live.com) as I love to hear from the readers and other BLM's. It is you that give me the courage to keep going and the strength to continue telling my story. Please become a part of Savannas Facebook Page (you can find the link on the right hand toolbar) to continue getting updates. I have ceased adding people that I don't know to my personal Facebook page as it started to get out of hand. My friends list has been dwindled down to keep it as private as possible. But I welcome anyone to Savannas Sunshine Page.
I want to thank all of you again for following me along on this journey and for continuing to follow me. Never judging, always supporting and forever encouraging. Please know this is not goodbye, just a see you later.
So, until next time.
September 10, 2011
A word of caution
To the person who left this comment on my previous post and to those others who might make something similar...
if you don't want to stay at home and raise your child, then you shouldn't have any more children.I'm sorry but letting a daycare raise your baby is just wrong.They don't get the love and nurturing that we as mothers can give.these babies don't get the love and comfort from daycare workers.You can try to tell yourself over and over again that this is right, but you should be ashamed of yourself.You obviously didn't love every moment of being a stay because you say you were driving yourself crazy.I have read so many blogs just like yours where the parents try to convince the rest of us how much they loved their child, but after reading the answers to some of these questions, there doesn't seem to be any warmth or love or even sadness expressed in your words.
First of all, I never once asked for your 'advice' as piss poor as it is, keep it to yourself. Second of all, unless you have lived one day, just one day in my shoes don't even begin to judge my reasonings or reactions to the way I would do things in my life. For you to say there doesn't seem to be any warmth love or sadness expressed in my words clearly shows you have none of these things. This is a safe place for me to go and I have allowed others in to follow along. Do not disrespect, my place with your poison. This all goes back to something we have all learned as young children, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all. There is no right no wrong way to raise a child. As long as they are raised in an environment filled with love, compassion, morals, values and faith. She had all of these things. Because we are both working parents we were able to provide the things needed for her without ever wondering where the next meal was going to come from. And, by the way.. the sitter did not 'raise' my child. I RAISED MY DAUGHTER. And any other parent who has ALLOWED their children in daycare will say the same thing. The children grow up to have our morals our values. They know who we are. Clearly you have not read anything else I have said, or you would realize the guilt I already have with this subject. Do me a favor, take the door and leave this blog. Your comments and hatred and uncalled for 'advice' are not needed nor wanted. This is the first negative comment I have received and it will be the last. Do not try to tell me that I did or didn't love the moments I had at home with my daughter. They are all I have left. And one last thing... it's people like you why people like us who are grieving don't talk out loud. Nothing but judgement and your own 'personal idea' of how we should be grieving. Keep your BS to yourself and stay out of my world.
Should anyone else feel the need to 'express their advise' I will be making this place private. Your COMMENTS and THOUGHTS are always welcome... your ADVICE is not.
if you don't want to stay at home and raise your child, then you shouldn't have any more children.I'm sorry but letting a daycare raise your baby is just wrong.They don't get the love and nurturing that we as mothers can give.these babies don't get the love and comfort from daycare workers.You can try to tell yourself over and over again that this is right, but you should be ashamed of yourself.You obviously didn't love every moment of being a stay because you say you were driving yourself crazy.I have read so many blogs just like yours where the parents try to convince the rest of us how much they loved their child, but after reading the answers to some of these questions, there doesn't seem to be any warmth or love or even sadness expressed in your words.
First of all, I never once asked for your 'advice' as piss poor as it is, keep it to yourself. Second of all, unless you have lived one day, just one day in my shoes don't even begin to judge my reasonings or reactions to the way I would do things in my life. For you to say there doesn't seem to be any warmth love or sadness expressed in my words clearly shows you have none of these things. This is a safe place for me to go and I have allowed others in to follow along. Do not disrespect, my place with your poison. This all goes back to something we have all learned as young children, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all. There is no right no wrong way to raise a child. As long as they are raised in an environment filled with love, compassion, morals, values and faith. She had all of these things. Because we are both working parents we were able to provide the things needed for her without ever wondering where the next meal was going to come from. And, by the way.. the sitter did not 'raise' my child. I RAISED MY DAUGHTER. And any other parent who has ALLOWED their children in daycare will say the same thing. The children grow up to have our morals our values. They know who we are. Clearly you have not read anything else I have said, or you would realize the guilt I already have with this subject. Do me a favor, take the door and leave this blog. Your comments and hatred and uncalled for 'advice' are not needed nor wanted. This is the first negative comment I have received and it will be the last. Do not try to tell me that I did or didn't love the moments I had at home with my daughter. They are all I have left. And one last thing... it's people like you why people like us who are grieving don't talk out loud. Nothing but judgement and your own 'personal idea' of how we should be grieving. Keep your BS to yourself and stay out of my world.
Should anyone else feel the need to 'express their advise' I will be making this place private. Your COMMENTS and THOUGHTS are always welcome... your ADVICE is not.
August 4, 2011
Questions Answered
So, I asked you to ask.. and you did.. and now I'm here to answer.
How is J dealing with it?
**I can't speak for J myself... so for the first time, he will make a cameo appearance :)
Well being the person I am I tend to hold things in most of the time. And being a guy I took the role of being the strong one for Tabby. I credit being able to deal with our loss, better than most people, to my faith.
