Happy Easter, Buddy

Hey Buddy,

I hope you are getting excited about the Easter Bunny! Only 3 more sleeps, as your brothers say. I have been searching for days for the perfect flowers to take to your garden at the cottage and nothing seems right.... Oh, how I wish it were chocolate and sand pails and chalk and bubbles I was picking up for your Easter basket. Miss you, sweet boy.

I saw this on facebook and had to share. Speaks to the heart:


Dear Easter Bunny,

I just had to write today to see if you'll stop in heaven as you hop along your way? You see part of me is up there that I miss with all my heart,
You see my son is up in heaven and my life is torn apart.
So when you take his egg up there,
Please whisper in his ear....
Wish him Happy Easter and tell him, Mommy loves him so dear....
as I wipe away my tears.

-B.J.KarrerSee

Memories ~ the good, the bad and the worst

I don't if it's our conscious mind or subconscious mind that is in control of keeping the bad memories at bay. I do know that most days - two + years out from holding Nicholas in my arms and saying goodbye as best I could - I consciously try to choose to remember the good memories. The memories that make my heart smile. The memories that make my soul feel warm and at peace. His face, his toes, his smell...

Then, out of the blue, the most horrific memories emerge... they wrestle with the good one's and force their way to the surface. The feelings are unstoppable. Intense and without warning.

Obviously, there are a lot of heartwrenching memories about the time we were given Nicholas' diagnosis and prognosis. Obviously, there are moments, lapses in time, I would much, much rather forget...and I do, for the most part. The defense mechanism of the human spirit. To cloud the traumatic remembrances and highlight the love. To repress the most horrifying experiences and hold high the joy and the reverence.

I still find that concept so disorienting. Hard to put into words, really. The ability our brains have to hide the darkest moments of our lives. It's when those memories are triggered for some reason or another that our conscious fails us... fails our hearts... fails our peace and contentment...

I've been having flashes. Words can trigger them. Feelings can trigger them. Smells can trigger them. Insensitive people can trigger them. The memories are somewhat blurred, yet so achingly real.

There is one memory in particular...one before I was induced to birth my dead son. I don't talk about it often. It's not something anyone wants to know. It's not something anyone wants to deal with. It's the moment our son died. The moment I felt his last kick on the right, lower portion of my belly. The moment all hopes and dreams for Nicholas were taken. The moment I can hear the doctors talking back and forth while looking at his beautiful picture on the screen.... The moment when the tears wouldn't stop and the sobs escaped me as I prayed for my little boy. It's the moment that haunts me... the moment that threatens to destroy my very soul.

So, I am grateful for the resiliency and the protection of the human spirit. I am grateful that most days I am able to remember and honour Nicholas in meaningful and positive ways. The flashes are deafening for a few moments, but Nicholas' beautiful presence in our hearts and in our lives allows me to work through those moments and share his legacy around the world.

200 Followers (almost)

I just realized that Nicholas' Touch is almost at 200 Followers.

I am so honoured that Nicholas' story... our story... of pain, grief, strength and hope is being shared throughout the world.

Thank you all for your support.

xx

Spring has sprung

Coming off a fabulous weekend. The weather was actually "spring like" and I could feel the difference in the sun's heat. The kids had a blast. Road hockey, bike riding, chalking, tag, parties and tons of laughter. My heart needed that. The winter has been really long.

Then there's today. A guilty day. A day where I feel like it was horribly wrong to enjoy myself so much. Why should I deserve to enjoy myself? I have sinned. I "let" my baby die. I couldn't keep him safe. I let him down.

I realize these are 'irrational' thoughts. I realize that if there was anything at all I could have down to save Nicholas, I would have done it a million times over.... but there is always that nagging feeling of accountability. The feeling that it doesn't matter if there wasn't anything I could have done differently... I am his mother. He put his trust and faith in me.... and I let him down. My beautiful, red-headed, soft-smelling, precious, baby boy.

I write these words in honesty. In pure, raw and candid emotion. I share in hopes others can relate and realize that it's natural to feel this way, even if the feelings aren't truly warranted.

You can't dictate what your heart feels. It speaks the truth... sometimes it's a truth that is not understood or even accepted by some. But to those who "feel" it... those who live with heavy burdens in their heart everyday, they are real. They are true.

Sometimes I find myself succumbing to the guilt. Sometimes I feel like I must, in order to honour Nicholas. Ridiculous, I know, yet incredibly genuine.

I look forward to enjoying many more beautiful, warm, sunny days ahead. I may hold onto some of the guilt, some of the wishes, dreams of watching Nicholas toddle along the sidewalk.... but I will also soak up that sun and and thank him for the hand he has in sending it to us.

Love you, baby.

Mommy xx