**Disclaimer** If you know me in my 'real' life and stumble across this blog- please know that I write here for healing, and to feel close to my Noah, and close to my grief. At times these letters may seem sad, angry, and at times, crazy. Please don't worry about me- this is how I help myself heal. If you have questions, just ask- if you know me well at all, you know that I love talking about my Noah.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Sometimes I wonder

I think since Noah died I've done a lot more 'thinking', a lot more 'day dreaming', a lot more wondering, reliving, what if-ing....
Sometimes I wonder just how much I've changed, and how I've changed.
I am I, and so, I don't know! Well, that's not entirely true- I know I've changed a bit- In some ways I'm much more compassionate, and in some ways, I just don't give a damn anymore.
I wish I was in the minds of those who knew me before and after Noah's short life... I wish I knew how I've changed.
It would be interesting to be a fly on the wall of a conversation between colleagues at my old place of work, or between family members when I'm not around.
I think I've learned to just zone out when something triggers a 'bad day'. It's like I have desensitized myself, taught myself to 'be normal', by just not feeling.
And this isn't all the time- beleive me I have some awfully bad days sometimes. bad days that probably look bad to anyone who has the unfortunate luck to grace my path on that day.
But often- I just... go blank, zone out.
I don't want to. I've learned it's good to feel.
Often I hear other people bad news- and I'm completly desensitized- sure I feel sad for them- or at least I  know I should.
Maybe this wonderful community I have had the unfortunate experience of being a part of (the BLMs) are all this way in my stage of grief.. I don't know.. but it's weird.

I'm not even sure I'm making sense. I guess it is that, most days, I don't feel the major highs and lows of emotion- I think it's that I don't let myself. I just stay 'even keel Jane'... low reaction, low excitment.. just blah.

Humm..  weird.
Is it weird?
Do you guys feel this way sometimes too?


Dearest Noah Bear
I love you, I miss you, I'm sorry.
You are the bestest little boy in Mummy's eyes- always and forever my first baby, the one who made me a mother. The boy who has a piece of my heart!

Love you forever,

Saturday, February 5, 2011

he was here...

I just finished a statistics canada telephone survey that took 1hr and 4 minutes to complete.... and not even a mention about my son... Sure they asked how many pregnancies I've had... and how old I was when I was pregnant. But since I had to list the people living in my house, I guess the assumed  I misscarried the first pregnancy. They didn't ask me how many live births I had. I guess if you say how many living people are in the house- and you only say one child- then the other must have no made it to birth..... in their eyes.

I really wanted to jump through the phone and say- Hey Stats. Can.- babies die- my baby died- he should be here living with us in this house- you should ask me about his sleep patterns, eating, and motor skills- like you did Charlotte... but... I wouldn't know the answer- because he isn't here. But he WAS here.. He existed- but to you- that's not even worth ink- since it isn't even written down.
I don't know why this frustrated me.. but it did.
I want people to know- He was here- I birthed him, I love him, he is part of the family. He just died way too early.
I wish I knew how he ate, slept and walked, if he had ongoing medical issues, asthma, ear infections... I wish I could answer all those questions.. I guess I wasn't frustrated at the person on the other end of the phone...  I am frustrated that my life doesn't include my son, and that slowly in the world of other people, he's becoming invisible and insignificant. Frustrated that I don't know the answers to questions that every mother should know. Just plain frustrated.
Those who have been in my shoes know what I mean. Those who don't, probably don't... probably think that 'he'll never be insignificant or invisible'.. those who have been in my shoes know that ... no matter what- to the mother who is missing them- their light begins to fade in others eyes... we do everything we can to keep it burning..... but sometimes... they just aren't a part of the survey.