Lost and Found

October 18 2011

 

Where is it all coming from, can it really be simply hormones, is it uncertainty of not knowing

Is it the fear that sits at the back of my mind, guilt of sadness though happiness is all around

Where is the sunshine, the laughter and love for life, we are so lucky yet feel stuck in strife

Trapped down a whole, the dirt pouring in the dust making it harder to breathe

The thoughts of loss, where do they come from, why do I feel this way?



 

November 10 2011

 

How do I share my fear; when my biggest is looking weak

How do I say I’m sinking; when you rely on me to float

Its hard to breathe; yet I am holding my breathe

Waiting to see



 

January 5 2012

 

My life is on hold, my heart is a hole, you are not alone my sweet

My fear is for you but my tears are for me; your smile rarely seen is what I hold on to.

Your strength and will to fight is my way to flow thru life

This is not easy, love is harder but pain and illness, loss and death seem inevitable

We attempt to succeed, we succumb without need

Somehow we survive



 

June 30 2012

 

You are gone and I weep, most nights I cannot sleep

I think of you as I cry into my sleeve, my heart is broken, dreams are lost

My fears realized, faith is shattered

I don’t know how to feel anymore

Your life so short, felt like a lifetime, I wish I could hold you one last time

If only in my dreams



 

February 18 2017

 

Years fly by in a flash, five gone just like that, though they dragged in the moments

They seem vanished in the blink of an eye, my heartbeat painfully slow

Memory falters, though the thoughts never go

Your loss has taught me so much more than you know



 

June 1 2017

 

Hard or week, soft and strong, we wonder where do we belong

You look in the mirror that one odd day, the reflection however does not look the same

Where have you gone, who is this face

The lines show losses, loves, triumphs and defeat

The bags proof of hard sleep

Where has time gone that the reflection has become a stranger


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Lost thoughts suddenly found

 

Cleaning out a drawer, I found this piece of paper tucked into a book, I looked it over, not remembering haven written it, I read the short notes and their dates, it slowly, foggily comes back to me. I cannot believe I wrote these, I do not remember much of those hard months five years ago and am grateful to have scribbled thoughts at random, that I have now found and added two more recent reflections. Hence my title ‘Lost and Found’. The first and second back in 2011 was when I was pregnant with Lily, the third in 2012 was after her traumatic birth and hospitalization the fourth in 2012 after her death and fifth on the five year anniversary of her death on Feb. 18 of this year. I added the last one just as a current thought on feelings and life.

Thanks for reading.

Thoughts and comments always welcome and appreciated.

Sheri

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Five

I cannot believe you will soon be five.

You should be turning five that is.

It hurts to re-live that night five years ago, when you were born and all there is, was silence.

No beautiful wail escaped your body.

I shook in my own tears as I was expecting this moment, as if I knew it was to happen.

Throughout my pregnancy I was terrified something was wrong. It just didn’t feel right. Then it happened, first with excitement at your arrival then with shock as you were backwards folded in half turning blue on exit. The doctor and nurses worked so hard to get you to breathe as your dad held your hand begging you to try.

I was in my own shock; all was silent. I heard nothing, I only assumed you were dead. when the doctor told me they inserted a tube finally helping you to breathe but you needed to go immediately to the NICU, that I couldn’t see you. My mind could not wrap around what was happening or why. That was the hard beginning to your short beautiful life that has changed me forever. As a mother, as a human being who vows to live empathetically and compassionately helping others. I thank you for your time in my life my beautiful child.

I wish you a happy fifth birthday this Dec 30th  wherever you are my sweet angel.

Love always and forever.

mom.