I know their is a plan bigger than ours and it was in that plan for her to be here only 7 1/2 months. As Tabby says in another question, if and when we have another one, I will still always be nervous and it will stay in the back of my mind. But only time will tell. So in short I am dealing much better than most. Just taking it one day at a time.
How do you deal as a couple?
It's not easy by any means. There have been many situations where we have bumped heads and been at each others throats. The thing about grief is that it is very individual and personal. Each person has their own way.. I am very external, J very internal. I always wanted to talk about feelings-he didn't. There were days where we were thousands of miles apart and it felt like all we did was argue and bicker. The thing is, you have to force yourselves to communicate. To talk through the hardest of hard. And so we have had our knock down drag outs.. we were exhausted in the end but accomplished. The key that I found is that I have to respect his process just I expect him to respect mine. In the same token we have to meet in the middle. I can't ask him to sacrifice certain things if I'm not willing to do the same and vice versa. It's very easy to say, "we've been through so much, we can make it through anything" The key is to MAKE it work. There are no magical things or words to solve our problems.. we have to trust in one another to be each others rock when the other is shaky - It's a shit tough road to travel. The best we can do is keep the lines of communication open. And that's the key thing I think. The divorce rate amongst baby loss parents is something like 80% We have both agreed from the moment Savanna died is that we refuse to be that 80% We had already become a SIDS statistic.. that's where it would stop. So if you take divorce out of the equation completely then it never becomes a solution.
Has the babysitter talked to you guys at all?
We actually stayed in contact with her for about a month and a half after Savanna died. I tried speaking to her the night it happened after we got back home from the hospital. But she was a sobbing mess and was trying to explain how it all happened. All I heard was bubbles from her nose and mouth and I lost it.. I couldn't continue on in the conversation I was still in such a state of shock. Finally a couple weeks later.. after the funeral and the Thanksgiving holiday she came over to talk with us. She walked us through the chain of events. We allowed her into Savanna's room and we allowed her to keep one of the blankets Savanna used at her house. She is a single mom and her kids were going away for Christmas, so we invited her over to stay with us and be with our families. As time drew on I began to notice patterns. Regardless if she was doing things purposely or not, it was affecting me. She was guilt stricken in her grief I began to feel like she was comparing the fact that Savanna died in her care as being worse then it being my daughter. I was quite angry all the time and finally talked to a chaplain about it. He advised that I not speak to her anymore. She was attached to a bad memory. So each day I take steps forward but as soon as she is brought up or we talk I take 3 steps backward, that day begins to replay all over again. Even though I know she did nothing wrong, and she did everything in her power to save my little girl, it still felt like she took her.. and now she was taking my grief too. The only thing I had. So I decided in January that it was best if we cut ties. We have not spoken or talked to her since.
Did the babysitter come to the funeral?
No she did not. The funeral was three hours away and she is a single mom with two girls. Although she expressed how much she wanted to be there it was not possible as the funeral was in the middle of the week and her children were in school. We did, however, make a copy of the slide show and video for her that was shown at the service.
How many kids do you want?
We would like to have two more children.
Will you do anything differently that you didn't do with Savanna?
Boy that's a loaded question! I think about that quite often.. What could I have done differently with her. And what it comes down to is this... nothing. No matter what the circumstances, where she was at, who she was with, what she ate, what she wore.. her FULL life was only meant to be 7 months and 15 days. As a human it's so hard to fathom this thought. Our imperfect minds conceive a FULL life to be that of 70 or 80.. it's completely taboo for a parent to bury their child.. but I have come to accept that 7 months and 15 days was Savanna's full life. With that being said, when we chose to have another I'm most certain I will be highly paranoid and scared. But in the end doing anything differently isn't going to change whatever outcome his/her life will be fated to. I have no control over it. All I can do is love them unconditionally and make sure they know of their big sister. Because the thing is, all the tips on reducing the risk seemed null and void to us. She used a paci.. she was a roller so putting her on her back side or front didn't matter she slept how she was comfortable. She was crawling and trying to pull up. So the 'odds' were against her. Yet here we are. Things like bumpers and pillows and blankets in their crib.. sure I'll probably keep those things out. But at the end of the day, I have no control. So I will love them with my whole heart, and cherish each and every moment.
When/if you have more kids will you leave them with a sitter or be a stay at home mom?
Another one I have though so much about. Somehow in my mind there was a point where I thought, had she been with me she wouldn't have died. I would have saved her, that's what a mother does right? We are the protectors, the guardians of our children. But like I said before, it wouldn't have had a different outcome. So, to be point blank, I am not a stay at home mom person. I tried it.. and although I absolutely loved every moment I had with Savanna, and am so thankful for it... I was driving myself crazy. I didn't want it to get to a point where I resented her. I remember driving home from work everyday so excited and as soon as I would walk in the door I would see that smile. And it made that whole day away from her so worth it. Now please don't twist my words. Stay at home moms are admirable and courageous and the hardest workers I know. Every person has their calling, has their niche.. it's just not mine. I wish it was... BUT as I've learned through this grief journey... our plans don't always work out the way we want them to, or think they will. So once baby number 2 sparkles it's way into our lives.. my whole mind set could change. But as of now.. I will continue to work and she/he will go to a daycare program.
******
I hope this gives you some more insight into our little world and you're able to get a little more understanding of this journey. I hope it can help you to help another close to you. Just remember, sometimes the most healing words to a grief stricken, heart broken loved one are the silent ones.
