MommyWeighLess

Every time I have started working on the one year anniversary blog about John's death I back space it away. I just can't put into words what it is I would like to say. So I've decided to just let it all flow freely, and whatever comes out this time, stays...please forgive my rambling... I miss him. So much. You know the saying "you miss them so much it hurts". It's true. I miss him so much it hurts. It has hurt since September 5th 2016. It hurts just as much now as it did then. I know people say time heals, and it will get easier, but it doesn't. I move along in my life, yes, but I find myself stuck in a cold PICU room often. I can literally walk myself down the hall at Monroe Regional in my mind. My dad standing there in the corner of the hospital all alone. My mom puffy eyed from crying, coming out of the double doors. John being pushed through on a gurney to his helicopter flight. So many wires. So many devices being used to keep his frail and broke...

I have a little white polka dot keepsake box. I found it at Beall's Outlet , and it only cost $3.99. It was a great bargain, and it is absolutely adorable. Yet, it is a confusing little polka dot box. Full of some of the most cherished, loved, prized memories...and full of some of the most indescribably painful, horrible, unforgettable pain. It's a cute white box with gold polka dots on the outside, and a light pink interior. It has a gold bow on the front. It makes a beautiful dust collector that now resides on top of my dresser, taking precedence over makeup and hair accessories. It sat there empty for a few days before I decided to use it for the purpose in which I bought it; to store some of my most precious keepsakes. Inside are the few items that I get to hold in place of my nephew. The few physical possessions that remind me that he really did exist. That he was more than just a victim. That he was a little pain in the rear while incubating. That he spent the first n...

I read a Huffington Post blog written by Heather Hucks  titled "Dear NICU Nurse"  and it brought me to tears. I sat on my front porch and cried for her, as I have cried so many times for myself these past few months. It wasn't tears of sadness though, it was tears of joy. Their baby made it, he fought and they fought...and he won! Tucker was a premature baby born at 24 weeks...and this mother shares an amazing bond with some of the most amazing people.  We share a similar bond, only we share it with PICU nurses. I have mentioned the PICU nurses a couple of times in previous blogs, but after reading this heart felt story about the NICU nurses, I knew I had to share our experiences with some of the strongest people we have ever met. Over the course of the two days that John was in the hospital we met so many doctors, nurses, and people that I could never name any one person specifically. I don't know their names, but I would know their faces in a crowded room, and t...

The day John was born...so handsome. I did not know that it was possible for my heart to break again. It has been broken so many times these past couple of months. I share these intimate moments because writing is therapeutic to me, and because I want everyone to understand our grief. To feel like they can share their story in a world where we are all too often told to hold it in for fear of making someone uncomfortable. When Angela shares in her grief, be it social media or text, it breaks my heart all over again. We will never know the depth of her pain. No words she writes will ever truly convey her despair, and it truly hurts my heart. "Enough with the camera lady!" We are there for her, but it's not enough. It's not him. We will never know just how much she aches for him. And that's devastating. We can't help her, all we can do is be there when it hurts the hardest. When she physically needs us to help hold her together. But we can't give h...

I stopped to see a little spot of dirt today, And it was only for a minute. I cried and said I was sorry, For not protecting you that day. It's a tiny little patch. Freshly dug; no stone to mark its place. Sometimes I can't find any comfort there, Other times, I remember your sweet face. There is no solace to be found, At this little patch of dirt, For our hearts are broke, And lay beside you in the ground. -Aunt Wizza I miss him so much. I really do. Every now and then Angela will send me a message, or a picture of John, and I remember again that while my heartache is great, hers is so much greater. She will celebrate her birthday tomorrow, without him. And she is feeling it. We all do. The holidays and special events...well...our hearts just aren't in it this year. We are trying, we have to for our babies, but it is hard to find happy in such a dark time. I did stop to see John the other day. For a brief moment. I don't stay too long, it's s...

Yesterday marked the 2 month anniversary since John passed away. That is eight weeks since we held him last...            ... 60 days since we saw him last...               ... 1,464 hours since we had our last kiss...                  ... 87,840 minutes since we held you close...                     ... 5,270,400 seconds of complete and utter heart break. It feels like an eternity. It is all still so unreal. I spent the day with Angela yesterday, just she and I. It was a really nice day considering where we have landed in life. We had a wonderful lunch together, did a ton of laundry, and just enjoyed each other's company. Angela lives with our parents, and they decided to go on a day trip, leaving her home alone yesterday. She is fine to be alone, but no one realized that it was the 2 month anniversary. It...

