Right Where I am 2012. 7 weeks and 4 days

I found the blog 'Still Life With Circles' - http://stilllifewithcircles.blogspot.co.uk/  via a friend, I have decided to write 'right where I am' and share it with the world. What an amazing page, and a fantastic way for others to share their experiences.
Reminding us that we are not alone with our grief.  Thank you x


Today is the 30th of May 2012, it is the start of a new day without Haydon, although I haven't yet slept to properly end the day before.  I have trouble sleeping.  My days bleed from one day into another in this timeless state, where I may nod off briefly but my sleep is restless, or I may try a proper night's sleep but I don't wake feeling rested.

I am living, but I am not alive.

The start of everyday is a battle, I get hit by a morning train.  This train makes me remember that I don't have Haydon, makes me realise I am starting another day without him with me.  The night times are just as hard.  I struggle going to bed and resting because my mind just won't switch off, this seems to be the time of day where my memories creep up and I relive experiences, where I ache for my son, where I remember how cruel the world has been to him.
My days are filled with writing, I write on my blog, I write poems to express how I feel, I write his life story, I write about the coincidences that have happened in my life since losing Haydon.  Writing is the thing that keeps me sane the most.
I read everyday, sometimes most of the day.  i read about other people's experiences, I read books about child loss and how to cope, I read books about the after life to validate my own beliefs because I need to believe this, I read books about how children choose their parents and know their contract before they arrive with us.  This is what I focussed on today.  I reasoned with myself that Haydon picked us to be his parents.  He picked us because he knew we would love him unconditionally, regardless of his issues - and we did/do.  He chose us because he knew we would never leave his side and would comfort him as best we could - we rarely left him for a second.  He chose us because he knew we would speak out for him and other babies that are unfortunate enough to be in his situation - this will happen, and we continually asked the doctors, we were Haydon's voice from the start.  He chose us because he knew that the memory of him will live forever, and he wanted us to hold onto every second that we spent with him because he was special, and we were truly blessed - this we can't help but do, he was our amazing miniature superhero.

I don't like leaving the house.  The world is a frightening place that is full of reminders created just to upset me and Jim.  I know this isn't entirely true, but it feels this way.

If I venture out for a day I am so aware of babies in prams, expectant mummies, complaining mothers, and crying children.  I ache with the pain of losing my son, I want him with me.  I would cherish him and value him and I would feel blessed, not frustrated.

If I go into a supermarket I see all of these mothers, but I also see the baby toiletries that I used to buy, the clothes I would choose for my son, the toys he should be playing with, and the maternity clothing that I have not long stopped wearing.  I walk around with the biggest lump in my throat and tears burning in my eyes.  I sometimes prefer to shop online, its kinder.

I spend my days thinking, and then thinking, and then I think some more.
To most people they would consider the thoughts 'random'.  But I know that I am shuffling through every single experience and emotion since finding out that I was pregnant with my son, right up until this day today and beyond now, my life when I don't have him with me.  I am trying to make sense of what happened.  I am trying to accept that everything has changed.  I am analyzing everything, because I don't want to feel responsible, I don't want there to be no reason for him needing to leave.
I question all the 'what if's', 'what could have been's', but the one I struggle with today is the 'What should have been's'.
I see others living the life with their babies that I should be living.  I have no other children, only 4 angel babies.  I have grief and pain to keep me company.  I have been advised not to try for more children.  I live without hope, I won't get a 'rainbow' naturally.

So there I am, stuck in the what should have been's.  Living but not alive.
My son took my thirst for life with him when he passed away, if that experience was living then I'm not thirsty any more.
He took my strength and courage, bit by bit, from the moment he was born and while he fought his fight, I have no reserves.
He took my heart and my passion, but I gave them to him when he was born, he was my heart and my soul, he was my passion.

So where am I?
Everyone tells me that time is the only thing that will help me to recover.  So I will hold onto this thought daily and hope that these people are right.  I will get up each morning and face the train, I will spend each day thinking and reading and writing, I will make the effort to go out some days and face my own personal agonies.  I have to believe and hope it will get better, because a lifetime with this depth of loss and heartache, is not Living.  I miss my son desperately, but I also miss 'me'.