**I will continue to answer questions as they come in. Email, FB me, or comment on the blog. Again, your inquiries will remain anonymous
How is J dealing with it?
**I can't speak for J myself... so for the first time, he will make a cameo appearance :)
Well being the person I am I tend to hold things in most of the time. And being a guy I took the role of being the strong one for Tabby. I credit being able to deal with our loss, better than most people, to my faith.
I know their is a plan bigger than ours and it was in that plan for her to be here only 7 1/2 months. As Tabby says in another question, if and when we have another one, I will still always be nervous and it will stay in the back of my mind. But only time will tell. So in short I am dealing much better than most. Just taking it one day at a time.
How do you deal as a couple?
It's not easy by any means. There have been many situations where we have bumped heads and been at each others throats. The thing about grief is that it is very individual and personal. Each person has their own way.. I am very external, J very internal. I always wanted to talk about feelings-he didn't. There were days where we were thousands of miles apart and it felt like all we did was argue and bicker. The thing is, you have to force yourselves to communicate. To talk through the hardest of hard. And so we have had our knock down drag outs.. we were exhausted in the end but accomplished. The key that I found is that I have to respect his process just I expect him to respect mine. In the same token we have to meet in the middle. I can't ask him to sacrifice certain things if I'm not willing to do the same and vice versa. It's very easy to say, "we've been through so much, we can make it through anything" The key is to MAKE it work. There are no magical things or words to solve our problems.. we have to trust in one another to be each others rock when the other is shaky - It's a shit tough road to travel. The best we can do is keep the lines of communication open. And that's the key thing I think. The divorce rate amongst baby loss parents is something like 80% We have both agreed from the moment Savanna died is that we refuse to be that 80% We had already become a SIDS statistic.. that's where it would stop. So if you take divorce out of the equation completely then it never becomes a solution.
Has the babysitter talked to you guys at all?
We actually stayed in contact with her for about a month and a half after Savanna died. I tried speaking to her the night it happened after we got back home from the hospital. But she was a sobbing mess and was trying to explain how it all happened. All I heard was bubbles from her nose and mouth and I lost it.. I couldn't continue on in the conversation I was still in such a state of shock. Finally a couple weeks later.. after the funeral and the Thanksgiving holiday she came over to talk with us. She walked us through the chain of events. We allowed her into Savanna's room and we allowed her to keep one of the blankets Savanna used at her house. She is a single mom and her kids were going away for Christmas, so we invited her over to stay with us and be with our families. As time drew on I began to notice patterns. Regardless if she was doing things purposely or not, it was affecting me. She was guilt stricken in her grief I began to feel like she was comparing the fact that Savanna died in her care as being worse then it being my daughter. I was quite angry all the time and finally talked to a chaplain about it. He advised that I not speak to her anymore. She was attached to a bad memory. So each day I take steps forward but as soon as she is brought up or we talk I take 3 steps backward, that day begins to replay all over again. Even though I know she did nothing wrong, and she did everything in her power to save my little girl, it still felt like she took her.. and now she was taking my grief too. The only thing I had. So I decided in January that it was best if we cut ties. We have not spoken or talked to her since.
Did the babysitter come to the funeral?
No she did not. The funeral was three hours away and she is a single mom with two girls. Although she expressed how much she wanted to be there it was not possible as the funeral was in the middle of the week and her children were in school. We did, however, make a copy of the slide show and video for her that was shown at the service.
How many kids do you want?
We would like to have two more children.
Will you do anything differently that you didn't do with Savanna?
Boy that's a loaded question! I think about that quite often.. What could I have done differently with her. And what it comes down to is this... nothing. No matter what the circumstances, where she was at, who she was with, what she ate, what she wore.. her FULL life was only meant to be 7 months and 15 days. As a human it's so hard to fathom this thought. Our imperfect minds conceive a FULL life to be that of 70 or 80.. it's completely taboo for a parent to bury their child.. but I have come to accept that 7 months and 15 days was Savanna's full life. With that being said, when we chose to have another I'm most certain I will be highly paranoid and scared. But in the end doing anything differently isn't going to change whatever outcome his/her life will be fated to. I have no control over it. All I can do is love them unconditionally and make sure they know of their big sister. Because the thing is, all the tips on reducing the risk seemed null and void to us. She used a paci.. she was a roller so putting her on her back side or front didn't matter she slept how she was comfortable. She was crawling and trying to pull up. So the 'odds' were against her. Yet here we are. Things like bumpers and pillows and blankets in their crib.. sure I'll probably keep those things out. But at the end of the day, I have no control. So I will love them with my whole heart, and cherish each and every moment.
When/if you have more kids will you leave them with a sitter or be a stay at home mom?
Another one I have though so much about. Somehow in my mind there was a point where I thought, had she been with me she wouldn't have died. I would have saved her, that's what a mother does right? We are the protectors, the guardians of our children. But like I said before, it wouldn't have had a different outcome. So, to be point blank, I am not a stay at home mom person. I tried it.. and although I absolutely loved every moment I had with Savanna, and am so thankful for it... I was driving myself crazy. I didn't want it to get to a point where I resented her. I remember driving home from work everyday so excited and as soon as I would walk in the door I would see that smile. And it made that whole day away from her so worth it. Now please don't twist my words. Stay at home moms are admirable and courageous and the hardest workers I know. Every person has their calling, has their niche.. it's just not mine. I wish it was... BUT as I've learned through this grief journey... our plans don't always work out the way we want them to, or think they will. So once baby number 2 sparkles it's way into our lives.. my whole mind set could change. But as of now.. I will continue to work and she/he will go to a daycare program.
