My arms are empty and acheing...

I can’t believe I’m a mother without…

Life has been twisted and turned upside down. As a mother, I had both the wonderful privilege of holding my sweet son as I brought him into this world…and the horrible chore of holding him as he took his last breaths and left this world, at only 7 years old. June 24, 2010 he earned his angel wings, passing away after an inspiring but brief fight against Cystic Fibrosis. Now I live, solely focusing on living a life to get to be with him again in heaven, and to raise awareness for Cystic Fibrosis research. I am dedicated to a cure, not only for my sweet sons legacy but so that other CF families never experience the greatest loss of their lives that we are now facing. My mother’s arms are missing Connerman, yet he still inspires me daily to leave a mark of LOVE on this world…so for you my sweet prince, mommy will try!



Love Love Love

Always Always Always


Wednesday, September 22, 2010

I have nothing without you…

Well here it is.

Almost another Thursday.

I can hardly believe it’s been nearly 12 Thursdays since I had the awesome privilege of holding my sweet firstborn son, Conner. Thats 3 months already. I just can’t believe it’s been only 3 months. I thought I’d never make it to this point. It seemed so long to be without him. But let me tell you, I had no clue just how much of an understatement that would be.

IT FEELS LIKE IT’S BEEN FOREVER…

Like it’s been years. I can’t recall his scent. I can still hear his sweet innocent voice though. I still see his precious gap toothed smile in my mind. I still remember his touch. His gentle touch.

But…

I also remember too vividly that last day with him.

Like it was yesterday.

I remember seeing his pulse ox numbers start to dwindle…the last number I recall seeing was 65 before we shut it off. I remember seeing his skin paling and turning blue right in front of my eyes. I remember the heat from his skin slowly seeping away…his circulation becoming poor and his body starting to cool. I remember lifting his arms to hold his hands and his body was limp. I remember his last breath. I will never forget it as long as I live.  I remember how life felt so chaotic, how my brain simply couldn’t grasp what was fully happening. Yet, I knew it was nearly over. His suffering was nearly over. And mine was only getting ready to begin.

12 Thursdays ago…

I feel so far away from him. I don’t feel his presence as close as I once did. Almost as if he’s off helping other souls. I get that. But I miss him. If i can’t have him in the flesh…then I’ll settle for him in spirit…but I need him closer. So much is going on. So much he would be so saddened by. He no doubt is heartbroken to see his mommy and daddy in such great turmoil, so different. For sure he hears Hunters nightly prayers that Jesus would take the greatest care of his big brother and best friend. Surely Conner hears his baby B’s cries for “Conner Jones song” over and over again. Our lives are just so damaged. Beyond repair. Words could never give our grief justice. Not one thing in our lives right now is a constant except for God and our family of 5 minus 1. So much has happened in just weeks time. We’ve lost so much. It’s endless it seems…

We’re learning so many horrible lessons that I wished we never had to.

It still sometimes feels like it’s just a horrible nightmare.

I’m pretty good most days to keep myself busy so I don’t have time to sit and remember just how much I’ve lost. But in the silence, in the stillness of my heart, in the quietness of night…my soul knows. It remembers. I cry for him. I’m desperate for him. Some days just driving down the street I’ll start crying for him…sometimes I don’t even know I’m crying…all of a sudden my face is wet with tears. It’s just so common to me lately. I feel nausiated, I feel sad, I feel helpless, I feel a failure, I feel weak, I feel abandoned. It’s overwhelming to feel such extremes. People sometimes expect too much from me. Sure if we make plans, I’m going to attempt to look decent and try to put on my happy smily face…because I do have social manners. But if one was to spend an entire day with me…in the background where I couldn’t notice you…you’d see a much more realistic picture of grief. The grief of a mama for her sweet son. It looks more like this…

002

That’s my fancy diagram!

