Time Stopped

On the 6th April 2012 at 7.46am, our world stopped turning.  We stopped seeing the sunshine and only  noticed rain.  Instead of standing under sunbeams, we now walk under the clouds. 

Not many people know this, but the morning after we returned home from Yorkhill Hospital, we noticed our livingroom clock had stopped.  The picture above is the exact clock, untouched since it stopped at 7.46.  It symbolised so many things for us.  Our world would never be the same.  The clock stopped.

Although my brother had noticed the clock had stopped a few days before Haydon grew his wings, he didn't think anything about it.  He used his mobile to check time in his world.
We checked the batteries, and the batteries were fine.  The clock had just stopped.

Coincidence?

Since that day, seeing my son leave the world I am part of, I have held onto the fact that my clock stopped.  I hope and I pray that the clock stopped because my family of angels were telling us that they were waiting to collect my son.  I hope they knew he was coming and were ready to love him for me.

Since that day 12 weeks and 4 days ago when Haydon left us.  My world has stopped.
I cannot hide it.  I struggle to face every single new day.  I don't cope with tomorrow's, an entire lifetime seems unachievable now.
I am aware that i continually tell the world how sad I feel.  I am aware that some days my mask stays upright longer than others.  But I am not the person I was, I will never be again.  I wish I could be 'happy' and show others that I am strong, I am brave, I can do this.  But, I still don't know if I can.  Some days I think I may be able to.

We are not strong, or brave, nor do I want people to admire us.  We have lost our son.  Our clock stopped.  We do not have any other choice that is viable, except to try and live.  Live but not feel alive.
We get up in the morning because we have to.
We face the world because we have to.
There is nothing admirable about losing your child in your arms, the ache you live with in your heart, and you have to go on regardless of how you are feeling.  As I said, no other choice is viable, as much as it may cross my mind.

The clock stopped for Jim and I.  But we help each other to create a new world, a new world that will revolve around the stopped clock.  This is not easy, in fact there are no words to describe how difficult this is, but we will try for each other.

I have acknowledged that 12 weeks and 4 days on that I don't feel any better, somedays I feel worse.
I am making an appointment at the doctors to discuss how I feel, because I struggle with the stopped clock, and I struggle with tomorrow's.  Somedays, most days, I still want my clock to stop.
What is 'normal' for this kind of grief? I don't know.  They probably don't know either.

I couldn't get an appointment today, but I will try again tomorrow.  I need hope that my clock will start again.

I will keep trying.

Mummy loves you bubba, her perfect little angel in heaven, she just does xxxxxxxx more than life itself.