******
I hope this gives you some more insight into our little world and you're able to get a little more understanding of this journey. I hope it can help you to help another close to you. Just remember, sometimes the most healing words to a grief stricken, heart broken loved one are the silent ones.
**I will continue to answer questions as they come in. Email, FB me, or comment on the blog. Again, your inquiries will remain anonymous
August 3, 2011
Silent Story
The eyes are the keeper of the soul. Look into someone's eyes. Sit face to face, join hands, and in silence just look. You'll be amazed at what you see, what you find, how much you can learn about the fear, pain, joy, sorrow, and happiness they have experienced in their lifetime.
I was elected senior class president in high school. So the summer before, all the officers got to go to StuCo. camp. It was a great way to learn leadership roles, and how to be a better leader, activities to help get your school involved in pep assemblies and rally weeks, fundraising and community service ideas. It was a way to network with other student council groups from around the state. Rather then bunking up with your own classmates, they put you in rooms with different people. You were put into groups for activities and competitions, you were put with different people other then your classmates. At first, it was awkward, uncomfortable and I personally hated it. But then I started to embrace it. These people were awesome. They each had their own stories. They were people I probably would have never run into, or even thought of trying to strike up a conversation. This camp forced me from my comfort zone.
On one of the last days there, there was an activity they had everyone do. It sounded so silly when they started explaining it. Being it our first time at this camp, we all kind of laughed it off and just though ok we'll do it, the faster we get it over with the faster we get to go home. The whole camp (of about 200 or so students) split up into two groups. There was an outside circle and an inside circle. Each person was face to face. So basically you had a partner. You then joined hands and for 5 seconds you just looked into their eyes. At first I didn't see the big deal, thought this was corny and had no idea what kind of 'lesson' they were trying to teach. First person, we looked, 'switch' they said. The outside circle took a step to the left, the inside circle took a step to their left, therefore switching partners. Gazing into another persons eyes.. 5 seconds 'switch' again a new person. finally byt he fifth or sixth person, it started to sink it. It was my aha moment. You couldn't help but be tearful, you couldn't help but squeeze that strangers hand a little tighter, you couldn't help but to give them a hug before you switched partners again.
The eyes are the keeper. The eyes share a story. A silent story. In the tears that are shed, they are tears of a person's life. Memories they hold to their heart pouring from their tear ducts. As I gazed into each of these people's eyes, I saw that. I could see behind the facade of a happy person, there was hurt. Behind the smiles and the crazy clown kid, the pain. The trials and tribulations they have gone through. that person was equal..
And now, I think back to that moment and think about my silent story. In the days after Savanna died, I thought for sure I had a post-it note on my forward. I was the girl with the dead daughter walking around and everyone knew. Sure I had my share of crap growing up, who doesn't? There were times as a teen and young adult that I thought my life was crashing down around me. In my past relationship I was mentally and verbally abused... I had hit rock bottom.. But here I was years later.. walking around.. having just buried my 7.5 month old daughter. It's a different feeling then rock bottom. It's inexplicable pain, constant heartache. I wonder now, what kind of story do my eyes tell? Do they tell the story of a girl who had the 'perfect' life and then it all crashed down in an instant? Is it the story of the girl who was mentally and verbally beaten but came out on top? What kind of pain in my tears are there now? As I think about that.. i think about the stories of others. As I walk through wal-mart and I see the solemn faced woman, or the perfectly happy couple, the older couple holding hands, what are their stories? what kinds of memories, fears, thoughts and happiness do their eyes lock away? how many of these people have hidden compartments in their hearts of hurt they cling to. Grief they can't let go of. Pain that still hurts. Voided chambers in their heart left open.
These thoughts make me slow to judge someone else. Sure I get into my tyrants and judge away. But after Savanna passed.. I had a better understanding. I'm sure there were days that I was not presentable to the public.. I wonder what those people thought of me? So now when I see pictures of the family on the back of the windshield, or the in memory of stickers, or the carseat in the back, or the solemn faced couple walking through the store.. I no longer, or at least I try, not to make abrupt judgements and conclusions about that person. My hourney ahs been hard to get to where I have been.. it's been mixed with pure joy and happiness, tragedy and sorrow. Pain and hurt, love and compassion. No one else could have walked my journey, for it is my own. Just as I could not have traveled someone else's. We are each individual in our paths that we walk. The pathway has been paved with our specific footprints waiting for us to step through each barrier and trench.
The death of your child makes you, forces you to view the world differently. Makes you look at people differently. Pushes you to be different. This 'opportunity' is never taken with open arms and is always forced upon our laps.. As I have stubbornly and unwillfully accepted this fate.. I have found that people are who they are. Whether we agree with their choices, their beliefs or their decisions.. their path is still paved and they are taking the steps they were always meant to take. Their path is individualized for them. their DNA of life. So the next time someone is having a bad day, they are flying off the deep end, or the cashier at work doesn't smile as big as she usually does, think about their silent story. Look into their eyes and see what's on the other side. You'd be surprised.
