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


Monday, November 8, 2010

it just hurts…

Depression…

It’s not really a place that I’ve cared to stay in for very long. Infact I usually try to jump right out of it. Usually it comes with the

changing of the seasons, from Fall to Winter. Falling back usually always brings more darkness not just in that the sun goes down

earlier each day and the days get shorter, but that it also causes darkness to settle in my heart. I’m no stranger to seasonal depression.

I’ve almost always had some form of medication to help me thru each winter, especially living that the beach. it not only gets dark there by

4:30pm this time of year, but it’s terrible weather too, you become isolated into your home. alone. Living away from the beach going on 4 years

now (it has FLOWN by!) I’ve managed to stay a bit happier, more of my friends are at home mom’s also, and I have groups that I have joined to

keep me busy, so the sadness has been there still in the darkness of winter, but not at all to the same extent. it’s been manageable. But

now…the clocks have just fallen back…we’ve gained an extra hour of sleep…and I’ve gained an extra hour of sadness in my days. the

darkness is enveloping me more and more each day. it is a physical battle to keep getting out of bed each day. why should I? I need a

reason to besides that I have to. I can take care of my children from my bed if I wanted to, only needing to get up to change the

occasional diaper and fix lunch and so on. I can leave my blinds closed, leave my bedroom door open, keep the light in my room off and be a

mom from the comfort of my bed. I could. I’ve been on medications forever now it seems, even adjusted the dosing after Conner’s passing and

it does help to keep me balanced and motivated most of the time. but beyond that, I have to realize each and every day that depression is now

going to be a very regular part of my life. it is one of the grieving steps that I have to walk thru over and over again. I have to learn to

accept it as a new part of my life and learn to function and live with it there. I have to consciously realize that no amount of depression

or anxiety medication will ever make missing my son a teeny bit easier. it won’t. I have to cut myself a HUGE chunk of slack…I have to

learn to be ok with where I’m at. Someday’s I won’t get out of bed for very long, but I will still be physically there for my kids, awake in my

bed, yet my soul will be sleeping…I have to be ok with that. I’m not supermom, nor am I even the same Sarah I once was. Searching for the

point to get up and do things most days is so different then who I used to be. None of it means I love my family anyless then I did

before Conner flew away from us. I have to give myself a break from expectations. Grieving is ugly. It is hard. It is messy. It is angry,

depressing, screaming and crying. It is organized chaos. It is the hardest job any mom has to take on. Pushing past the initial fog that

took over me after he first left us was hard work. I knew it was only temporary, that it was only a matter of time before the comfortableness

of his passing left me. and I knew in my Red heart that very soon it would become a mess. that soon I would have to give up the me as I knew

myself to be to find a way to move forward in this journey of grief. I knew I would have to be ok with losing friends, losing my job as

caretaker to my amazing son, lose the outlook and perspective I held as truth for my life, I would have to embrace change and pain and try

to find a way to mend my brokenness.

everything is different now.

every relationship is different and constantly changing and evolving.

each and everyday is harder then the one just before it.

each and every lesson I learn is more painful then the one just before it.

I don’t know at all who Sarah is, or will become.

I don’t know the purpose behind this pain.

all I know is I have faith…which by definition is belief in things unseen.

God.

He will get me to tomorrow if that is His plan.

I still love Him thru this storm, but make no mistake…our relationship has taken a HUGE leap of faith these days. I have to tell myself that

He brought me to it, so He will bring me thru it even when I don’t believe He will or can. I struggle knowing that He had the ability to

save Conner yet chose not to. I have to be ok that He caused this pain in my soul and my heart. and it is difficult sometimes. but faith in

what is unseen is what gets me thru it. Grace is what makes it a fraction easier.

I hate going to visit Conner at a cold, and wet cemetary, I hate that my thoughts often drift to where his body is now, and how it must look.

I hate that as a mom there is nothing I can do to take away this pain from my living children. I try to delight in each red sunrise or

sunset, in each red lego, or every red piece of anything that just shows up in my day…but it also angers me. that’s all I have left of him

right now. and it’s not enough. it’s not ok. I have to relearn boundaries in relationships and try to redefine some relationships that no

longer hold much in common any longer. I have to keep a level head and try to not react to each attack thrown at me or my family. I have

nothing but my own and my families own salvation on my mind and on the line now. our living family of 4 needs to one day be that

beautiful family of 5 again one day.

that’s all that matters.

that’s all that hurts me.

that’s all that motivates me.

it all comes down to faith.

I have to be ok with this ache. this depression. this pain. this fear. this plan. this blessing. this path. this 5 minus a beautiful 1, even though

it’s the last thing I wanted life to be. a life without him. a mom without her son. a woman without those she held dear. a person without the

friendships that I once thrived on, that I counted on. a woman of faith being ok with Gods call to be more…and to be open to the pain, to

find a way to gracefully walk thru this to fulfill whatever the plan on my life that He has. A wife learning to redefine a marriage to a man

in equal amounts of pain and suffering, and that one is not easy.

purpose

passion

faith

grace

depression

grief

pain

without

desperate

lonely

isolated

hopeful

loving

molding

creating

these are what define me now…

change hurts like hell

017

Missing him hurts like hell…

Life without him hurts like hell…

and trusting (faith) in this pain hurts like hell…

but I am choosing to endure it at the hope of being with him again one day

and having all this pain taken away…

for all eternity.

Love Love Love you bubby…missing you desperately

Red heartMommyRed heart

5 comments:

  1. Accepting what you can or cannot do or feel now is a good step. Do not put expectations on yourself. We are complete different people now. We know we can never reach that place of pure happiness like we have in past. We have to accept a new normal and be proud of ourselves to just reach "okay-ness". Thank you for sharing these deep feelings.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Baby steps, you're doing great. If you can't get out of bed, welcome and cuddle your little ones when they come to you.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Sarah, you are taking us on this journey with you. Thank you for that. You are open and honest which we need to hear. Life is not rosy nor will ever be for you. It hurts like hell, every thing, every moment of every day. We saw a beautiful sunset tonight. The kids were in the back seat. I said I wonder if Conner is saying hello to us. Mason said Conner was saying hello, of course. We are tryly blessed to be a part of your families lives. Conner will always be in our hearts. LOVE and HUGS!!

    ReplyDelete
  4. I really have no words of comfort or anything like that. I truly think that one of the hardest parts of knowing God is knowing HE could heal when He chooses not to-
    It's one of the parts I struggle with as I read verses in the bible about folks touching Jesus and being healed by faith. Why not our loved one?? I just really don't know. Why not Conner? I have no idea.

    You inspire me with your faith and I truly am in awe on the way you remain focused on God's good when you are facing a mother's worst nightmare.

    Please know that I am always praying, always hoping for you for a smile or two each day and always thanking God that I found you and your beautiful words -they have truly touched me.

    xoxo
    Julie Ball

    ReplyDelete
  5. I read your blog. I and my wife have also suffered the loss of a son, our firstborn - though this was some time ago and ... well....
    Sarah - each day is Today and each Today and the things that are within that Today are often overlooked and sometimes eclipsed by our "dreams" of Tomorrow. Today is enough for the day. Tomorrow itself is a dream as no one ever lives in Tomorrow - there is ever only Today. Hold Today, and those within it, very tightly for as long as Today lasts. Yesterday and Tomorrow are always distant but Today - and those in our Today - is what we have as ours.
    Shalom alekha, akhot. I have prayed for you. Yishmaeni Elohai (My God Will Hear Me) - Michah 7:7
    Shalom!

    ReplyDelete

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