Today last year

This time right now last year we were headed to a wedding for one of Brock’s cousins. I remember it so vividly. I had both children in tow and my mother in law was in the car with us so I had the blessing to sit in the back of the car with my two babies. I will never forget that car ride. I remember looking at Corbyn since he was still backwards facing due to his age and feeling so much happiness and joy to be a mother and to be a mother to my two beautiful babies as I was also listening to Addy jabber on the other side of me. I felt complete. I had just got done running earlier that day over 10 miles as we were training for our first half marathon and I was on such a high. I specifically remember staring into Corby’s eyes and amazed by the light and sparkle he had. I could see that my baby was so happy. I could see the love in his eyes. I touched his face and told him how beautiful he was and that I loved him so very much. That is one thing that I learned early on was to never miss a chance to tell my children that I love them. Even if they didn’t realize how much I loved them I still wanted them to hear that their mother loves them. Now more than ever have I realized how important that is. I, even, tell my unborn child that I love him on a daily basis, and I mean it. I don’t say it like a chore. I feel it deep down inside of me. I don’t know how other people love, but my love is not by any means on the surface. I love deeply and passionately. I feel that is why I feel so completely broken and shattered from the inside. I wasn’t someone that felt they physically couldn’t get out of bed or that I couldn’t walk another step after Corbyn passed. Physically on the outside I have felt like I always have. The inside of me is what is broken to the core and I am terrified because I don’t know how to fix me on the inside. People will look at me and think that I am fine. Think that I am strong. Again that is the outside that they see. They can’t look at the inner me and see the pain and sadness that I carry with me every second of every day longing to feel complete again. Longing to feel that innocent happiness that I once felt. I smile hoping that some of that will seep in to my core. It never does, but I still do it anyway because people now think that I should be over this and moving on. I should be happy that I am pregnant with another little boy that will comfort me and make me happy. I am very happy that I have the blessing to have another boy, but in no way will he ever take away the pain that I feel for Corbyn. It’s the same as if Corbyn were still here. Would I be replacing some of my love and worry that I have for Corbyn to give it to Ledgyr? Nope. I just gain more love and more worry for another baby. That love and worry for my other children still stays. It still stays after one of my children has passed as well. Will he make is so that my arms won’t feel as empty? Yes he will. Completely full? Not even close. I still have that empty hole that will never be filled no matter how many children that I have. 

I can’t believe that he has only been gone a year. It doesn’t feel like last year at this time that he was here in my arms. It feels like an entire lifetime. His memories seem so distant, and I fear that I am starting to forget them. I think about this time last year and wish so much that I could go back and live up to that point with my babies over and over again. I hate what is coming in 6 days. I feel like it is a blessing that Ledgyr could come any day, but I feel like I am so focused on my pain and sadness. I’m quite certain that Corby sent us his little brother during this time so that we would feel of the gift and miracle of life and not focus on how our lives were turned completely upside down last year with him leaving us. I am having a hard time focusing on that part though. The trees changing and the weather getting cooler don’t bring calmness and comfort to my soul like they used to. It now brings a lot of anxiety and emptiness to my soul. I used to absolutely love fall. I loved the smells the colors and even the change in wardrobe. It was my favorite time of year. It was the time of year that my eternal companion proposed and asked me to spend eternity with him. It was the time of year that Corby came into our lives. It was also the time of year that he left our lives. That, so far, has trumped everything else, and I don’t know if it will ever change. I hope that Ledgyr’s calm spiritual birth can help with making this time of year be better for me. I’m hoping my next entry will be a happy one. One of birth and life and excitement. 

Monster

Corby has been known as my little monster even when he was in my belly. He was the wiggliest thing and would constantly be moving so my belly looked like I had a monster in it. That quickly became is nickname and stuck. 