Don't believe me? Just try it, you'll surprise even yourself.
******
Now, I wanted to open this up with questions. I have seen several other people do this on their blogs and thought it was a great idea. A way for you to learn more about me. So in a comment or email (t.bogue@live.com) or fb message (whatever you feel most comfortable with) ask me a question. It can be anything. It can be about Savanna or myself, about SIDS, or her death. About her life, or grief. ANYTHING! And after each post I will answer those questions.. leaving the person anonymous. I write on here as a way to get m y thoughts out there. aS a way to chronicle this path to remember there wer darker then dark moments but to also remember there ware good and happy moments. I never thought it would grow to the place it has become. I am so grateful for the constant love and support i feel from so many that read. Both family, and friends as well as strangers. So this 'interview' is for you. So the door is open and the canvas is blank... ask away!
Remember I'm raw and real and to the point--if i feel that a question is out of line i will say so.. but i will promise to keep all inquiries anonymous.
I was elected senior class president in high school. So the summer before, all the officers got to go to StuCo. camp. It was a great way to learn leadership roles, and how to be a better leader, activities to help get your school involved in pep assemblies and rally weeks, fundraising and community service ideas. It was a way to network with other student council groups from around the state. Rather then bunking up with your own classmates, they put you in rooms with different people. You were put into groups for activities and competitions, you were put with different people other then your classmates. At first, it was awkward, uncomfortable and I personally hated it. But then I started to embrace it. These people were awesome. They each had their own stories. They were people I probably would have never run into, or even thought of trying to strike up a conversation. This camp forced me from my comfort zone.
On one of the last days there, there was an activity they had everyone do. It sounded so silly when they started explaining it. Being it our first time at this camp, we all kind of laughed it off and just though ok we'll do it, the faster we get it over with the faster we get to go home. The whole camp (of about 200 or so students) split up into two groups. There was an outside circle and an inside circle. Each person was face to face. So basically you had a partner. You then joined hands and for 5 seconds you just looked into their eyes. At first I didn't see the big deal, thought this was corny and had no idea what kind of 'lesson' they were trying to teach. First person, we looked, 'switch' they said. The outside circle took a step to the left, the inside circle took a step to their left, therefore switching partners. Gazing into another persons eyes.. 5 seconds 'switch' again a new person. finally byt he fifth or sixth person, it started to sink it. It was my aha moment. You couldn't help but be tearful, you couldn't help but squeeze that strangers hand a little tighter, you couldn't help but to give them a hug before you switched partners again.
The eyes are the keeper. The eyes share a story. A silent story. In the tears that are shed, they are tears of a person's life. Memories they hold to their heart pouring from their tear ducts. As I gazed into each of these people's eyes, I saw that. I could see behind the facade of a happy person, there was hurt. Behind the smiles and the crazy clown kid, the pain. The trials and tribulations they have gone through. that person was equal..
And now, I think back to that moment and think about my silent story. In the days after Savanna died, I thought for sure I had a post-it note on my forward. I was the girl with the dead daughter walking around and everyone knew. Sure I had my share of crap growing up, who doesn't? There were times as a teen and young adult that I thought my life was crashing down around me. In my past relationship I was mentally and verbally abused... I had hit rock bottom.. But here I was years later.. walking around.. having just buried my 7.5 month old daughter. It's a different feeling then rock bottom. It's inexplicable pain, constant heartache. I wonder now, what kind of story do my eyes tell? Do they tell the story of a girl who had the 'perfect' life and then it all crashed down in an instant? Is it the story of the girl who was mentally and verbally beaten but came out on top? What kind of pain in my tears are there now? As I think about that.. i think about the stories of others. As I walk through wal-mart and I see the solemn faced woman, or the perfectly happy couple, the older couple holding hands, what are their stories? what kinds of memories, fears, thoughts and happiness do their eyes lock away? how many of these people have hidden compartments in their hearts of hurt they cling to. Grief they can't let go of. Pain that still hurts. Voided chambers in their heart left open.
These thoughts make me slow to judge someone else. Sure I get into my tyrants and judge away. But after Savanna passed.. I had a better understanding. I'm sure there were days that I was not presentable to the public.. I wonder what those people thought of me? So now when I see pictures of the family on the back of the windshield, or the in memory of stickers, or the carseat in the back, or the solemn faced couple walking through the store.. I no longer, or at least I try, not to make abrupt judgements and conclusions about that person. My hourney ahs been hard to get to where I have been.. it's been mixed with pure joy and happiness, tragedy and sorrow. Pain and hurt, love and compassion. No one else could have walked my journey, for it is my own. Just as I could not have traveled someone else's. We are each individual in our paths that we walk. The pathway has been paved with our specific footprints waiting for us to step through each barrier and trench.
The death of your child makes you, forces you to view the world differently. Makes you look at people differently. Pushes you to be different. This 'opportunity' is never taken with open arms and is always forced upon our laps.. As I have stubbornly and unwillfully accepted this fate.. I have found that people are who they are. Whether we agree with their choices, their beliefs or their decisions.. their path is still paved and they are taking the steps they were always meant to take. Their path is individualized for them. their DNA of life. So the next time someone is having a bad day, they are flying off the deep end, or the cashier at work doesn't smile as big as she usually does, think about their silent story. Look into their eyes and see what's on the other side. You'd be surprised.
