Wednesday, March 31, 2010
After working all day (I work at a daycare and run around after other children) you would think I would be exhausted. Somedays after work I can hardly keep my eyes open till 9pm. When I finally get to bed I am so tired that I am sure my head will hit the pillow and I will be out. That is not the case. Night time is when my mind wonders the most. All I think about is Jackson, the worst nights are the ones when I can see him with the tubes in and I can actually remember the sound he made when he was breathing. When I think about that I just cry, and once that image is in my head I can't sleep. I wish that wasn't the last image I had of Jackson, its the one that haunts me the most. I cry because the last 24 hours of his life he was hooked up to machines and in the hospital.Other nights I think about how my life will be without him, and I don't want to. I should be planning when my boyfriend and I were going to be adding to the family, not thinking about how even if we want to add to the family we should probably make sure Jackson's autopsy report is back to tell us if he died from anything genetic. I use to love sleeping, on the weekends my boyfriend would get Jackson for his early morning feedings so I could sleep in. Night time is for dreaming but all I get is nightmares....my life is a nightmare, one that I wouldn't wish on anyone. I just want my dreams back...
Monday, March 29, 2010
The Jumperoo. A gift from Jackson's Aunt and Grandma. The last big item that sits in my living room, the last thing that we need to put away. On Saturday while cleaning up the living room I thought to myself "I think I will put it in his room." I took a step towards it and started to cry. I remembered when I use to put him in it, we had to put a book underneath so that he had something to jump on. He loved it. I remember that I use to turn him around so that he could look at the other things to play with and he would get mad because he loved looking at the lion. He use to talk to the little animals on it. I would be fixing my coffee from the kitchen and listen to him. I wish I could hear him now...I wish he would wake me up again 6 times a night because he was hungry. I remember when he was 3 weeks old thinking there is no way I make it 6 months breastfeeding him. Every month I made it I thought I could make it the year. My favourite time was feeding him. Our time. Someday I hope that I will be able to put some of his stuff away but that time is not now....and I'm not sure when I will ever feel like it is time. So now the Jumperoo sits in my living room, the Monkey face on the seat staring at me waiting for Jackson to jump one more time....
The question that every mother asks herself. I still can't understand it. During my pregnancy I did everything right. I took my vitamins, went to my appointments, ate properly and didn't drink or take any medications that I wasn't suppose to. After he was born I loved him more then anything. He was my world and what a beautiful world it was when he was in it. Even when he got sick I took him to the doctor 4 times in a week because he wasn't getting better. I sat up with him when he was in the hospital and prayed for the doctors to save him when he stopped breathing. Why me? I did everything right and he got taken away from me only at 4 months. There are parents out there who have 6 kids running around that don't have enough money to put a roof over their heads but all their children are still alive. The question will never be answered. I try to make sense of it but I never can or will. When older people die I try to make sense of it, like they lived a long life, or they were suffering and now they won't. Jackson was only 4 months old, what do you say to that?
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Today is March, 27th 2010, and as I look at the calendar it will be a month since my son has died. Before Jackson died Sunday use to be family fun day. The day were my boyfriend and I would push aside everything that we needed to do and just be together and relax as a family. Now when Sunday comes I want to put my head under the covers and hope that day ends quickly and that Monday morning comes. I miss him so much it hurts somedays. I feel a pain in chest that doesn't go away, it really does feel like my heart is breaking everytime I realize that he isn't here and he won't be coming back. I want to hit rewind on my life and go back to that day and hope that something will change and that he didn't stop breathing in my arms. God I just think about that moment, every Sunday. I remember the day we brought him home and I was so nervous and scared, but so excited to have my beautiful baby boy home. I didn't get enough time with him and should be looking at the calendar and getting ready to celebrate his 5th month of life. Unfornately what I have discovered in this past 4 weeks is that life isn't what you always think its going to be or what its suppose to be.