 This picture summed up his ‘monster-ness’ perfectly.  He had so much hair that every time I would get him out of the tub and get him greased up like a plump little piggy with lotion I would always put it in his hair and do it spiky-crazy because Addy always thought it was soooo funny. Even the other day when we were hanging out at our friend’s house and the mother had just gotten the baby out of the tub and after she got him all lotioned up she made his hair crazy. Addy immediately pointed out that it was like Corby’s hair and went over to play with the baby and his hair. I love seeing that she remembers things like that about her brother. Anyway, as I spiked his hair this particular time after I did it he was putting his hands up making the “Eh” sound for me to pick him up. I of course had to snap a picture before I did pick him up and he gave me the perfect ‘cheeser’ smile as I snapped the picture. I was the best! This picture quickly became his monster picture and we even used it on his monster birthday invitations.  Oh my little man had the cutest personality and definitely loved to show it off to everyone that would pay attention. I miss him more than words will ever describe, and still wonder how I will be able to get through each day. 

On another note- I have been able to give another Corby Basket out, and it has had the same effect on me as the last one did. I know that this is something that not only our Savior would want, but that Corby would want as well. I still haven’t figured out how to give them out to places in mass to give out grieving parents, but hopefully that will come along shortly so that I can share my baby’s love and compassion with more people. I’m so glad that I can have this opportunity to bring some comfort to other people, and hope that I will be able to spread my boy to many many more people.   

Honeymoon stage

Warning: this post is coming from a pretty dark place, but it’s got to come out. 

With everything there seems to be a honeymoon stage. Grief is no exception. I remember in the ER that night feeling like I was being carried so that I didn’t have to walk on my own two feet and feel the hard cold ground under me. I remember the weeks after feeling the same way. Feeling like everything will be O.K. Yes in the back of my mind I knew that my baby boy was gone. I knew that he was never coming back, and most days I was O.K. with that for some reason. This is where I am describing me being in the honeymoon stage. With it now almost hitting the 5 month mark I have left the honeymoon stage and have hit reality. Hit it hard! I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I cry all the time. I mean ALL. THE. TIME. I can’t seem to muster up half a smile even when I force myself.  I have become very clingy to my daughter, and want to be by her side constantly. I have also become very angry and secluded myself from people. I see someone that either sees me and smiles or asks me how I’m doing, and all I can think about is that person has no idea the pain, anger, sadness, and frustration I’m feeling. I never wanted to be that person when someone politely asks how I’m doing to spill my whole day or life’s feelings to them so I just say “I’m doing O.K.” I’ve stopped using the phrase ‘I’m doing well or good’ because even to me that feels like I’m lying through my teeth. I don’t know if I will ever be “good” again. My new life doesn’t consist of the verbiage “good”, and I’m very uncertain if it ever will. I never thought that I could be a depressed person and just writing this makes me tear up knowing the truth. I have always been that bright smile in the room that lights everyone else up. That’s not me anymore. Count yourself lucky if you get a genuine smile from me now. I’m depressed. I know it. I’m sure Brock knows it, and I’m quite certain that Addy knows it as well with her, out of nowhere kisses, and hugs to tell me she loves me. I used to be able to work out and feel a lot better. That was also during the honeymoon phase. That phase is full of lies and deception of everything is going to be alright. IT’S NOT ALRIGHT! My son is dead. My perfectly healthy beautiful blue eyed little baby boy is DEAD. Taken from me so suddenly and unexpectedly without me being given the chance to fight for him. He is NEVER coming back.  I will never get the chance to raise him with his other siblings and create those memories. I have to live an entire lifetime without him. Sure it may be a blink of an eye for him, but it’s far from that for me. It’s only been 5 months and I feel like it’s been an eternity.  I go have grief sessions with other parents and personal counselors, and I seem numb to them now. I used to walk away from them feeling better. Feeling like I was going to be O.K. Now all I feel like is wishing that I will go to sleep at night and not wake up in the morning. I’m officially jealous of the older generation. I want to be them. I want to have lived my life so that at any time I can just go. I’m also jealous of all the mothers that get to keep their children. I’m jealous of the mothers that got their miracle and they still have their child. I’ve never been the jealous type of person. I’ve never understood the point of jealousy. I never understood when people were jealous over stupid things with me, but I am officially one of those people. Don’t get me wrong I’m not going to go and start hoarding other people’s children or feeling happy when a mother does lose her child, but right now I am jealous. I know that satan is working his hardest on me and I can feel it every day. I’m still putting up a good battle, but I’m about to give up. Why can’t he move on to someone else. Everyone else has moved on living their lives why can’t he do the same? Just leave he behind mourning my sweet baby in peace. 

