Category: lovinglogan

My unwritten book

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I always thought 1 day I’d write about my experience with Logan…a full out novel touching on every emotion from the relief of hearing he made it through the night to the agony of his death. I planned on writing about how people couldn’t make eye contact with me and how careless words left scars deeper than the one that brands my stomach “tarnished”.
I even kept notes of incidents and emotions (notes I’m suddenly not brave enough to read.)
Tonight I can’t sleep and I find myself wondering what I’d write…would I start with how excited we were, how his room was almost completely ready and his car seat waiting? Do I talk about excited friends and family or the stranger who met my glance as I walked into the hospital and whose face is forever imprinted in my mind? Do I talk about the fear in my mother and sisters faces as they tried to keep my spirits up while we were still in the dark? Or Rob’s defeated,heartbroken eyes – that went from its usual playful green to this dull dead hue I will never forget – as he relayed the news.
How about the doctors and nurses who knew they were fighting a losing battle but could at the “very least” attempt to save me.
Do I talk about how I had to tell well wishers on social networks the bad news or how friends and family were called and how they were prepared for the worst. Do I touch on how a woman who went to school with me had to help me to the bathroom and the other wash me as I couldn’t move…
Do I relay how I lay weeping, deep soul crushing sobs praying to be released from the hurt which had my heart in a choke-hold or how Rob had to speak sense into me when I wanted to go “be with Logan”
I can talk about Logan now and what happened-especially if I can see the person is trying to understand, but turns out I’m not yet brave enough to put pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, the rawness still lays wayyyy to close to the surface, and the pain is still to real-maybe one day, but now thinking about it too deeply, focusing on single events still takes my breath away in the most unbecoming fashion- most people won’t “get it” they don’t understand why I “dwell” or why I couldn’t just pen my story or alternatively just forget the whole thing, they don’t truly “get it” and for that I’m thankful because to completely understand you need to live it, and I don’t want that for my worst enemy…I’m thankful for being able to help as many people as I have with my story but for now, the book gets locked away safely in a file marked “open when stronger”
While I remember NO FEAR JUST FAITH!!!
JustEllaBella

I miss you most at Christmas

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Warning: Don’t read if, like some, you find posts about my late son tiresome….

I’m not over it! I know “I should be” , I’m expected to be, but I’m not.
Yes I have to most adorable little boy and yes I’m happy with him and my husband but truth is, I don’t think my husband or myself will ever be 100% fine.
At heart I’m still the girl who was rushed to hospital unaware of what lay ahead, the one who blames herself for not noticing signs before, like the cramping that night – that night that before now didn’t raise any warning bells. I’m the one who naively phoned her dad excited to be able to visit her son for the first time but was instead greeted by the tear stained face of her husband, who had just washed his hands in preparation of spending time with his newborn son, but was instead faced with the most grim of realities, his sons death, and was now forced to convey that message to a wife who in his mind was still standing at deaths door – a message relayed by doctors and grief stricken family the day before.
I’m still the girl who had a tiny white coffin in her lounge, next to the piano which belonged to my husbands late grandmother and couches given to me as a wedding present by my now deceased,but then extremely supportive, aunt.
I’m the girl who dragged herself to her feet and fought back the looming depression and instead of letting pain consume her, started life anew.
A life that now includes a bouncing baby boy who at birth couldn’t breath, and who had nurses,doctors,friends and family praying to God to not let this couple,who were holding on to a tiny fragment of hope,experience again what they did just over a year before …..A little boy who as I type lays beside me, an angel of 8 months old who has renewed in me a sense that broken hearts can indeed love and NO I’m not over it and that’s OK, Logan is his bother and my son and his short little life was not insignificant, it taught me so much and for that I will be eternally grateful….
Merry Christmas Loggie Bear

11 months without him

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It’s 11 months today almost a full year since we had to say goodbye to our little boy, Logan Allan Meyers….you will always be loved:

 Grief is Like a River

By Cinthia G. Kelley
My grief is like a river,
I have to let it flow,
but I myself determine
just where the banks will go.
Some days the current takes me
in waves of guilt and pain,
but there are always quiet pools
where I can rest again.
I crash on rocks of anger;
my faith seems faint indeed,
but there are other swimmers
who know that what I need
Are loving hands to hold me
when the waters are too swift,
and someone kind to listen
when I just seem to drift.
Grief’s river is a process
of relinquishing the past.
By swimming in hope’s channels,
I’ll reach the shore at last.
 