It has been seven weeks since John passed. Seven weeks that feel more like ten years. Only seven weeks. In that short amount of time so much has happened, and so much has changed. It has only been seven weeks since I held John last, but it feels like I never got the chance to hold him at all. It scares me to realize just how quickly we moved on. Not in the sense that we have left our baby behind, but more like we just went on with life. Almost as if he had never been here. And it happened so quickly. I think about him constantly, I know we all do. But it is like he is this little shadow in the past. Was here, but never really here. I don't know how to put into words the feeling I have when I think about him being gone. Heartbroken. Confused. But there is this other feeling I can't shake. This feeling like every day we don't have him, is one day further away from his existence. I know he was real. I know he existed. I bear the pain of his loss. I held his squis...

Every year, since Scarlett's first Halloween, we have made a trip to Dunnellon in Florida to the Pickin' Patch . This is a great place to take your family and enjoy some fall festivities. They have live pumpkins on the vine that you can cut yourself to take home and decorate. They also have a hayride, hay slides for kids, a corn maze, a sunflower field, and all kinds of good fun for the family. They have it set up beautifully for photo opportunities as well. I always make sure to take advantage of the scenery to get snaps of the kids. It is priced so affordably that it is more than worth the trip. Anyone three and up is $3.00 and the pumpkins range from $4.00 to $30.00 plus. They have ornamental pumpkins, jack-o-lantern pumpkins, sunflowers, white pumpkins (which are BEAUTIFUL), and they also sell gourds. There are rows upon rows of pumpkins! The kids love it! It's become a tradition for our family. This year would have been John's first trip. He was so tiny a...

G rowing up, Angela and Virginia, were awful towards me. They were mean and picked on me. I was the baby so it was their job I suppose. I share this hoping that if you were the baby, you can sympathize with me, and if you were an older sibling...well you probably laughed and nodded. Older siblings are evil. Intrinsic truth. Just kidding, but not really. But for as mean as they were, I always knew someone had my back. No matter what happened I had two allies in my corner at all times. And people knew that they were mean, so I never had to use them as the guard dogs they were. They might have been mean to me...but no one else would ever get away with it. And because there were three girls, our Dad raised us to be tough and opinionated. It bites him in the ass to this day.  Angela and I were close coming up because we were closer in age, so we had more in common. We played with similar toys. Enjoyed outdoor adventures. As we aged and began to figure out who we were, we didn't spen...

How do we say goodbye when we had just begun to say hello? I don't want to say goodbye. We shouldn't have ever had to say goodbye. Since we lost John, this thought runs through my head. This and "why". We were just beginning to learn who John was, who he was going to be. I dream about him being an adult and what he would have looked like. I've actually had the same dream of him as an adult twice since he passed. I dream that there is a tall and broad shouldered man standing in front of me on what looks like a beach pier. He seems a little intimidating at first and when I ask him who he is and what he wants...he just smiles. The sweetest most breathtaking baby face smile. I know, as soon as he smiles, who he is. He is handsome and built like a tank. (Side note: I guess since John was always off the growth charts, and we assumed he was going to be a big boy...that plays into my dreams.) As soon as he smiles I feel his warmth and love rush over me, feel that ru...

On Labor Day, September 5th I received what would be the worst phone call of my life at 6:04 pm. I had just ordered chicken wings for dinner, and we were all about to load up to go get our dinner when my Mom called. She refused to speak to me, she only wanted to speak with Dustin. I knew she was scared, but I didn't know why, I also knew she was talking to him because she was worried I would panic. She was right to worry. She told Dustin that my 11 month old nephew, John, had been injured significantly at the babysitters while Angela was at work. She told him it was a head injury and there was a bad brain bleed and that he was being taken via life flight from Monroe Regional in Ocala to Shands in Gainesville. This was all she knew and ask could we meet them at the hospital to take my Dad's truck home, as Angela (my sister, John's mother) had their car. I instantly called my Dad, knowing he would be able to explain better since my mom was so upset. He confirmed what Mom...

I started a blog yesterday in which I was going to explain the last couple of weeks, and the immense heart ache our family has endured since losing our youngest member, John William Smith. That post is going to be a lot harder to write than I thought. So I decided to tell you about our happy, loving, smiley, curious, adorable, and absolutely perfect little fat man... Angela started dating a man back in 2014 that as much as we tried to like him, he made it difficult. Our biggest issue was his drinking. He was a drunk. It quickly soured their relationship. After a roller coaster love affair, to say the least, Angela texted me one morning asking questions about symptoms of pregnancy. My heart sank. They were on again off again to the point of driving us crazy, at that moment off again, and in a slightly less than ideal position for a baby. I told her the most sure way to know was to take a pregnancy test. It was positive. We began to worry. Angela has the biggest heart in our fami...