Grief work through service

Brock and I have been going to a private one on one grief counselor for about 4 months. Most of the time she helps by reassuring me that I am not going crazy. It’s a big worry of mine for some reason. I can see how easy it would be to go crazy after something tragic like losing a child consumes your every thought. Another thing that our counselor talks about is grief work. It’s weird to think about doing work for your grief that you are having. I thought so at first. She wouldn’t start off the session by saying what grief work have you been doing. She simply will ask “how’s it going, or what have you been doing that has helped you lately?” After I tell her that I have been writing to Corby in his journal just so that I can talk to him or tell her that I have started blogging my grief journey she always tells me “you are doing grief work”. So what I have gathered is grief work is stuff you do to help lessen the pain of your grief. I say lessen the pain because I am still grieving for my son just as I was that night in the ER and every day since then. The level of grief has not gotten less, but when I do the grief work during that time my pain lessens slightly. I recently listened to a talk given by a member in my ward from conference talk given by David S. Baxter titled Faith, Service, Constancy .  That was the first Sunday that I had gone back to our own ward. During the days leading up to Corby’s funeral we stayed at my parent’s house for several reasons. One, being that I could not go home to a house that didn’t have my little boy in it, but had all of his belongings there. I felt like I was tricking my mind in some way if we stayed with my parents that he was just being taken care of by another family member. I knew that wouldn’t last forever and I knew that we needed to eventually go home. That afternoon after his funeral I was in a state of mind that I just wanted to be alone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t want to act like I was fine and strong like everyone kept telling me. So because of that we went home. It was so hard for me to walk in there and have all of the memories of that night flood into my mind, but at the same time I felt him there. I felt calm and at peace for the first time since all of this happened. Anyway so that Sunday I knew that I needed to go to church even if it was just for sacrament so that I could feel that comfort of my Savior and take the sacrament. I didn’t want to go and sit down in the chapel because I knew that having all the people looking at me with such sorrow in their eyes would have been enough to put me overboard and not be able to control my tears. So I sat out in the foyer. As I listened to this young woman talked that was new to our ward. She talked about the talk I referenced above and talked about her own personal sufferings with grief by losing her sister. I’m sure she will never know that she was giving that talk for me, but I knew that was my Savior speaking directly to me. Anyway, I remember part of the talk being about serving others to lessen your pains. I never really thought that serving others would help my grief pain, but I am here to tell you that it has. A couple of days ago I was having a very low dark day and my mom again repeated about the service. I remember thinking “yeah, yeah, I don’t have enough energy to serve someone else when I can barely function for myself” and left it at that.

 Yesterday I found out that one of my little brother’s childhood friends passed away unexpectedly. My first thought went straight to his mother, and my heart started to ache uncontrollably. Not only for the aching that it has everyday anyway, but for this mother. I knew that this was the time to implement my idea of the Corby basket. I have wanted to do this for a while now because it was all stuff that would have been nice to have during my time of suffering and chaos. I immediately started preparing for this Corby basket and once I did my entire attitude and emotion changed. For once in a very long time I felt happy. I felt like I was in control of something which I haven’t felt for a very long time. I remember standing in one of the checkout lines and actually smiling. Not just smiling on the outside, but on the inside too. It was so noticeable to me because the feelings I was having were a drastic change from what they have been recently. I needed this FOR ME! Even though I was serving someone else I was helping myself in ways that I didn’t think were possible. I delivered the basket and all this mother could tell me was how much all of these things were needed, but they didn’t have a moment to even simply find a piece of paper to write some of the stuff down. I’m so glad that I was able to do that and to show that mother the love and ache I had for her. I know now that grief work through service is so real and unbelievably amazing!   

