Written By My Mother for My Brother

My Son's Eulogy by Patricia A Guagenti- Auvil

My son hated to see me cry. Whenever I did, he would say please mommy don't cry, I'm sorry, It's okay. Even if he didn't do anything wrong.
He was the most amazing boy, but he could never see it. If I had been in Iraq with him, I would have wanted to be his best friend. If I was a girl in high school with him, I would have been crazy in love with him. He felt undeserving and unworthy. He felt he was ordinary. Well, my love you were anything but ordinary.
In that one moment, that one brief moment, he couldn't find the light anymore. He just couldn't make it through one more day. I can't be angry at him for doing what he did. I'm grateful for the time he gave me, his father, his sister, his brother and all of his family. I'm grateful today that my son isn't tormented by his mind and the pain in his heart. So I ask you not to be angry and know that today he is at peace.
So whether it's a month from now or a year. Whenever you smell patchouli, hear a Sublime song, or see a really good looking guy in a hat, think of my boy and smile.
Well my love, my amazing, amazing boy, I put my big girl panties on and kept my shit together. I hope you're proud of me, because I sure as shit was proud of you.

For My Brother

It's been a long time since I blogged.  The last time I blogged was February 24.  Who knew in just 32 days my brother would commit suicide.  My life has been even more turned upside.  My sibling, my blood, my brother, my friend, my hero, took his own life.  People joke about suicide all the time.  They think it's harmless and it usually is, but I don't find it comical or amusing any more.  I miss my brother so much.  All the time and it hurts.  Loss by suicide has to be the hardest loss there is.  They killed themselves.  They ended their life.  It leaves you feeling like you failed, like you didn't do a good enough job in the role you played in their life.  Watching my parents now, it just about kills me.  They love him so much and I can't be sure he truly knew the depth of their love.  But he was in pain.  People do not understand just how much pain he was in.  Truthfully, I don't fully know the depth of his pain.  I just know, he is not in pain any longer.  And for that, I am so grateful.  I could never ask him or anyone else I love to remain on this Earth with the amount of pain and burden they carry.