That is how I feel. I go thru a pattern of unpatterns. My emotions twist and turn each and every moment of each day. One moment I’m ok, the next I am overwhelmed in grief, the next I am crippled to the point of exhaustion, the next I’m ok and off to run an errand. It’s erratic. It’s crazy. It’s totally the complete opposite of who I used to be. Neat, tidy, overly organized OCD Sarah has no say anymore in my day. The new Sarah…well I’m learning all about her and learning to love her…but it’s complicated. I miss neat and tidy. I miss emotions being tucked nicely in my beautiful little package with the big pretty bow on it, on the top shelf behind all the books for nobody to know. That simply doesn’t exist anymore. That package has been exposed, crushed and thrown away weeks ago. I have no control sometimes over my emotions or what triggers them. Such a helpless feeling. Missing my son on top of that worsens it all. Learning to live with my husband in our mutual but totally different grief is even harder. Trying to hold it together enough to even slap a PB & J on the table for my boys for dinner requires total concentration. Learning to be ok with whose left in my life is another change. Learning that trust can be broken, and I don’t have to fix it. I’m tired living to please others and to make sure everyone likes me. Reality is not everyone will, and that is ok. I can only control myself. But it too is a change for me.

Everythings so different.

I love those who’ve come out of the woodworks and stepped up to be there for me. I was shocked who it would turn out to be, and who it would no longer be. But I’m ok with it. Change happens and you have to learn to accept it and go with the flow, or it’ll rule your life and hold you back. One of the many lessons I’ve been learning these past weeks…People I barely knew, or even never knew have stepped in when familiar and loved people checked out. A delicate dance, but it truly is still in perfect balance. I just had to learn to be ok with change.

I just wish I could’ve learned all this with my son still here.

Living.

Breathing.

Fighting.

Loving.

12 Thursdays… 3 months… 92 days…and countless hours, minutes and seconds…

WITHOUT HIM…

and truly I am NOTHING without him…

5 comments:

  1. Hugs Sarah! I haven't written in awhile but wanted to let you know that I am still reading each time you add a new post.
    It is so interesting that you mentioned becoming a new person and trying to get to know her. I wrote almost that exact same thing to someone when my twin boys were first born (at 25 weeks). The more I learn about the human condition the more I see how alike we all are, even emotions/feelings/thoughts that we think are so rare or unique to just us alone.
    Anyway, I digress. Just wanted to let you know that I am still here :). Thinking of you and your dear family.

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  2. I know you feel that way sweetheart. And I, would NEVER try to understand your heart and how you feel, but you are a tremendous person. So many you and Conner have inspired, those two precious boys at home and your partner in it all, your husband. I know what I see when I look at you, I hope one day you will see it too.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Always, always loving you and your family. You and yours are in my constant thoughts and prayers. Remember...you are never alone for he is always with you. He is your constant, carrying you through the difficult times and rejoicing in the good. And I believe when Jesus is carrying you, Mr. Connerman is perched right on top of your lap loving you, smiling, letting you know he is okay. He also may ask you if you've called any of the infomerical numbers he wrote down in his last weeks.;) Just kidding. I thought the latter would bring a smile, smirk to your face. Love you my dear. See you in the a.m.

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  4. Hi Sarah, Thank you for being so honest about your feeling.I know you are helping many people. I look at my own son who is 6 years old, and can't image losting him. I know if this was my situation I would be destoyed, My marriage, friends ect... I would not be able to handle it.. seriously. Praying for you everyday. ♥♥♥ Love, your Devoted Bloggie Friend : )Christina

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  5. Sarah, I don't think I've ever posted to you but I came across your blog just before your Conner died through some of the prune belly mamas. We've been praying for you from afar. I'm not sure if you know of them but I know they know of you, if that makes sense. Tiara's son Aidan died today. http://aidansfight.com/ I can only pray that I will find the right words to say to her though no words are adequate. I just wanted to let you know that we are still praying for you in our house.

    ReplyDelete

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