Don't believe me? Just try it, you'll surprise even yourself.
******
Now, I wanted to open this up with questions. I have seen several other people do this on their blogs and thought it was a great idea. A way for you to learn more about me. So in a comment or email (t.bogue@live.com) or fb message (whatever you feel most comfortable with) ask me a question. It can be anything. It can be about Savanna or myself, about SIDS, or her death. About her life, or grief. ANYTHING! And after each post I will answer those questions.. leaving the person anonymous. I write on here as a way to get m y thoughts out there. aS a way to chronicle this path to remember there wer darker then dark moments but to also remember there ware good and happy moments. I never thought it would grow to the place it has become. I am so grateful for the constant love and support i feel from so many that read. Both family, and friends as well as strangers. So this 'interview' is for you. So the door is open and the canvas is blank... ask away!
Remember I'm raw and real and to the point--if i feel that a question is out of line i will say so.. but i will promise to keep all inquiries anonymous.
August 1, 2011
So What's Happening...
Well.. once again I strayed away from my virtual sanctuary. For good reason though I promise... we are understaffed at work an therefore there are more hours to be filled by all others. What does this mean? Mucho overtime.. on top of the 60 hour work weeks I'm taking 2 online classes. Oh and raising a husband *wink* did I mention keeping the dog from eating the cats head? So yes.. at the end of the day--rather then study the nutritional values of this that or the other.. or solve for x,y or z I have decided to blog! So i'm just gonna give y'all an update on what's going on. And that same instant hopefully sort through the cluster of thoughts rummaging through my extremely flooded brain.. sooo bear (or bare?) with me...
PS prepare for long winded-ness run on sentences and crappy grammer.. there's much to tell.. and as always its raw and real and my reality
DREAMS
Lately I have been having a lot of dreams. Not just any dream though. Dreams about Savanna. Most would say.. well that's wonderful! But in one moment I love that I dream of her, and in the next I hate it. Or do I just hate that I have to wake up to the shitty reality? Hmm.. maybe a bit of both? Anywho, after she died I prayed and I prayed for a dream of her. I begged God to allow visions of her to come to my mind. I was having so much trouble at that time remembering all the good, instead I had the terror images of tubes and caskets and marker stones in my minds eye. (in afterthough I think He knew I wasn't quite ready to handle the dreams yet) I'm not sure how long it was before I finally had a dream about S, but it was always the same. She started off dead in my dream, then she would come back to life. It was a miracle, but in my dream it was some what of a norm. I remember that in each dream I would run to her, someone else would be holding her.. but it was like we were in one of the fun houses with the wacked out mirrors. Only this wasn't fun. She was always just out of reach. It was always different people, in different locations at different times of the day. She was always wearing the ducky pj's we buried her in.. so I'm guessing this was subconscience bringing to the forefront of my mind my reality. She would always be as close to my heart as could be, but never in arms length any longer.
Eventually those dreams stopped. Part of me was grateful.. waking up with the voided bleeding hole became emotionally draining. that same feeling of knowing she was so close but out of reach brought back the moments of when I first saw her laying in her casket. Her casing, but not her.
Fast forward to several months later. These last couple weeks Savanna has sparkled her way back into my dreams. but this time much differently. Again she starts out gone in the dreams, but somehow a miracle happens and she's alive. In one of the dreams I think out loud.. I wonder if she remembers me. And in the same moment those thoughts dribbled through my mind I look down at the dining room floor and there she is. Sitting there playing in the dirt from the plant.. (go figure.. it's totally how she was!) I called her name, fingers crossed, breath held, body filled with tension hoping she would remember who I was.. she looks up at me and I see those beautiful blue eyes, and slowly her lips spread into a wide and toothless grin. The recollection and connection that only a mother and their child can share. I was able to scoop her up and I remember just holding her so tightly. Kissing her all over her little face trying to remember all her little details and then in my dream I realize I'm only in a dream. So I squeeze her longer and as hard as I could and then I wake up. This dream has happened several times.. sometimes she's in her crib, sometimes on the floor, sometimes in her bouncer. But always she will smile at me, I will scoop her up.. and then BAM the realization that it's only a dream.
I'm not sure if it means anything or if my subcon is just pulling forth what I've wanted it to for so long. And now that I have it.. I'm not sure I want it anymore. I wak up feeling empty and sad. Just wishing for one more moment with her. Wishing I could wake up and walk into her room and see her curled up in her bed. For now, I guess, I will take it for what it is.. I will ry to cherish these moments.. even if they're just imaginary.. for now that's all I got.
PACKING IT UP
Savanna's stuff. Her clothes. Her bibs. Her shoes. Blankets. Burp cloths. Diapers. Wipes. Toys. Bouncer. Boppy. Bumbo. Diaper bag. Hats.. etc. etc. et-freaking-cetera. It's all been piled up in her room since the day she died. The Friday that she passed, I asked one of my friends to come to the house and put all her stuff in her room. I couldn't bare to look at it. The thought of just coming into the house without her was painful enough. I didn't think I could look at the high chair she just sat in and ate breakfast a mere 10 hours earlier. Or the Pack N Play she peacefully napped in the day before as she spent a day off with daddy. The blankets sprawled on the floor she first learned to roll and crawl. The thought of that.. seeing that.. remembering those memories but only having a purple box and not her with us? It just didn't seem bearable.