I can't sit here and pretend I knew my brother inside and out.  We were close, but only until we were about 16 years old.  We are only 13 months apart so when we hit high school, we started really becoming our own people.  Our closeness weakened because of different friends, different interests, after school jobs, etc.  But we always came back at the end of the day to be a family, to be brother and sister.  I remember so much about my brother now more than I ever did over the last 5 years.  I know how much he loved Bob & Ziggy Marley.  How much he loved hippy apparel and the free spirit life style.  He loved the word "fuck" and actually had "fuck yeah" tattooed on his fingers.  That is until my mother had him tattoo over it so he could be appropriate for the work place. He and I shared a love for Blink 182, Linkin Park, and Green Day.  'Boulevard of Broken Dreams" by Green Day reminds me of him so much, because I feel all the dreams he had were broken by his PTSD.  "Adam's Song" by Blink 182 is a song about suicide and we knew it then, and the connection now between him and that song is truly unreal.  It's the oddest connection.  It has come on the radio a few times and honestly, I hadn't heard it in a very long time until after he passed.  Maybe 2 years? I remember that we used to play together often.  My brothers with their Legos and me with my Barbies.  I remember going to a bon fire with some of his lacrosse friends one night and we both just got so drunk. It was so funny because we hadn't done that together ever.  I remember watching him play lacrosse, and he just kicked butt.  He was so tough and talented.  I wanted a scholarship for him so bad so he could play lacrosse.  It was such a good outlet for him.  All this and more, I remember. I remember him everyday.
The day he was found, March 23, was a day I do want to forget.  I was at work, and Randy called me and told me he had Braedy.  My parents were supposed to have him.  They were taking him to see "The Croods" and he was going to spend the night.  Randy and I were going to go on a date once I got off work.  It was about 4pm when he called and told me this.  My parents had had an emergency and Randy was outside washing his car, he didn't answer his phone, so they dropped Braedy off at the Colgan's house.  Randy finally had saw they called and called back.  He immediately went to pick up Braedy and he called me.  I remember telling Randy how odd it was that they just dropped him off in the manner they did.  I knew in my heart almost immediately, any emergency they were seeing to, had to involve my brother.  I still find it really weird that I knew in my heart and soul, that something was terribly wrong.  I tried to go back to working, but at about 5pm, I called Randy and told him I wanted to come home.  I said, something bad happened.  I just know it.  Randy told me not to think that way and just keep working.  Braedy, him, and I could go to dinner when I was done working.  I hung up and went back to work.  At about 5:30pm, Randy called me again and told me my parents were at the house and they wanted me to come home now.  I said of course and called my coworkers and boss and told them I had to drop everything and I go.  I remember uttering something about my brother and maybe he had tried to hurt himself.  I just had this feeling.  Like he was here with me already trying to prepare me, or in reality, I just knew he couldn't hang on any longer.
I raced home.  I pulled up and my dad was outside.  He followed me inside the house and didn't really say anything other than hi.  My mother was pacing around the living room and she had been crying.  I said hi to her and noticed Randy's eyes were red.   My mother took my hands and stood in front of me and told me my brother shot himself in the head and he was dead.  I screamed no about a hundred times and collapsed on my mother who began to cry uncontrollably as well.  We even started to ramble on about little things about the funeral and about the days ahead.  I could NOT believe we were talking about this.  I still can't believe that day happened.  I found out later that he actually had killed himself on March 22, but was not found until March 23.  This made me sick.  He had been lying there all alone.  Without anyone.  His roommate and my ex-boyfriend are the ones who found him.  It breaks my heart it had to be them.  That it had to be anyone.  His roommate Tyler was also one of his best friends and I pray for him daily.  What he saw, what he had to endure.  It breaks my heart he had to see his friend in that condition.
So much happened that first week after.  Aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends, cousins, siblings, and more all poured in from everywhere.  There was over 300 people at his funeral.  That boy was so loved.  I remember one of those nights, the night I made his remembrance video, I stayed up all night.  I never went to bed.  I didn't sleep for about 40 hours those two days.  I couldn't.  I kept crying.  It was an endless stream of tears. We had to meet with one of the military officers regarding his financials and what not, seeing the "deceased" wording on those documents, the sensation that came over me, I can't explain it.  I was so disgusted by it.  I felt like THEY were saying my brother was dead.  I felt it was their decision or their fault or something.  Everything seems so foggy now, but little bits and pieces stick out. I remember one of the days going to the house to see my mom, and she had already blown up one of his pictures.  Then I saw the announcement on the funeral's home site.  I had about 46 unanswered Facebook messages for a few days.  I knew what I was going to read and I couldn't stomach it.  The night I was making the video, I couldn't even move or speak.  I remember sitting on my couch at home for an hour, frozen.  When I got up, I got my keys and drove straight to my parents house.  All my uncles and aunts were up and were drinking.  I had a drink and we were all sharing stories and laughing.  I didn't feel as we should be laughing.  But my brother would be.  He always felt uncomfortable around sadness or death.  His humor was one of the best things, always laughing about inappropriate situations.  I admired that so much and miss it now.
The week of his death seems so blurry now, and the months since, I feel more broken, less alive.  I should be living because I can, but it just doesn't seem fair.  Why am I still here, but he isn't?  I will always miss him and I will always wonder the "whys".  I know they won't ever get answered, and they won't matter by the time I see him again either.  But if I could have helped, if I could have done something.  Would it have mattered? Would it have helped?  Would he have let me help?  As his big sister, I feel a lot of guilt.  The oldest sibling's job seems to protect the younger ones.  I feel I failed and I can't turn back the clock.  I miss him, everyday, all day. This post may seem like a slur of thoughts but it has helped to get this all down and out of my brain.  It's hard and it gets harder all the time.  I love you CJ.  SO much.

