MommyWeighLess

I have a tough time trying to decide what to share, and what not to share with the world about our loss. So many moments are so intimate or so painful, that writing them is hard, let alone sharing them with a very critical world. My family is very supportive with my blog, and allow me to share. They don't censor, they just leave it up to me. I share because I want the world to know about our baby, I want them to know just how loved he is. He never leaves our minds, and will most definitely always been in our hearts. I want nothing more than to hold that baby. Scoop him up and shower his fat little face with kisses. I dream about John often. I love it when I get to hold him in my dreams. Usually it is the same dream, where I meet him on the dock somewhere, but he is an adult, or he is a baby playing on the beach. I miss him so much it really does hurt. When you wake up and you remember again, and then you try to recall holding him. Fight to pull up a memory of his sweet s

I'm going to share something with you today, in hopes that it will help some people understand just why my grief over losing John has been so profound. I also want to commemorate another sweet little person we lost this year. This year has been tough, and we have lost so many precious lives... Dustin has a friend, Amber, that I have never met. I've never shook her hand, or hugged her in person, but I love Amber just as much as one of my sisters.  The very first time I spoke with Amber was after she and her husband had suffered a terrible and heartbreaking miscarriage. I didn't know her, but after Dustin's mother told me that Amber had lost both of her twins, fairly late into her pregnancy, I was compelled to reach out to her. I was worried she would think I was a lunatic, someone she didn't even know was reaching out to her during one of her most private and difficult times. But she was sweet, and kind even though she was heartbroken. I offered whatever wor

Do you know what literal heartbreak feels like? A pain so profound that putting it into words seems an impossible feat? So much perfection... I am going to do my best to describe it to you... The moment I heard the words brain dead in reference to John's condition, my heart seized up. I had to protect myself from the pain we were going to have to endure, the tough decisions that lay ahead. It wasn't so much for myself as it was for my family. My sister needed me to be strong so I had no choice but to push my pain aside for the time being.  I remember being so scared of how things would play out that day.  You don't understand the fear like that of seeing a tiny little person you love hooked up to life support, so very fragile and broken.  You don't understand the fear like that of knowing you have to walk away without him. Forever. You don't understand the fear like that of having to watch that tiny person's mother hold him as his

Ages 11 months to 13 years and they loved to play together! Dustin said something to me one night that has resonated with me since. He told me that one of the hardest parts about losing John to him, was that Evan lost what was supposed to be his life long best friend. He told me how he loved growing up with a brother to play with. John was supposed to be his buddy, his 'get into trouble and giggle' playmate. He was the only other boy in a swarm of girls. They should be elbows deep in the Christmas tree together, rearranging Grammy's Christmas village... We are all consumed in our lives and trying to deal with our grief right now. Sometimes it is hard to think outside of your own heartache and remember that there are others around you trying to deal with this tragedy themselves. Among us, there are the far more innocent and confused...our babies. The ones that are still here, living, in a very hard and confusing time. We forget in the midst of the sadness that they hav