2013 has robbed me of my very breathe, has broken my heart into a million pieces, and has shattered my soul. I can't wait for the year to end, yet I'm terrified to never again live in a time that my baby took a breath.
I came into this year a very different person that I leave it.
This year has seen brain surgery, many hospitalizations, the death of our beautiful boy, the burial of our beautiful boy, the loss of my husbands job, our finances in shambles as we struggled to pay for a funeral, our move home, and the struggles of our oldest 4 as they grow and learn to deal with grief. This is a very vague summary of what we have seen this year, but it hits the highlights.
Again I stand by what I told the doctors that night as my baby lay dying in front of me. I told them, "I will die with him, I will take my last breath as he does. I will die too". I did.
I died that night at 4:08am, I took my last breath.
My heart, my soul, my spirit were crushed.
I am still drifting, still gasping for air, still trying to find a place to grab hold, trying to find a sliver of who I am.
It is beyond hard to find a person in the ashes, to rebuild from such damage. The strength and willpower and determination that are needed to piece together the broken pieces is simply to much, right now it's not something I have.
The pieces won't go back together. They no longer fit. There are to many shards and splintered pieces, to rebuild. I am forever damaged.
My hope for this year is to find something. One piece that I can grow and latch onto and cultivate. One piece to begin building around. One piece of who I was, to begin building who I will be. That one piece will still be broken, damaged, tortured, but my past must move forward with me, as there is no other way.
That one piece must be memories, my love. The most painful piece to carry forward, but the one piece that I could never bear to leave behind.
I want to take this moment to thank you all for hanging in there with us during this most painful of years, 2013. I can't tell you how blessed we are to have you all in our lives, as I truly can say I wouldn't be where I am now if it wasn't for so many of you. We have gained friends, lost friends, grew friendships, and changed friendships.
I want to thank you for bearing with us, for allowing us to grieve, for supporting us no matter what. Very few have tried to change the course of our grief, many have fought for our rights to grieve, and almost all have held us up in our grief.
I would love to tell you that we are ready to take hold and do this on our own, but I'm not there. I'm trying. I truly hope that you see that I'm trying so very hard. I'm searching for something to grab hold of, something to keep me a float. There are days I think I'm almost there, days where I almost look real and whole and alive, even though I'm dead inside.
I promise to keep fighting, to keep moving forward. I will rebuild. I will.
Lastly thank you for loving us, for loving our tiny man. We never doubted how loved we were and how loved Eli was, but seeing the love and support these last 8 months has been overwhelming. We know our tiny man lives on in so many hearts around the world.
So here we sit. There are hours left of 2013.
My baby has been gone
8 months, 5 hrs, 45 minutes, and 4 seconds OR 35 wks, 2 days, 6 hrs.
The rolling over of a year won't stop that clock.
For good and bad the year has ended, and the new year is unpredictable. We sure learned how life can change in a single breath this last year.
I can only hope that this new year is gentler, we can't handle anymore.
It's time to rebuild. It's time to find something in the ashes.
2014 here we come; be gentle to our family and to our Mito community.
Fly high tiny man, but always stay close.
Always & Forever