For Your Tears

I received this beautiful handkerchief in the mail a few weeks ago, but only recently had time to take a photo of it.  It is so precious and sweet.  To be honest, I am afraid to cry on it.  For now, I tucked it away in Miloh's box, but I think I may take it out in the future and put it in my purse because often I cry and sadly, I never have a tissue or anything and this would be so meaningful.  If you would like one or think a newly bereaved friend would like one, please visit this wonderful blog.  http://wwwforyourtears.blogspot.com/

His Story

To anyone just joining me here, I am aware that I have yet to finish writing Miloh's story.  It is just so hard.  I did so good there for a while with serious intimate details, but then it got hard.  It makes me cry to write it.  But I will finish it.  Obviously, I would not be here if he was alive so we all know the outcome of his life.  It is painful to write about it.  Hopefully within a month or two, it will be finished.  I hope you all understand.

Alanna Phoebe's Clay Names - Jonah

Jonah's name was recently uploaded!  I love this to pieces.  I love seeing his name, especially since we gave him one.  I miss him so much.  This is an awesome thing that is being done to remember children.  Thank you so much for honoring my tiniest angel. <3 To request one for your child(ren), please go to http://claynames.blogspot.ca/.

5-3-1=9

My son Braedy turned 5 on Friday.  His party was Saturday.  We were getting ready on Friday for it and Braedy brought me his candles and asked me to take a photo. I did. This is that photo.  These are his 1st, 3rd and 5th birthday candles. The 5th had not been lit yet at the time.  You can see baby teeth marks in his 1st candle which is uber adorable. ♥ His 2nd is packed away and he didn't have a 4th. But I was staring at this wondering why these numbers are like speaking to me. They seemed so familiar and just kept screaming at me to notice something.  And it hit me.
Braedy turned 5 on Friday. Jonah would be 3 this April. Miloh would be 1 this March.
5-3-1.
Finally it made sense and I cried.  It was unbelievable how this had happened.  For Braedy to bring them ALL to me in the first place, to ask me to take a photo of them? Just odd.  But SO right.
Then on Saturday, as I stared at this again marveling at it's beauty, I realized another thing.  If you add them, they equal 9. Nathaniel would be 9 in August. My babies were shining through their brother, there is no doubt about it.  I am grateful for these signs, when they do occur.  Letting me know my children are near.

Forever Loved Subway Art

A beautiful sweet woman named Angela so kindly offered to do 100 of these free of charge.  I was able to get them done for Miloh.  They are made to be able to print and frame, usually on a canvas, but there are many other ways you can creatively display this art.  It is called Subway Art.  You must visit her blog.  She has two beautiful boys, one on Earth and one in Heaven.  She is a very sweet woman.  She is currently offering a few more of these for free.  If you are interested, please visit her blog http://ourmiraclemattiaus.blogspot.com/.

Light The Night With Love

One of many beautiful photos taken on the evening of September 15.

A lantern release was organized by two beautiful ladies, one of whom I am friends with, her name is Amanda Hoyt and then by Small Bird Studios owner Franchesca Cox.  The release was held on September 15, 2012 in Houston, Texas.  They released lanterns in memory of babies & children who have all gone to heaven.  It was a magical day. I could not be there as I live in Hermiston, Oregon, but my babies were honored at this event. They plan to do this again next year and I hope they keep doing it every year.  I find it purely amazing when people find generosity and caring deep within and especially in the midst of their pain.  There were over 320 babies & children honored at this event. Many people came and participated in person.  If you would like to participate next year, there are a few ways to keep in contact.  You can subscribe to the event blog, http://lightthenightwithlove.blogspot.com/ and  Facebook page, http://www.facebook.com/LightTheNightWithLove.  I want to praise these two ladies for working so hard in preparation for this event and touching the hearts of many. When I saw my babies' names, I was absolutely in awe. What a beautiful tribute. Thank you again to Amanda & Franchesca.

In addition, here is a You Tube video link where you can go and view the release.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=paZEHh8SXG8

A Visit From An Angel

This is my 4 year old son Braedy.  He will be 5 on February 8 <3 We were taking photos and being uber silly on Saturday.  Last night I began to go through my SD card.  Low and behold, I find this.  My silly boy was jumping off the ottoman onto the rug and spinning around and dancing, pretty much being a goofball.  Well, someone we love very much paid us a visit.  In the green heart is an orb.  I believe in orbs.  I believe with every fiber of my being they are spirits of our angels.  I have seen them so far in 2 photos I believe.  The first time was when my brother Zach was hanging out with Braedy before he was leaving to the Navy.  The second time was at a birthday party for my niece, she was turning 1 year old.  And now this is the third time.  While I guess I cannot be sure which angel of mine is visiting us, I am going to assume it is Miloh.  I never really looked in photos before for orbs and then I never really talked of Jonah or Nathaniel much before either.  And then after I lost Miloh, I have seen them.  It will be a great gift if all three came to visit us.  They know they are always welcome.  We share a home.  Heaven is on Earth and Earth is in Heaven. At least, I believe that any way.