As I Drive

Where my mind goes as I drive, I think back to those long torturous drives that I had grown to detest, anticipating the anxiety that arose as I approached my destination. I have grown to hate the radio because of those long drives, angry at its insistence to play happy annoying songs, angry at its ignorance of my need to hear sad songs or silence because the music or talk it emits draws upon too many emotions that at the moment I cannot focus on. All I can focus on is my arrival at her side. I circle the building, over and over looking for free parking, I could park in cozy and safe underground parking but at fifteen dollars a day times forty two days so far is not realistic, so I circle, praying for someone to leave, desperate. Finally I find one a bit further away but I do not care. I need to get inside. I need to see her. I exit my car, often forgetting all that I will need for the day and eventually having to run back to get them. I run, my legs ache it feels as though I am not moving very fast, I push the doors open and begin my agonizingly painful walk down the long, white often empty corridor, trying to avoid the smells that surround me, wanting desperately to just magically appear at her side every morning; but having to endure this long routine of getting to her. I finally reach the room; I rush to scrub my hands, remove my rings, and sign my name on the visitor’s sheet although they should know who I am by now. I drop off the extra snacks I have brought for the kids of other families that visit in the adjoining family waiting room. I remember the first time I brought my other children here, in shock, not prepared for them to whine for food and having none. I did not want other new comers to have to feel that, I wanted to help. I wanted someone to help me. I felt so lost, so confused, so scared. Finally I get to her side, I see that they have been poking at her again; I hold back my tears as I stroke her beautiful little face, that is splattered with dried blood from their obvious failed attempts at finding useful arteries. Why. My mind so often wonders why. Why me, why her, why does this happen to anyone. I try to pick her up but it is so hard with all the tubes and IVs, so I lay my head on her tiny body, the body I grew inside my own, the body that grew unable to breathe on its own, the beautifully perfect on the outside but so broken on the inside body, that now has become mine as well. Broken; my heart is broken, my mind, now broken, unable to understand the jargon being spoken to me by doctors, specialists and surgeons. I am unable to function I just want to hold her and have everyone else shut their mouths. Stop talking to me; stop telling me to leave her so we can have a meeting about a future no one knows for sure. Stop making me drive all the way here every day, getting stuck in traffic wondering if when I get here will she be the same, will she still be there. The panic that has grown in me over these last few weeks is almost unbearable I say almost because I am still here. I just want to take her home; I just want her to be normal, to be able to breathe on her own, to not need multiple surgeries to fix the problems with her heart. I just want to stop feeling scared and sad. I often think back to all those times I knew something was wrong, all those appointments with my doctor where I could not stop crying nor could I explain why I was crying, I just knew something was wrong because of the morbid, guilty thought I often had was if I have a miscarriage that may be better. Then she came, it was traumatic to say the least. She was folded in half, I needed a caesarean but it was four in the morning and no anesthesiologist was on so I was supposed to wait till she got here, but I could not wait, not anymore, I was already two weeks late. I kept pushing, another thought that will leave me riddled with guilt, what if I just waited, what if I did this to you. So out she came, folded in half, not breathing and turning blue. The room went silent. Hours passed before someone came back to talk to us. I did not even know until months later that your dad was asked to hold your hand and talk to you as they tried to resuscitate you. A moment he is haunted by today. They told us you were being transferred to the neo natal intensive care unit at Children’s Hospital. They told us we should follow. They told us I would be admitted there. That they had to insert a tube so she could breathe but with an unknown amount of time without oxygen that she most likely had brain damage, there is even a name for it: asphyxiated birth- birth without oxygen. One of many new words I was forced to learn very unwillingly. That they would do what they could for her but that there were no guarantees. This was the first of many long, silent drives down to the hospital, to see my daughter that was born not breathing my daughter that we also later would find out was born with congenital heart disease: three holes in her heart, an abnormal trachea and needed a feeding tube. Her first surgery was when she was just 5 weeks old. But I knew none of this on that first drive. I was in shock, in denial, a part of me assumed that when we got down there, she`d be fine. The brain is funny that way. That was the first drive until 52 days later we made the last. We did not know it was the last of course, not until we got there and learned of the results from the latest scans, I did not know that was the beginning of my anxiety that surrounds driving now. We learn that the chance of you surviving, being so small and so fragile already, that the chance of surviving the surgery needed to fix you was slim if any chance of survival at all. We were told they would operate if we asked them to. But did we want to lose you on the operating table or in our arms. It is quite odd to have people speak to you this way, so matter of fact, about your child. That is going to die. They offered to move you to hospice but did not know if you would survive the transfer. So we held you, right there in the pediatric intensive care unit as they removed your tubes, always in the back of my mind was the thought -what if she breathes on her own, what if. A saying that will haunt me forever: what if. But you did not breathe on your own. Your dad and I held your amazing, precious little body until we could not. We walked silently back down that cold, white corridor for the last time and drove in silence for the last time that long treacherous drive home; never to see you again. Never able to drive again without thinking of the first, the last and the fifty lonely drives` in between trying desperately to see you.

