Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Never Enough

Sometimes I try to get thru the day without thinking about Eli.  I don't pretend he never existed, I just simply try to turn off my brain to anything other than what is happening in the immediate moment.

At night I have no control.  The dreams flood me.  All being that night, that dreadful night that a chunk of my heart died with my baby.

At points during the day I even have no control.  My mind takes off.  It goes to my tiny man, it feels every thought and feeling and emotion with him, completely overtaking me.

Sometimes I can distract myself.  Find something else to quickly due, try to flood my mind with numbers, bills, budgets, kids schedule, all the mundane things of life, sometimes I can look around and see something that reminds me that you are with me.

Sometimes, most of the time, it's NEVER enough.  How can it be??

Today I went to visit Eli.  It was just me, so I got the infrequent mommy/tiny man alone time.  I spent a few minutes talking to him.  It used to feel strange talking to him, but now it comes so naturally.

Today was a bit different than normal.  I haven't been to see Eli for 3 weeks.  I just couldn't do it.  There are moments when I'm there that I panic.  I want to rip up the grass and start flinging the dirt as far away as I can.  I know that my baby is right under, that his body is so close to me.  I want to touch him, I want to hold him.  I know that this isn't possible, but it's so hard.  It's so hard to be feet above his body, his beautiful blonde hair, his tiny little hands.  I expressed to Eli my guilt over not visiting him, over trying to not think about him each day.  I talked and cried and cried and talked.

As I sat there silently with my face and arms soaked in tears, the wind all of a sudden came thru.  All 3 of his windmills began to spin, his butterfly wind chime went wild, making so many beautiful sounds, a yellow butterfly flew around the area, and the wind was so much it literally was drying tears along my face.

Sometimes these signs that he's with me make me feel ever so slightly better.  Today it wasn't enough.  The tears poured as my body shook with the sobs.  It wasn't enough.  It will never be enough.  The realization flooded over me that it will NEVER be enough.  The wind touching me, the butterfly flying, the memories (good or bad) will NEVER be enough.  I will never touch my baby again.  I will never see my baby's beautiful face.  I will never hold his hand.  I will never hear him laugh.  I will never stroke his hair and kiss the top of his tiny head as he lies on top of me sleeping.

Forevermore it will NEVER be enough.  I sat there shivering in the 95 degree temps as the realization washed over me.  My baby is gone and these moments of knowing his presence close by will NEVER be enough, yet they have to be because it's all I have.

We are coming into Mitochondrial Disease Awareness Week and the walk is this saturday.  We will be there, as painful as that will be, without our hero.  First time ever.

So many of our friends in the community are posting awareness info, statistics, info segments, etc to help raise awareness.  For me my message will be the same.  It's NEVER ENOUGH.  There aren't enough doctors who get it, there aren't enough hospitals to go to for help, there aren't enough meds, there are no treatments, there aren't enough supports, there isn't enough money, there isn't enough help, people are dying, families are being destroyed, babies and children and adults are hurting and struggling, there aren't enough moments, there aren't enough experiences, first days of school, graduation, weddings, grandkids, memories, pictures, anniversaries, birthdays, THERE ISNT ENOUGH TIME.  My baby is GONE.  So many of our friends are in the same situation.  They have buried there babies too.  There will NEVER be enough for us again.  Please help.  Please donate.  Please spread awareness.

How would you feel if it was NEVER enough for your loved one?  Time is precious, and it's up for so very many of us; to soon.

that's my awareness.  an empty room.  an empty bed.  our empty arms.  a filled coffin, buried in the ground, with only a headstone remaining.  sound harsh?  That's our reality.

Elias "Eli" Richard Tomkins
December 1, 2009 to April 28, 2013
Forever in our hearts
Taken to soon