To My Little Miloh

I wrote this letter a year ago. I wanted to repost. So much can happen within just 12 months. 365 days. You wouldn't think so, but it does. <3

Dear Miloh,
I have been a very bad angel mom to you lately. I really have. I feel so awful. Life has been tough on me lately and it has strayed me away from you. I used to pray to God everyday for him to tell you things for me. I used to sleep with your hospital blanket every night, I have not done that in over a month. Your blanket fell behind our bed. I know it's there, but what I do not know is why I cannot get it from behind the bed. What is wrong with me? What kind of mother does that? I have not held your urn in about 2 months. I used to talk to you often, and I have not lately. I can't help but wonder if you were taken from me because you were too good for me. Why have I quit doing the things I was doing? I have stopped my medication again, I have not gone to therapy in about a month. I almost feel that I don't want to deal with this anymore and that is horrible because it's saying I don't want to deal with you anymore. And like I said, what kind of mother does that to her angel baby? I miss you so much and I feel so awful for the way I have been acting. I can't explain why I am doing it. I have decided to create a special Facebook page for you. Probably will work on it tomorrow, but I need a place I can go, that I can write down my prayers, that I can write letters to you, that I can share poems & pictures with others, that way I can always keep your memory alive. I love you more than anything and to this day, my heart is broken. It has been broken since the moment your father took you out of my arms and handed you to the funeral director. I don't think it will ever be repaired. How can it? I don't have you, you are missing from my life. But I am blessed for the time we got together, but I would so much rather still have you in my tummy growing and healthy waiting to be born in March. I am so jealous of everyone and their babies, and their pregnancies. What did I ever do to deserve this? I am really tired of trying to act tough & strong for my girlfriends and their growing families, truth is, I envy them, I am jealous of them, and I hate being jealous of people. It's not right to want what everyone else has, I should be grateful for what I have. I am actually grateful for everything I have, but I still want you. Sometimes I dream that this is a dream, well a nightmare, that when I open my eyes and look down, I will have a big belly with a baby kicking in there, that I will be decorating your room, preparing the house for a new baby. But it's not a dream that I can ever wake up from, it's a nightmare that I am stuck in for the rest of my life. I just want you to know that I love you more than anything. My heart is divided into thirds, a piece for your brother, a piece for your dad, and a piece for you, but I feel that piece for you, broke into a million pieces, I have some pieces left I can put together but you took a piece of my heart and I am more than okay with that. I just wanted to write to you and vent a little, and apologize for not being a good mother to you, and a promise to do better. I miss you over and over again. Tears are flowing right now and I hope with every drop you can feel that love and that remorse. ~Love you Miloh Brenner~ Always & forever

