It's been a while since I have posted. School let out a few weeks ago and I've spent the last two weeks cleaning and packing my room. I had to clear out my room because we aren't sure if we will still be living here in KS by then. Today was my last day of work for a while. I had planned on spending it with Cooper's adopted aunties doing nothing but that all changed when Michael had to have a last minute medical procedure done because of his knee, it was the second one in the last week. We've got our *fingerscrossed* that this one will last longer than 5 days because we are leaving on Tuesday afternoon to drive to Texas for his brother's graduation from BMT. I'm really hoping that find something that help control the pain because 1) I hate seeing Michael hurt like that 2) I hate making almost weekly trips to various doctor's and physical therapy appointments and 3) I just don't think I'm going to be able to drive 10+ hours to Texas on my own.
I've been EXTREMELY frustrated with some of my friends. Friends who are not a part of the BLM community. I am so glad that they were there for Michael and I and I wouldn't trade them for the world. But sometimes I just wish they would get it a little bit more. I found this floating out there in the internet, read it and wished I had found it months ago. The bold is what someone else wrote, the italicized are my thoughts.
For those of you who have lost a loved one, especially a child, you will relate to the following list of 10 things to guide your friends through the tough times. Please share this information with others so they will know not only how to act... but most important, too act! Don’t avoid us!
By Virginia Simpson
1. I am not strong. I'm just numb. When you tell me I'm strong, I feel you don't see me.
Yeah this, doesn't make me feel any better. Watching Cooper get sick and fight for his life and then die, doesn't make me strong. Burying my 9 day old son does not make me strong. None of this makes me strong. I have to do this. I didn't ask for this, I don't want to do this. I didn't get a choice in this.
2. I will not recover. This is not a cold or the flu. I'm not sick. I'm grieving and that's different. I will not always be grieving as intensely, but I will never forget my loved one. Rather than recover, I want to incorporate his life and love into the rest of my life. That person is a part of me and always will be, and sometimes I remember him with joy and other times with tears. Both are ok.
I think this is the hardest for people to understand. We won't get over it. We won't accept it. But one day we will reconcile what happened. In 10 years we will still feel the same as we did the day you left us almost 9 months ago. We will still feel this strongly the day we die. This is hard for me to wrap my mind around. The pain is the same today as it was yesterday and it will be the same tomorrow as well.
3. I don't have to accept the death. Yes, I have to understand that it has happened and it is real, but there are just some things in life that are not acceptable.
This is also hard I know I havn't accepted what happened. But I do know and understand that you are gone and we won't ever have you in this life again. Yes, we will hopefully have other children but not Cooper. Losing him is not acceptable to me or my husband.
4. Please don't avoid me. You can't catch my grief. My world is painful, and when you are too afraid to call me or visit or say anything, you isolate me at a time when I most need to be care about. If you don't know what to say, just come over, give me a hug or touch my arms, and gently say, "I'm sorry." You can even say, "I just don't know what to say, but I care, and want you to know that."
I actually had people avoid me at work and this hurt. A coworker appeared to see me coming down the hall and she panicked and turned the corner. We have since 'made up'. She has a way of making me laugh when I need it. And I appreciate her for that. Also, please don't feel like you have to give us some amazing piece of wisdom that will give us peace or make us feel better. Because that will only happen with time. Don't feel like you have to say anything but if you would like to say something 'I'm sorry' is always a good start. AND under no circumstance is it okay for you to say that you understand or can relate unless you have lost a child. We didn't lose a beloved pet, a grandparent or an uncle or aunt. We lost our 9 day old son. And even if you did lose a child you can relate but you might not understand. I do not understand how Michael feels but I can relate to him better than anyone else because Cooper was our son. I do not understand what it's like to lose a child to a birth defect, SIDS or an accident but I can relate. I can relate when a parent loses their child to an illness and even more so to those that have been touched by NEC but I don't know what they feel like because it's still different. I make every effort when talking to those parents to tell them I can relate to some of the things they are feeling but I still don't completely understand what they are feeling.