That is what I think of as I drive.

Thanks for reading

Namaste,

Sheri

My Heartbeat Songs

“I think of you, and I’m not afraid”

poor baby

This first song, is a song  I listened to over and over on my drives to and from Children’s hospital  it gave me hope. That we’d be together through distance and time. Countless times after you left, I still do hope to see you again.

 

lb

 

hayd lily

The 1rst time I heard this song was after you died February 18 2012 17:05pm. The lyrics really struck me. Especially – “Mid February shouldn’t seem so scary it was only December, I still remember the presents, the tree, you and me”… I Miss you lily Bean.

 

Vancouver-20120119-00042

home

We heard this song often while you were here on earth but most noticeably at your bedside on the day you died. You told us you wanted to go home, and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

 

ballon

Happy 4th Birthday my little angel xooxoxoxoxoxo

forever & always your mom

Life is Grief

When tragedy or loss strike; grief comes full force after the shock fades, it turns the world upside down,  a new universe in which you are scared and alone, one where lies are revealed, truths are sought, feelings broken, hearts shattered, lives and friendships torn by reality.

Grief  now makes it appearance at every birthday, every anniversary every holiday, every season ending or beginning.

Your life is now grief, grief for the kids that are no longer little or there, you grieve them growing, you grieve the little moments that once were so tiresome but are now gone, forever. You grieve your past, your failures, your regrets, your wants that went untold or unfound. You grieve what you had but lost and also what you never had but desperately wanted. Life is grief.

 

Why I Hate September

Why I hate September;Fall and Winter….

Sept 2011– My nightmare begins. I was 6.5mths pregnant with my 3rd child. I started having terrible thoughts, feelings of anxiety and despair I didn’t know what was wrong with me- just that something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

Sept 2012– My daughter has been dead for 7 mths. I should be planning her 1rst bday instead I am hiding my tears from strangers.

Sept 2013– My 2nd daughter was born 5 mths ago. My 1rst daughter died 1yr 7mths ago. I hate the Fall and Winter months. It will soon be my 2nds daughters 1rst Christmas…. my 1rst daughters 2nd b-day would be right after Christmas… her 2anniversary of her death 2 months after that.

Sept 2014 – I feel the dark clouds hovering in the back of my mind. So resumes my grief, rolling back into view. My anxiety returns full force. My nightmares make a nightly appearance. My 4am crying time return. Lily should be starting preschool this Sept. That is hard. Then follows my 3rd birthday without her. Her 3rd birthday without us. Halloween, Thanksgiving, Remembrance day is even hard, but Christmas, her b-day right after that and New Years are the worst. If I didn’t have other children I imagine I’d run away from Sept to March every year to live in a hut in Tahiti or anywhere far far away to escape. Escape the voices of guilt, regret, loss and loneliness. I hate September.

My Angels Candle-“We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.” -Kenji Miyazawa

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Some quotes that help make sense of grief.

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love.”
-Washington Irving

“Guilt is perhaps the most painful companion to death.”
-Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

“What we have once enjoyed deeply we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.”
– Helen Keller

“Those who have suffered understand suffering and therefore extend their hand.”
– Patti Smith

“You can’t prevent birds of sorrow from flying over your head- but you can prevent them from building nests in your hair.”
-Chinese Proverb

“We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.” -Kenji Miyazawa

Lily Emma Olive Hall; A Precious Moment in Time.

July 12. 2013

I do not understand why I have gone through this, why any mother/parent/sibling goes through these tragedies, I understand the science of why things happen, I understand no one is exempt from tragedy, I understand we all will die one day, I just don’t understand why we must endure such pain to have our eyes opened to the realities of life, love and hope. I hope one day I will see my sweet lily bean again. Until we are together I will always think of you. Miss you. Cherish and remember you.

A quote read at Lily’s funeral:

“Our little darling will no longer be with us in the body, but her memory will dwell with us as long as our lives last”

-Author Unknown

Another quote that has helped to heal me:

‘When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.’

-Kahlil Gibran