If You Must Ask

Some people wonder and even ask why it took losing Miloh for me to talk about and honor Nathaniel.  Not that this is inappropriate to ask, but it is simply no one's business.  It really isn't.  We all deal with grief differently for one thing.  How we think, feel, act, speak, it is all us.  Everyone is different.  If we were all the same, this world would be so boring.  I for one am not a follower.  I am not a copy cat, I am not one of the herd.  I am me.  My own person.  I do things how I feel I should do them.  My inner workings can only be understood by our heavenly father.  However, if people feel they need to ask this question, then here is the answer.
I lost Nathaniel when I was 16.  SIXTEEN YEARS OLD.  The age speaks for itself.  I was young, naive, selfish, ignorant, and scared.  When I had sex for the first time, who knew I would get pregnant.  Some of my girlfriends watch Teen Mom or 16 & Pregnant.  They wonder why I don't.  Well, no child should be having sex.  I know what it can lead to.  I also know you can attempt to prevent it, but it doesn't always work.  Babies shouldn't be having babies. I am ashamed of getting pregnant so young, but I am not ashamed of my son.  As a pregnant kid, let me tell you, when you have parents who are less than supportive, have hit you more times than you can count, and overall super strict, you are scared out of your mind to tell them you are pregnant.  I knew my mother would make me have an abortion.  When she found my birth control pills, she called me on my softball trip and threatened me.  So at that point, I could only imagine how our conversation would go about pregnancy and I decided to not tell my parents until I couldn't hide it any more.
When I lost Nathaniel, I was scared for my own life, having been in an accident.  I wasn't even thinking about him.  I felt like I was dying at the time and worried I would never see daylight again.  When they told me he died, I basically said I don't care, do whatever you have to.  I awoke with an empty uterus.  An experience I quickly wanted to forget.  The next day I realize he was gone and he wasn't coming back.  I felt sad, and I cried silently for a while, but then I realized, what a relief.  He is gone, I won't get grounded.  Better he gets taken from me this way than to have my parents take him away from me.  As a child, the loss of my baby was a relief.  I was not happy, but I was not devastated.  I know how I was then.  I know how I have been over time.
While things went back to normal for me really quickly after losing him, many things have never left my mind.  He is my first son, my first baby, I have never denied him, and I do love him. It has been 8 years later, and I do not mourn him, I celebrate him.  And yes, it took having Miloh for me to publicly speak of Nathaniel.  Why?  Because life is precious and I know how much I miss Miloh and how angry I am that he died, and I am so guilty of not previously feeling this way with Nathaniel.  I know so much I didn't know then.  And this is why I do not approve of teenage sex or Planned Parenthood facilities.  Kids are going to do what they are going to do.  Where there is a will, there is a way and with that said, I sure found a way to get treatment without telling my parents.  I cannot say things would be different necessarily, but it would have forced me to seek out the counsel of my parents instead of knowing I had a way around them.
I now live life remembering all three of my babies, talking about them equally as possible, but Miloh will always hurt the worst.  Knowing how I wanted a baby after Braedy for so long.  Seeing what anencephaly is first hand.  Having to birth a baby and never getting to take them home.  Going to a funeral home to pick up your son.  My heart has been cut out and it is going to take the rest of my life for my heart to heal.  Up until the last moment I cross into Heaven it will ache and cry.  That is the price of love.

PinWheels From Heaven

I love Shauna over at PinWheels From Heaven.  She has so tragically lost two baby girls and she knows this pain all too well.  I am just getting to know her, but she is so sweet.  She does a beautiful thing in honor of our angel children.  You MUST check out her blog and read about her sweet little girls and what she does in honor of them and all other children in heaven.  We angel mommas have to stick together.
http://pinwheelsfromheaven.blogspot.com/

Movie Recommendations

So I watched two new movies recently.  Well, new to me.  I highly recommend them.  The first one is called Everybody's Fine and it came out in 2009.  It is heart-warming and sad.  The dedication and love of a father whose wife has passed on, is now the only one left to check up on his grown children.  This is available on Netflix.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0780511/

The other movie is beyond hilarious.  It's called Since You've Been Gone.  It is a 10-year high school reunion in Chicago and it focus on many characters and how life has changed for them.  It has so many cameos and being since it was made when I was just a kid (in 1998), I missed it until now.  There are SO many funny parts, and there is some sadness, but it is a great movie to watch because we all grow so much in just 10 short years.  After watching it though, I can't wait for my reunion.  3 more years.  Well, any way.  I found this on Hulu.

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120135/

Mommy Loves You

Miloh Brenner Flowers 

Jonah Randee Flowers

Nathaniel Ryan Brown 

Sometimes, a mother just needs to say her childrens' names.  Just because they aren't here any more doesn't mean their memories suddenly disappear.  They were here and they do matter.  I would do anything to bring them back to where they belong. 

