What I Need

It's been a year and 2 months since the birth and death of my sweet baby girl, Eleanor. But, it's been 2 months since the birth of my son Elliott, the precious 5th addition to our crazy family. Since my latest son has been on this earth, I have been guilt ridden, because he has not really had his mother. He doesn't know who she really is. He doesn't know her laugh, but he knows her cries. He doesn't know her singing, but he knows her yells. He doesn't know her eyes, but he knows her neck. My sweet baby boy has had to be on this earth, with a broken mother. Her heart has been broken, and he can't fix it. No one can.

The last 2 months, I have tried to remember how to be a mother to an infant. I have tried not to be scared of him dying in his sleep. I have held him, and avoided his constant staring at me, for fear that I would fall in love with him, and he would be taken from me. I have had a short temper lately, because I'm completely overwhelmed with grief and fear, and I have had no outlet for it. So I hold it in, and let no one know that I am crumbling inside. I have always been the lady that has helped others, and been the problem solver for other friends' problems. I have been their listening ear, and their hug when needed. I felt like I still needed to be that strong woman they see me as.

It has been a year and 2 months since I lost my daughter, and it still feels like it was yesterday. I can still feel her hand in mine. I can still feel her inside of me. I can still feel the anxiety mount, every time I reached another mile stone in my labor. I can describe every detail of emotion that was coming that terrible day, and the days to follow. I can still describe every feature of her hair, hands and chubby cheeks. I can still hear the song, that was playing in my head, while I was holding my deceased newborn, the whole time in the hospital, and the night we came home (Come Thou Fount).

There have been few conversations with people, where they aren't completely uncomfortable by the idea of me talking about her. Friends will say, "tell me if there is anything I can do" or "call me if you need to talk". In that moment, when you feel compelled to say that to someone, who is grieving, that is probably the moment they need to talk, or need a hug from you. That is the moment when you, as the friend, need to push harder, and let them know it's ok to go there with you, that you aren't uncomfortable by it. I have actually, told friends, "I need a hug today", after talking or texting for 30 minutes, and gotten no response, no knock at the door, no phone call.......nothing. As with a lot of women, it takes a lot for me to tell my friends or family, "I need you", so when I do, don't shut down. Rise up, and be the friend you want to be known as, and be there with open arms, to listen, cry, hug, eat, whatever it is that I need from you.

The last few months, I have really shut down, because of the lack of response, when I finally do ask for help. I had decided to not even post on my blog. But my sister convinced me that I need it, and she is right. My blog is my outlet. My release. This is the place that I feel I can be completely honest, and not have anyone come up to me and give me the response of, "She's in a better place now" or "It wasn't meant to be" or "She was just too good a spirit to be on the earth". When I write, I am never going to have someone interrupt my thoughts with, "Have you ever thought about counseling?" or "Maybe you should think about some anti-depressants". I will never have to worry about having to console someone else's grief for my problem. I write my blog, because it's therapy for me, and with the hope that through my grief, and my honesty, it will help someone else. It will validate someone else's feelings, and they won't feel the loneliness that  have felt. I don't make it private, even though it is painfully personal, because, if my pain, and my vulnerability can help someone else take a breath from their grief, and realize they aren't alone, and someone else out there, feels the same emptiness, sadness, loneliness, and heart ache that they do, that it'll make them feel like they can get through it too.

If you are a friend, reading this, of mine, or of a person who has or is going through this, be there. Pry in their lives. Be overwhelming with the text messages of love, emails, cards, hugs, whatever you think they need. Let them know that they can be honest with you about their feelings, and let them know that it will be years before it is a little less painful, but you will stick with them through it, and always be there. The last few months, I have needed that. I have that from my sister, and from my great friend, Heather, but they don't live near me, so it's only phone calls. It's hard to get a hug over the phone. Haha! It's hard to have a girls night out, and let go for a bit, and be silly and happy again, when they aren't with you. But the phone calls mean the world to me. Because I know that they love me, and are taking that time, every day, to check on me, and have every day, for a year. They have busy lives, but they take time to do it. They can see through the smile, and know when I need a cry, or a vent session. I wish I had friends close by, who I felt as close to, or who I felt like I could go to if I just needed a hug, or a late night snack/venting session. But who knows? In time, maybe that person will come. For now, I can get myself through this. For now, it may be best to let go of the friends who just can't be the friends I need right now.

I am grateful for my sister, and my great friend, who have really helped me through this year. I wish they lived close to me, so that they were here with me. But, I will take what I can get. I love those ladies so much, and they have meant the world to me. Through their efforts, they have changed the course of my grieving, just by caring, and taking a few minute out of their lives, to just let me know they remember me. Something so simple, as a phone call, a text or an email, can change the course of everything.