5. Please don't call to complain about your husband, your wife, or your children. Right now, I'd be delighted to have my loved one here, no matter what they were doing.
Just don't. I don't even think I need to explain this one. Don't complain to me about about sleepless nights or being spit up on. I would love to be sleep deprived right now. Don't complain to me about your pregnancy symptoms. I would love to be having my rainbow. Just don't do it.
6. Please don’t say, “Call me if you need anything.” I’ll never call you because I have no idea what I need. Trying to figure out what you could do for me takes more energy than I have. So, in advance, let me give you some ideas: a. Bring food b. Offer to take my children to a movie or game so I have some moments to myself c. Send me a card on special holidays, birthdays (mine, his or hers), or the anniversary of his death and make sure you mention his or her name. You can’t make me cry. The tears are here and I will love you for giving me the opportunity to shed them because someone cared enough about me to reach out on this difficult day. d. Ask me more than once to join you at the movies or lunch. I may say “no” at first or even for a while, but please don’t give up on me because somewhere down the line, I may be ready, and if you’ve given up then I really will be alone.
And don't stop after just one time. The first time leaving the house after Cooper's funeral was miserable. And then it got to the point where we didn't want to be in our own house. We would wake up in the morning and leave for hours at a time. We once went to the theaters and saw 4 different movies in one day. It took about 6-7 months for me to want to leave the house without Michael or some other family member. And if Michael didn't go with me I would call or text him a lot, just to check in with him. I hated to be away from him for long periods of time. He went back to work before I did and I hated to be myself. I didn't really want to do 'normal' things with my friends for a very long time.. Please, please, please keep asking us or whoever it might be to do things. Or send a card in the mail. I loved and still love when people remember Cooper's special dates. Just knowing someone was thinking of us and took a little bit of their time to say that was wonderful.
7. Try to understand that this is like I’m in a foreign country where I don’t speak the language and have no map to tell me what to do. Even if there were a map, I’m not sure I could understand what it was saying. I’m lost and in a fog. I’m confused.
There is no guide for this. Every grieving parent handles it differently, even Michael and I. What works for him might not work for me and vice versa. And what works for me one day, might not work for me the next day either. The first few months I felt like I was watching everyone go by on a conveyor belt and continuing living their lives. I felt like screaming at them to stop and wait for me. And then one day I stepped out just a little bit to 'test' out life again. Some days I rode on the conveyor belt all day long and somedays I needed to get off. In the first few months we needed to take it day by day or even minute by minute. And even though 9 months later, we have made a lot of progress with our healing we are in no way better. For all we know tomorrow could be much worse. Please be gentle with us.
8. When you tell me what I should be doing, then I feel even more lost and alone. I feel bad enough that my loved one is dead, so please don’t make it worse by telling me I’m not doing this right.
Just DON'T DO THIS!!! I don't tell other BLM what to do. I don't tell them that something they are doing in their grief process is wrong. The entire idea of putting your child in the ground is wrong. Nothing about this is right. So don't tell us that we are doing something wrong.
9. Please don’t tell me that I can have other children or need to start dating again. I’m not ready. And maybe I don’t want to. And besides, what makes you think people are replaceable? They aren’t. Whoever comes after will always be someone different.
Don't do this either. And don't think just because a person might try again so soon after losing their child means that they are trying to replace them either. We won't ever get to have our Cooper again in this life. We have a Cooper shaped hole in our hearts and no child will ever be able to fill it nor do we want another child to fill that place in our hearts. Also under no circumstances is it ever okay to ask us when we are going to try again.
10. I don’t even understand what you mean when you say, “You’ve got to get on with your life.” My life is going on, but it may not look the way you think it should. This will take time and I never will be my old self again. So please just love me as I am today, and know, that with your love and support, the joy will slowly return to my life. But I will never forget – and there will always be times that I cry...
Michael and I won't ever be the same Kendra and Michael we were before Cooper. Don't expect that from us in the future. We are getting better every day, we have our ups and we have our downs. We are essentially learning to walk again. Please be patient.
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