Words Are Pain

I have been in pain since October 2012.  Physical pain that is.  I started taking phentermine on September 10, 2012 and next thing I know, I am in pain.  Lower back pain, upper back pain, shoulder pain, and shoulder blade pain.  It is ridiculous.  I thought it would go away and it didn't.  I ended up calling a back specialist and got in middle of November.  He did a physical exam and diagnosed me with severely damaged ligaments in my upper back.  He said because I had lost a bunch of weight, I could finally stand up straight because the weight I lost, I had been carrying in my stomach.  He ended up prescribing me Lidocaine patches and physical therapy three times a week.

I went to physical therapy and I did what he said.  I only felt relief while I was there.  In December, I got really frustrated.  It had been about a month after the physical therapy began and they said I would see results after 10-12 sessions and he would re-evaluate me at session 14.  It was session 12 and I felt nothing. Only relief when I was there.  I told him I was pissed I was still hurting my right shoulder felt like it was getting worse and I was starting to have back spasms.  He then gave me Flexeril and Ultram and also Savella because he was starting to think I had fibromyalgia.  I never once felt the Ultram ever take my pain away.  Ibuprofen, acetaminophen, aspirin, nothing was taking this pain away.  My husband had left over Vicodin from his cortisone shot in his arm and I took that.  Finally I had relief, but go figure.  It was Vicodin. Duh.

I still wasn't feeling any better.  I decided to make up an excuse that work was busy and I couldn't come in for physical therapy anymore.  I decided to go see a orthopedist.  

I made the appointment and I was seen the last week in December.  They did x-rays and a blood test, something the physical therapist never did.  My doctor said that I have severe compression in my lower lumbar region which explains why when I move certain ways, I can feel it in my nerves in my spine.  It is so unbearable.  Basically all my vertebrae is compressed into one another.  He said it looks like an injury, but I have no idea how it would have happened.  He also said I have a 2 inch gap in the middle of spine and apparently that happened during growth development.  He also said my neck is a bit swollen and and stiff.  He diagnosed the compression as spondylosis.  He prescribed me Cymbalta and Neurontin as well as Vicodin.   I went back two weeks later to review my blood work and that was perfect.  He then told me he contact insurance and try to get me in for an MRI but he really things I have fibromyalgia.  

My insurance denied my MRI request because of lack of evidence of nerve damage.  I can't be sure if the Cymbalta is working yet.  I am just in SO much pain.  I cannot convey how much pain I am in to people.  I can't sit or stand very long.  I get tired of holding my head up.  My shoulder blades ache, sting, and burn.  If I turn my lower back in certain directions, it just pulls in a bad way.  My entire back, from the top of my shoulders to the bottom lower lumbar region, just HURTS.  Massages are temporary, heat pads are temporary, ice is temporary, Vicodin is temporary.  It's all temporary.

I am not sure what I have to do to get the doctors to understand how much pain I am in.  I mean, there is this spot in my shoulder where if you press on it, I scream bloody murder.  Was is that about? So I have had these issues for nearly 4 months now.  I didn't ask for these issues.  I didn't ask for this pain.  All I was trying to do was lose weight and be healthy.  So basically I get punished for trying to be healthy by being in physical pain.  That is how I feel.  And I feel like since I am not on crutches or wearing ace bandages, no one sees I am in pain so I get dismissed quite often.  The truth is, I am in pain and I hurt.  

It hurts even more when people say I have a lot wrong with me.  Yes, people actually say that.  My FRIENDS and my HUSBAND have said that. My husband has stopped saying it since he realized how much it hurts.  But to be told that there are a lot of things wrong with you or I go to the doctor a lot, or I am always on some sort of medication or for being so young, I have so many problems.  These words mess with your damn head.  I literally have a complex now.  I am crying typing this.  But since I was 19, I have always had something wrong with me.  I DID NOT choose this life.  I did not ask God to give me these hurdles, but he did.  It is not fair for people to torture me with their words and say these things to me.  I get really irritated that people see me as a problem.  I wish they knew that they have the problem by being so bitchy and saying hurtful words.  I want to live.  I want to be here.  I am not a problem, I do not have a problem.  God apparently loves me very much and is making me as tough as he can.  I am doing the best I can with the life I was given.  I will be damned if people won't see I am trying my hardest to fix my medical problems and find answers.  So basically, people need to THINK before they speak.  Words hurt.  They can scar you forever. 

