A beginning

I've been so stuck lately.  I haven't known what to write, haven't wanted to write, have wanted to write, didn't know what I wanted, and the cycle starts again. I go back and forth between being partially depressed, (mostly just can't get out of bed in the mornings) and just keeping busy.  It's not hard to do with the girls and working part time, but staying busy has always been one of my coping mechanisms and it has been no different lately.  February flew by and I felt as though tears were always at the surface, but I stayed busy to keep them away.  We missed a few weeks of Grief Share, which is sometimes the only time I allow myself to stop and think, especially since I haven't been writing.  My brain is still trying to understand how my little boy is gone.  How is it that he is not mine to take care of anymore?  And my heart still hurts, so very very much.

 I am amazed at how little I understood about grief until it touched our home.  How short sighted I was.  There is no way to understand it completely, until you go through it.   How I wish we didn't have to, not like this.

Towards the middle of February some dear friends of ours (who lost their son to Mito 9 days before Caleb died) told us of a retreat for Grieving Parents in the woods of Tennessee.  It was an opportunity to meet them, (they are from South Carolina) meet David and Nancy Guthrie, (who we see every week on the Grief Share videos) and to be with other parents who completely understand.  So the second weekend in March Jason and I headed out to Tennessee.  It was a Friday through Sunday retreat and it was a refreshing time.  Until we had to come home and Caleb is still not here.  The whole thing was bittersweet actually.  It was wonderful to be with others who have felt the same things and thought the same thoughts as us, but the reason we were all together is heartbreaking.  We spent all weekend talking, and while there were so many good things that were discussed, our children are still gone, and that will never change.

Our dear friends the Cutliffs 

The Guthries

All of our babies who have gone before us

Allison doesn't seem to be affected by Caleb's absence.  She doesn't talk about him much, only when we bring it up.  Anytime we cry she asks, "are you crying because Caleb died?" Today she was playing funeral outside.  It hurts sometimes that she doesn't seem to remember him, but other times I am glad.  I know as she gets older she will process it more.  I think for now the fact that I don't have to console her and explain too much is probably a good thing.

 She is growing like a weed and her favorite things are dancing,(ballet) Hello Kitty, and Barbie.  She says everything I do, exactly like I do (yikes!) and is too smart for her own good many times, but she keeps us on our toes and we love her dearly.

Jordyn has exploded in the last few weeks.  All of a sudden she has decided to start talking and has fallen in love with baby dolls and shoes.  Seriously, the girl LOVES her shoes.  As soon as I start getting her dressed in the mornings she starts asking where her shoes are, and she has her favorites.  Some days she refuses to wear the ones I pick out! (She is 18 months people!!)


















We got both of their ears pierced at the end of last month and they both love them! Allison was a champ and didn't even cry, and Jordyn only cried for about 20 seconds.  They look adorable and I'm so glad we did it.


I hope to share more about the retreat, but for now it's a start.  After not writing for 2 months I figured a little was better than none.  Please keep praying for us, the 19th of this month was 6 months.  What a dreadful thing to keep track of.  I'm used to pregnancies and birthdays, not deathdays.  April 29th is Caleb's birthday.  I'm not sure what we are going to do yet, probably something with the girls.  Maybe a cake and some balloons, or maybe not.  How to you celebrate the 3rd birthday of a boy no longer here? Sometimes I want to make him proud and do something that he would like, and other times I want to crawl in a hole.  But I do know that my boy is worth celebrating.  His life is worth celebrating, even as short as it was.  He was an incredible kid.   I can't wait to see him again.


Love,
Jessica