Nonsensical Musings of a Heartbroken Mom

Jason and I talked tonight and it's crazy all the thoughts going round in our heads, and how similar they are.  I realize most of them sound ridiculous. I realize that you probably won't understand unless you have been through this.  Then you will probably know exactly what I'm talking about.

Caleb's funeral was 3 weeks ago today.
I can't say I have had a "good" day, if I haven't cried much on a particular day it's only because I haven't thought about Caleb or have been too busy to do so.

Sometimes I feel like, "Ok so that's it? Now we have moved on?" And I feel horrible.

I don't mind paying his medical bills or making phone calls, I'm afraid of when that all ends.  It's one more piece of him that I will never see again.  One more thing I have to say goodbye to.  So in a strange way it's a connection to him.  One last way I get to take care of him.

I'm afraid for the daily reminders of him to stop.  For a few reasons, one because it's bittersweet finding his things around the house, or running into things on the computer or in the car.  I haven't really moved much of his things since the week after the funeral.  I'm okay with that, but now it's almost paralyzing to think about moving them.  But when the times comes, I will know.  I'm also afraid that when I do come to the place where we have, "taken care of those things" that eventually we will run into something else and it will be so painful.  But I'm trying not to think that far ahead.  I'm trying to give myself grace to feel what comes my way today, and let tomorrow take care of itself.

I don't know how to remember him enough.  Part of me wants to sit all day and look at pictures, and go through his room.  And part of me is scared out of my mind to do those things.

I don't miss the medications, and feeding tube clogs, and feeling like I'm always behind and not meeting anyone's needs.  But I so miss taking care of my son.  I was prepared to take care of him for many years to come.  To blend up his foods every day and to continue to research anything that might help him.  To make the phone calls and send emails.  To work with insurance companies and state programs.  To be home for his weekly therapies.  To teach him how to use a communication device.  To change him, "feed" him, give him his medications.  To sing to him at night when he woke up, to wipe up the throw up, to reassure him when he was scared, to kiss him and hug him as many times as I could throughout the day, to talk to him, to help him pick out his next show to watch, to get him toys to play with on his tray, whatever my little boy needed I wanted to give him.  And now I'm left with nothing more to do.  All I have are my memories and pictures.  He is being taken care of better than I ever could, and I'm left standing here, wondering what's next.

I almost don't even remember what my life looked like when he was here.  I guess part of that is because it was always changing.  He went downhill so fast that nothing was ever the same for very long.  Every few weeks brought new challenges.

I'm not afraid to cry.  Part of me wishes I cried more.  Then I would feel like I'm doing it right.  Or something.

I'm so thankful for my girls, they help me to keep putting one foot in front of the other sometimes. I'm not very motivated to do lots of extra things right now, but I am taking care of their needs.  I aspire to take them to the park, or on a walk, or do fun crafts, but so far it's just a dream I have.

I love my husband now more than ever.  We have talked so much in the last few weeks.  I am so glad that we are in this together.  My heart breaks that he lost his son.  We seem to be on the same page most days.  That is so comforting.

Thank you all for loving my little boy, whether you had the chance to meet him before he left this earth or not.  It means so much to my Mom heart that you would love him, if only from pictures and stories.  He was such a special little boy who never had the chance to show the world how amazing he was.

I have no doubt that we will make it.  I'm just not very happy about this part of our journey.  But I'm willing to experience it.  I'm willing to learn.  I'm trying to lean on Jesus and ask Him for help.  But it's hard.

I found this song a few days ago.  A-MA-ZING. Enjoy.
Love,
Jessica