Then her room just started to become a storage. As we collected things from her funeral.. they floated their way into her room. I hardly ever went in there unless I absolutely had to. And sure it killed me to walk in there knowing she wasn't there, but more then anything I wanted to savor her smell. It was the only plausible thing I could physically 'grab' onto besides a picture. It was a way I could still feel like she somehow lived on. It was also a reminder through those trecherous waters that she was real. It took me 3 months before I even took the dirty diapers out of the diaper genie. Call me weird or gross.. but anything that made me remember she was real, I kept. All her bears and stuffed animals, bows and ribbons from her funeral and memorial service were all tucked away into her room. Dirty clothes still in the hamper, bows hanging on the walls, her indention from her head still on the pillow. Besides the things added to the room, nothing had been changed. The last sheets and blanket she slept on still tucked away at the crib. The baby monitor still in its place. Clothes hung in the closet, clothes still in the dresser, diapers still in their specific spot. All where it should be. Everything where it was supposed to be had she still been here. Only she isn't here.
We hope to continue to grow our family again one day. And in order for me, myself and I to feel like I could really grasp the concept of possibly having another child one day.. I felt that I had to pack up. It was something that had been nagging at me, heavy on my heart. A piece of the puzzle that needed to be sealed. There is no time frame, no right or wrong way to do it. But for me in my personal journey I felt like this is what I needed to do to try and somehow continue to move forward. To somehow maybe slow the quaking ground a little more and possibly shy the shadows even further into their darkness so that the light may be able to shine just a tad bit brighter.
So I went to Wal-mart and bought pink storage bins. I saw them and immediately thought they were very fitting. My very best friend T came over to assist me. I knew I couldn't do it alone, J was at work. I wasn't sure what to expect or how I was going to react. I imagined myself curling up into a very small ball holding all of her things and bawling. Only that didn't happen. Instead.. as we went through the clothes that she had grew out of, I was able to share memories. As I pulled out her little shoes and hats, happy times came to mind. I pulled out the hat that she wore the day she died, and instead of picturing her lifeless in the ER room, I was able to picture her that morning with her sweet smile. And as i pulled all of the things off of her crib and finally took the blanket and sheet off a wonderful and glorious thing happened. The room that had started to fade of her smell.. had an instantaneous blast. It was as if all the things sitting atop the covers had held in her scent. T and I both looked at each other and just smiled. I knew this was her, cheering me on and supporting me. Letting me know it was OK to move forward. It doesn't mean I'm moving on without her. Even in the smallest of movements, the teensiest of an action she is somewhere nearby. It will never be in the way I desire or want, but I'll take what I can get. So we finished packing her things up, I placed it all in the closet. And closed the door. I dusted off the empty dresser, ran my finger through the spokes of the empty crib, and took down the pillow off the vacant diaper changer. With eyes filled with tears, a heart breaking once again, I was somehow filled with hope.
I had made it this far. And I will keep on going. Because I've said it before and I'll say it again... she is SO worth it.
PS prepare for long winded-ness run on sentences and crappy grammer.. there's much to tell.. and as always its raw and real and my reality
DREAMS
Lately I have been having a lot of dreams. Not just any dream though. Dreams about Savanna. Most would say.. well that's wonderful! But in one moment I love that I dream of her, and in the next I hate it. Or do I just hate that I have to wake up to the shitty reality? Hmm.. maybe a bit of both? Anywho, after she died I prayed and I prayed for a dream of her. I begged God to allow visions of her to come to my mind. I was having so much trouble at that time remembering all the good, instead I had the terror images of tubes and caskets and marker stones in my minds eye. (in afterthough I think He knew I wasn't quite ready to handle the dreams yet) I'm not sure how long it was before I finally had a dream about S, but it was always the same. She started off dead in my dream, then she would come back to life. It was a miracle, but in my dream it was some what of a norm. I remember that in each dream I would run to her, someone else would be holding her.. but it was like we were in one of the fun houses with the wacked out mirrors. Only this wasn't fun. She was always just out of reach. It was always different people, in different locations at different times of the day. She was always wearing the ducky pj's we buried her in.. so I'm guessing this was subconscience bringing to the forefront of my mind my reality. She would always be as close to my heart as could be, but never in arms length any longer.
Eventually those dreams stopped. Part of me was grateful.. waking up with the voided bleeding hole became emotionally draining. that same feeling of knowing she was so close but out of reach brought back the moments of when I first saw her laying in her casket. Her casing, but not her.
Fast forward to several months later. These last couple weeks Savanna has sparkled her way back into my dreams. but this time much differently. Again she starts out gone in the dreams, but somehow a miracle happens and she's alive. In one of the dreams I think out loud.. I wonder if she remembers me. And in the same moment those thoughts dribbled through my mind I look down at the dining room floor and there she is. Sitting there playing in the dirt from the plant.. (go figure.. it's totally how she was!) I called her name, fingers crossed, breath held, body filled with tension hoping she would remember who I was.. she looks up at me and I see those beautiful blue eyes, and slowly her lips spread into a wide and toothless grin. The recollection and connection that only a mother and their child can share. I was able to scoop her up and I remember just holding her so tightly. Kissing her all over her little face trying to remember all her little details and then in my dream I realize I'm only in a dream. So I squeeze her longer and as hard as I could and then I wake up. This dream has happened several times.. sometimes she's in her crib, sometimes on the floor, sometimes in her bouncer. But always she will smile at me, I will scoop her up.. and then BAM the realization that it's only a dream.