Our Story

This is a story special to my heart.  The  love story of the relationship between my unborn baby & me.  Miloh was a huge surprise and a beautiful miracle. Our time was cut short as decided by God. I make sure that by telling our story, I really go into every detail  because one day I hope to bind it for my personal keeping.  He grew inside of me for 18 weeks 3 days and I found out about him at 3 weeks 6 days.  The minute that stick turned positive, I knew I was in love and he was something special. It broke my heart to return him back to God and it has taken every ounce of will I have to keep moving forward when all I want to do is collapse on the floor.  I just miss him every day, but I have come to realize that my baby is in Heaven under the care of Jesus waiting for me, and my Braedy is here and he needs me every second of every day while he is still here and breathing.  I have been reminded of what there is to live for and what to not let pull me under.  But the day I walk into Heaven and pick up my baby from the nursery is the day I will stop grieving.  I won't ever stop crying over him when I feel the need to, or saying his name or remembering him.  It is a mother's job to care for her children, even the ones we no longer can see. And for this reason, I tell our story.  <3Miloh<3

My Child is Dead

This was shared on Facebook today and it is totally perfectly worded.

"What happens in the "My Child is Dead" club should be known by everyone in the Universe. This is not fight club. This is I can't believe I'm living this nightmare club.

The club shouldn't be a secret. It shouldn't be hush-hush. It should be talked about, shared, supported and know across the land. We are hurting. We need love. Understanding. Non-judgmental and unconditional support. We need to be listened to, not told what to do or how to feel. We need time. We need tissues. We don't need to eat, sleep, 'get over it' or 'move on'. We don't need to hear how much better off they are, how it was somehow for the best or at least they didn't suffer or are no longer suffering. WE are suffering. WE are hurt. WE need to walk our own road, at our own pace, in our own way. WE will never, ever be the same. We are not bad, stupid or neglectful parents. We are parents who loved our children and now they are gone. Time may heal, but it doesn't cure.

Joining a club is typically a positive experience, one made voluntarily and with great enthusiasm for the subject. Not so with our club. We are a unique group. We are the club no one ever wants to belong to. We are the person you never want to be. We are the person some of you can't handle being around, because we 'bring you down'. Because YOU can't deal with our pain. We have no choice. We are parents who've had to bury our own children. We didn't expect to join this club and we are beyond ticked that we had no choice but to become a part of it.

So, what is the club like? It's a living hell. You've not known pain until you've held your dead child. Until you've seen their tiny lifeless body in a casket. Until you've attended their funeral, buried them and came home without them. You can never, ever know what it's like unless you've experienced it. Don't ever pretend to *know* what it's like. Don't ever say you understand how that person feels unless you've lost a child yourself. Even then, your experiences and feelings could be very different. That which comforted you may not provide any comfort and in fact may anger another person. Please think before you speak.

There are certain 'trigger days' when you can expect a resurgence of emotion. They are the difficult days. Today I had one of these "trigger days" I could barely stand, think or move. But I AM allowed this time.

Welcome Newcomers!

I had to start a new blog because of some people harassing me.  Just lovely huh?  Any hoo, I am so excited about redoing it because I am getting ready to re-open a page I once started and I want this blog to sort of go with that.  I am so excited for the things I want to do for other child loss/baby loss parents.  I have ideas pouring out of my brain it is crazy.  It has now been 15 months since I lost my son Miloh due to anencephaly.  I will be posting his story and details soon.  I miss him so much.  I found myself panicked yesterday evening out of no where. I just cannot believe it is 2013 and he was born in 2011.  I feel like I am leaving him behind somehow.  Not sure why I felt this way exactly.  It came life a wave like grief normally does.

I plan on using this blog for many purposes.  To remember children in heaven, to remember my own children in heaven, to express my feelings and emotions I endure daily, to share my son here on earth, and to hopefully help others and make a difference.  I am excited to do this. I have so much to share. I have endured a lot of pain and sadness over the course of my life. But of course mixed in with happy life changing moments and wonderful experiences. My life was given to me and me only. I have to live to it, and only I can live it in a way that is best for me. Much love & thank you for reading my first post.