Wednesday, January 22, 2014

Breathing for Two

37 wks and 4 days was how long I was pregnant with my beautiful tiny man.  I breathed for him for 37 wks and 4 days.  He was safe, protected, held close.  I held him as my own, only mine, for 263 days.

My baby was by my side and in my arms for only 177 weeks 6 days.  I tried to breathe for him.  I tried to give him the fullest life he could possibly have.  We made everything bigger and better, we celebrated more, we snapped more pictures, we made every moment as huge as we could.  We provided the medical support to keep him breathing.  I literally lived for him, thru him.  I was him.  I spent 1, 245 days keeping my baby alive.  That seems so short when you break it down into days.

Here I sit, with empty arms for 38 wks, 3 days; the longest 270 days of my life.  My hands are idle.  My mind has so much information that isn't needed.  My senses remember.  Muscle memory is there.  Sometimes I hear feeding pumps beeping, and HR monitors ticking, and O2 machines swooshing; where there is none.  I find an old syringe laying around and next thing I know I have pulled the plunger back to just the perfect med dose of 3.3mls.  I can picture the squeezing rhythm I was taught on the ambu bag.  I see the dial on the stove and remember the dial on the O2 tank.  I think often of his doctors and nurses and how much I miss their voices, their laughs, the clicking of those dang cowboy boots as he walked the halls of the hospital.  I hear the sounds of the bed rails of the hospital bed, squeaking loudly no matter how quiet we tried to be.  I see the sign when I look at a kids book before the word.

I'm no longer breathing for me baby, some days I feel like I'm barely breathing at all.  Then I found read something.  Something that touched the very depths of my soul.

"Then I know with every breath you take You'll be taking one for me"
WOW.  Like WOW.  I'm always one to have words, but this is something felt deep inside of me, that words can't touch.
I'm breathing for my baby.

I knew something had to happen.  So here I am.  I've put in 35 miles this month.  I hit my longest run/walk ever at 10 miles in one workout.  Today I broke my fastest mile by 1m5s.
What is this all for?  I'm breathing for Eli, I'm running for Eli, I'm doing this for Eli.

My beautiful boys coffin was lowered into the ground on May 4, 2013.
I will be running my first 1/2 marathon on May 4, 2014.
I'm doing this.  We are doing this.  I'm breathing for Eli, although most days I think Eli is breathing for me.

After my big run the other day, one of my best friends said something that was heartbreaking and beautiful and amazing to me.
"May the pounding of your feet crush the broken pieces into something new"

Again WOW.  Speechless.

Lastly this week I saw a pin on pinterest.  "The cure for pain is in the pain."  WOW again!  Don't know how many times I can say WOW.

This all leaves me knowing I'm doing the right thing.
I'm breathing for my baby.
I'm crushing the broken pieces into something new.
I'm journeying thru the pain, not ignoring it.

Does this make it easier?  No.  Does it fix it?  No.  Do I still hurt more than words could ever describe? yes.

Foot to pavement.  Over and over and over.  The wind pounding on me at points.  The cold.  The heat. The rain.  The snow.  My lungs burning.  My muscles tired and sore.  My mind screaming stop.
My heart and soul screaming GO GO GO!!!
Running blocks the pain, running brings on the pain.

In closing..
"I keep so much pain inside myself.  I grasp my anger and loneliness and hold it in my chest.  It has changed me into something I never meant to be.  It has transformed me into a person I do not recognize; But I don't know how to let it go."

I will find my way.  My baby's wings will carry me thru when my feet can no longer move.

Always and Forever Tiny Man!

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