I'm not sure if it means anything or if my subcon is just pulling forth what I've wanted it to for so long. And now that I have it.. I'm not sure I want it anymore. I wak up feeling empty and sad. Just wishing for one more moment with her. Wishing I could wake up and walk into her room and see her curled up in her bed. For now, I guess, I will take it for what it is.. I will ry to cherish these moments.. even if they're just imaginary.. for now that's all I got.
PACKING IT UP
Savanna's stuff. Her clothes. Her bibs. Her shoes. Blankets. Burp cloths. Diapers. Wipes. Toys. Bouncer. Boppy. Bumbo. Diaper bag. Hats.. etc. etc. et-freaking-cetera. It's all been piled up in her room since the day she died. The Friday that she passed, I asked one of my friends to come to the house and put all her stuff in her room. I couldn't bare to look at it. The thought of just coming into the house without her was painful enough. I didn't think I could look at the high chair she just sat in and ate breakfast a mere 10 hours earlier. Or the Pack N Play she peacefully napped in the day before as she spent a day off with daddy. The blankets sprawled on the floor she first learned to roll and crawl. The thought of that.. seeing that.. remembering those memories but only having a purple box and not her with us? It just didn't seem bearable.
Then her room just started to become a storage. As we collected things from her funeral.. they floated their way into her room. I hardly ever went in there unless I absolutely had to. And sure it killed me to walk in there knowing she wasn't there, but more then anything I wanted to savor her smell. It was the only plausible thing I could physically 'grab' onto besides a picture. It was a way I could still feel like she somehow lived on. It was also a reminder through those trecherous waters that she was real. It took me 3 months before I even took the dirty diapers out of the diaper genie. Call me weird or gross.. but anything that made me remember she was real, I kept. All her bears and stuffed animals, bows and ribbons from her funeral and memorial service were all tucked away into her room. Dirty clothes still in the hamper, bows hanging on the walls, her indention from her head still on the pillow. Besides the things added to the room, nothing had been changed. The last sheets and blanket she slept on still tucked away at the crib. The baby monitor still in its place. Clothes hung in the closet, clothes still in the dresser, diapers still in their specific spot. All where it should be. Everything where it was supposed to be had she still been here. Only she isn't here.
We hope to continue to grow our family again one day. And in order for me, myself and I to feel like I could really grasp the concept of possibly having another child one day.. I felt that I had to pack up. It was something that had been nagging at me, heavy on my heart. A piece of the puzzle that needed to be sealed. There is no time frame, no right or wrong way to do it. But for me in my personal journey I felt like this is what I needed to do to try and somehow continue to move forward. To somehow maybe slow the quaking ground a little more and possibly shy the shadows even further into their darkness so that the light may be able to shine just a tad bit brighter.
So I went to Wal-mart and bought pink storage bins. I saw them and immediately thought they were very fitting. My very best friend T came over to assist me. I knew I couldn't do it alone, J was at work. I wasn't sure what to expect or how I was going to react. I imagined myself curling up into a very small ball holding all of her things and bawling. Only that didn't happen. Instead.. as we went through the clothes that she had grew out of, I was able to share memories. As I pulled out her little shoes and hats, happy times came to mind. I pulled out the hat that she wore the day she died, and instead of picturing her lifeless in the ER room, I was able to picture her that morning with her sweet smile. And as i pulled all of the things off of her crib and finally took the blanket and sheet off a wonderful and glorious thing happened. The room that had started to fade of her smell.. had an instantaneous blast. It was as if all the things sitting atop the covers had held in her scent. T and I both looked at each other and just smiled. I knew this was her, cheering me on and supporting me. Letting me know it was OK to move forward. It doesn't mean I'm moving on without her. Even in the smallest of movements, the teensiest of an action she is somewhere nearby. It will never be in the way I desire or want, but I'll take what I can get. So we finished packing her things up, I placed it all in the closet. And closed the door. I dusted off the empty dresser, ran my finger through the spokes of the empty crib, and took down the pillow off the vacant diaper changer. With eyes filled with tears, a heart breaking once again, I was somehow filled with hope.
I had made it this far. And I will keep on going. Because I've said it before and I'll say it again... she is SO worth it.
July 4, 2011
happy fourth
Happy Fourth of July to all those families out there... those that hold their children in their arms and especially to those who hold their babies in their hearts.
Thinking of all of you today and wishing our little ones were here to enjoy the fireworks and bbq's with us.
So much love to all of you.
Savanna,
Telling you I miss you just doesn't seem sufficient enough. The english language is so limited when it comes to how I feel about you and just how much I wish you were here. I remember so vividly our first Fourth of July with you. At the time I thought there would be many more... little did I know. You loved the fireworks and weren't even scared--you somehow even managed to sleep, and took your first ride on the 4 wheeler with daddy.
Hope you're enjoying the show from up above sweet pea. Just know I think of you constantly and always. I love you to a million and one pieces. You're my little firecracker sweet girl. Happy Fourth of July baby girl.
Always and always,
Mommy
********Remembering 07/04/2010**********
Yes, she slept through the fireworks show!
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