 
 
 

tmgdisc

Songs for my Sons

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I love music . . . but weirdly so, every CD in our house+car belongs to Robin and its really not often that you will find me replaying a song more than a couple of times unless it REALLY speaks to me (usually in a foreign language-Love Carla Bruni) that being said, you would be hard pressed to find anyone who has spent a couple of days with me without hearing me break out into song or  hum a little tune. When I was younger I LOVED the stage…then some stage fright set in and I opted to do back-up vocals for DJS which meant you could hear my voice but didn’t know where it came from, these days I mostly hum to entertain myself.
 
I always imagined I’d sing to my babies…from womb to  big school (I seem prone to having sons and don’t think they’d appreciate random singing after a certain age) I started with Logan and know that singing to him in my mind got me through some tough times, but with Aidan I just couldn’t, I don’t know if it was my hearts way of protecting me? Because I used to play Carla Bruni to Logan all the time and now her music seems to have lost it’s spark and the song “Jesus wants me for a Sun beam” has become a instant tear jerker…
 
Robin loves my singing and really wants me to sing to baby and even my  doctor was encouraging me, telling me how she wishes she could sing and how she had to settle for CD’s while she was pregnant…
I thought about it, but just couldn’t bring myself to sing the traditional lullabies, maybe it’s because I don’t like the idea of bough breaking and cradles falling…
 
Any way Aidan was particularly restless last night and I thought lets try this singing thing… I went with two of my favourites… “Dream a little dream” by Mammas and Pappas  and  “Smile” by Nat King Cole and would you know it…it worked 🙂
 
DREAM A LITTLE DREAM
 
Stars shining bright above you
night breezes seem to whisper

I love you
Birds singin’ in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me.
Say “nighty night” and kiss me

just hold me tight and tell me

you’ll miss me.
While I’m alone and blue as can be

Dream a little dream of me.

Stars fading
but I linger on
dear

still craving your kiss
I’m longing to linger til dawn
dear

Just saying this:

Sweet dreams til sun beams find you

sweet dreams that leave our worries behind you.
But in your dreams
whatever they be

dream a little dream of me.

Stars fading
but I linger on
dear

still craving your kiss.
I’m longing to linger til dawn
dear

just saying this:

Sweet dreams til sun beams find you

sweet dreams that leave our worries behind you.
But in your dreams
whatever they be

dream a little dream of me.

Sweet dreams til sun beams find you

sweet dreams that leave our worries behind you.
But in your dreams
whatever they be

dream a little dream of me.

Sweet dreams til sun beams find you

sweet dreams that leave our worries behind you.
But in your dreams
whatever they be

dream a little dream of me.

 
 
SMILE
 
Smile though your heart is aching
Smile even though it’s breaking
When there are clouds in the sky, you’ll get by
If you smile through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You’ll see the sun come shining through for you

Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near
That’s the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what’s the use of crying?
You’ll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile

That’s the time you must keep on trying
Smile, what’s the use of crying?
You’ll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile

  
Meanwhile someone sent me a link to a song by Pink (the only artist I can think of where I’d go out of my way to attend a concert), which is said to deal with child loss, it’s such a powerful ballad and connects me with my other son, Logan….
 
BEAM ME UP
 
There’s a whole n’other conversation going on
In a parallel universe
Where nothing breaks and nothing hurts
There’s a waltz playing frozen in time
Blades of grass on tiny bare feet
I look at you and you’re looking at me

Could you beam me up,
Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it
Probably just stare, happy just to be there holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, tired of being a fighter,
I think, a minutes enough,
Just beam me up.

Some black birds soaring in the sky,
Barely a breath like our one last say
Tell me that was you, saying goodbye,
There are times I feel the shiver and cold,
It only happens when I’m on my own,
I tell ya, tell me, I’m not alone

Could you beam me up,
Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it
I’d Probably just stare, happy just to be there, holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, tired of being a fighter,
I think, a minutes enough,
Just beam me up.

In my head, I see your baby blues
I hear your voice and I, I break in two and now there’s
One of me, with you

So when I need you can I send you a sign
I’ll burn a candle and turn off the lights
I’ll pick a star and watch you shine

Just beam me up,Give me a minute, I don’t know what I’d say in it
Probably just stare, happy just to be there, holding your face
Beam me up,
Let me be lighter, tired of being a fighter,
I think, a minutes enough,
Beam me up
Beam me up
Beam me up
Could you beam me up.

tmgdisc

Catch up on rainbow and a little sad note

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It’s week 28 which means we are now in the third trimester and  have officially made it passed the dreaded 26week mark! This doesn’t guaranty our rainbows safety but it seriously goes a long way to protect my sanity!
Seriously making it to the third trimester is A BIG DEAL for anyone who has gone into preterm labor it’s SUCH A GOOD SIGN. Not that it cancels out complications (because it really doesn’t) but it gives you peace of mind and strength to take on the rest of the journey.
At week 28, Aidan is such a busy boy and its amazing to see how he reacts to outside stimuli…Like in church where he started moving every time a baby in the congregation started crying and last night when I was trying to make a smoothie he certainly made his feelings about blenders known! At first I thought it was a fluke, so I tested it, and seriously every time I switch the blender on he would kick up such a fuss…It really is such an amazing thing. Rob often “plays” with him, and without fail he reacts to Robs voice, he also seems to find people touching him quite annoying (he kicks, HARD, often in the face…)
 
I can’t believe how far we have come….On Sunday they had a memorial service for everyone who passed away last year, they read out the names of those who passed and you could go light a candle in honor of your person. It was a very tough to get up the courage to even go to the service (Rubbing salt in a healing wound) but we wanted to do this for Logan, honor him, stand up and be counted. I couldn’t conjure up the guts to go light the candle myself so Rob offered to, this was something he wanted to do for his son…Unfortunetly a mix-up came and Logan’s name was never read –  Cue the water works – It was like someone stomped on my heart…I just sat there stunned, tears pouring down my face…How could they forget him? Especially after I had been asked to check his details with the deacon, it was heartbreaking and for some reason just sooo sad and disappointing (they announced another baby’s death and the cynical part of me shouted, what made that baby more special than ours?).
A week of readying our hearts and our spirits and then we don’t even get the chance to honor Logan…I was shattered and we actually decided to slip out of church (something I have never done) and go to Logan’s grave instead, I felt rather stupid to sit there crying anyway.
I received an apology from the deacon later and the “assurance” that Logan was not forgotten, but by that time I didn’t care,  I had had a good cry next to my sons grave , I played with the dandelions that spouted next to his grave and stared in wonder at butterflies that danced above our heads (Two of my favourite symbols) and strengthened my resolve not to base my own emotions on other people.
I wasn’t angry and  still aren’t, I was disappointed and it broke my heart to see Robin so ready to honor his son, and be stopped, but I’m not angry…my mom got up just before Rob and I slipped out and lit a candle for Logan, and it reminded me again; we don’t need anyone’s validation to make our love for our little boy more real or to prove that he was here, we know what we know and that is validation enough. . .
 
* picture from shiratdevorah.blogspot.com

Tears for week 26

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So today marks the end of week 26 for Aidan which in Logan’s life marked his birth and shortly after, his death…I was 26 when all that happened. 26 divided by  two is 13 that’s the date of my birthday shortly after Logan died, just a few days after his funeral, I had my life celebrated while his death haunted.
Today is my sister’s birthday, it’s a Friday-start of the weekend, and two wonderful women I know gave birth this week, but today while many of the people I know smile, I fight back tears and shout at my inner being to be strong! Be strong damit!
I get kicked every few minutes in an effort from Aidan to remind me that he is still here, things are not the same…I’m not in pain, I’m not being rushed to the emergency room watching doctors check my vital signs  while trying to keep me calm meanwhile hiding their own shock and sadness. Nurses are not putting on a “brave face” for my benefit and these playful kicks are not our last.
I’m a logical person, I realize that my day is set to be spent at my desk slogging away at the daily grind, but I feel the message hasn’t gotten through to my heart…an insignificant little tiff with family has set my heart aflutter, something that would have been met with a stern disposition and a sly smile when I’m proved right (which I am) has been met with nothing but heart wrenching sobs, I recon I could cry for days if I started…or should I say restarted right now…sob like I did the night alone in my hospital room while longing for human interaction and overhearing  nursing staff whisper that I needed to be alone… Today I want to be left alone (no chance of that) I want to beat my chest and say it’s not fair, the loss is not fair, the pain is not fair, the fear is not fair, the flash backs are not fair, but then again when was life ever fair. . .
 
I know this post sounds like the cry of a desperate woman who should be on suicide watch, but it’s not, sometimes I’m just filled with so much emotion I need to purge through a keyboard I need to shout out at the world I AM NOT OK, in order to be OK… and as long as Aidan is healthy I’m OK
 
Every story has a happy ending if it’s not happy its not the ending
 
(picture fanpop.com)