6 Months

4/18/14

An entire 6 months has passed since the last time I held my little man in my arms. I can’t believe that I have been able to live a whole 6 months without him. It has been the hardest 6 months of my life.  A quote by Bob Marley sums it up perfectly: “You never know how strong you are, until being strong is your only choice.” This was my only choice. If I really had a say in the matter I would have never chosen this for myself. I do know that when I made this choice up in Heaven I knew that I would have my Savior by my side to carry me when needed, and He has done that. I tell people that I am furious with my spirit self, and every time they chuckle, but I am being brutally honest. I don’t think that when we were up in Heaven we really knew the context of what our trials consisted of. We were unaware of the pain and heart ache of the mortal body. We were aware of our Father in Heaven’s entire plan so it seemed like it was no big deal to take on the trials that he put before us and we agreed upon. I wish that my spirit self wasn’t such a “go getter” and knew that my mortal self could handle anything. I know that this experience has made me a stronger person. I realized that fact that very night in the ER holding my baby tightly as he lay lifeless in my arms. It still doesn’t bring about the fact that I am broken-broken into so many little pieces that I don’t know if any part of me will ever fit back together and be whole again. The only part that is left whole is my heart because that was what was taken from me as my son left this world for his new mission on the other side of the veil. He has my entire heart, and I’m left with an empty hole. 

In all reality, though, I am grateful for the knowledge that I have of the gospel. I am grateful that I was able to listen to and attend General conference a couple of weeks ago and listen to apostles of our Heavenly father speak to us on His behalf for Him. There was one special talk given by Jean A. Stevens titled “Fear Not; I Am With Thee” As I listened to this talk I know that the Savior is watching out for me. She talked about trusting in the Lord and we can access his power to bless us. As I was standing there in the parking lot of our condo pleading with my Heavenly Father to please save my baby. He kept telling me everything will be OK. He even woke one of my very good friends out of a deep sleep telling her that she needed to call me. She was unaware of the situation that we were going through, but she called and left a message saying that she doesn’t know why but she had a strong impression that something was wrong with me and that she needed to call me. I’m so thankful that she listened to that prompting from the Lord. It was a comfort to me to know that I am not alone, and that my Savior is there to take my hand in my time of need. I need to remember to trust in Him and His power because he can and will help me the best way possible. 

Our lives forever changed

October 18, 2012 was a day of happiness and bliss. This was the day that by baby brother was married to his sweetheart. Never did we know exactly a year later that day would turn into one of the worst days of our lives. October 18, 2013 started out just like every other day did with my beautiful babies. Nothing was out of the ordinary nor was there any kind of stillness in the air. I went about caring for my babies as any mother would do. I had to work that evening so I was planning dinner and getting it in so that my family could have a good home cooked dinner that evening while their mamma and wife was at work. Never did I realized that was the last dinner I would cook for my precious little baby boy. He was in the kitchen with me the whole time “helping” me cook the dinner. He more wanted to sample everything while sitting in his high chair. I loved having him in there content as could be watching me, “talking” up a storm, and munching. I love that moment in time even more now. I packed my lunch with my breast pump in tow kissed my babies with fierce love wishing that I didn’t have to leave them and walked out the door telling them I loved them. I remember turning back looking at Corby sitting on his daddy’s lap longingly watching me walk out the door. I will never forget that look on my little boy’s face. I wish more than ever I didn’t walk out that day and I stayed home. I wish that I was there to feed him his last meal. I went to work and the day was normal as usual. I took my pump breaks as usual to give my baby boy the milk he loved. Never did I realize that was going to be the last time I would be doing that. I got off work at 12:30 that night. I went home to a quiet house. My usual routine was to eat a small snack so that I wouldn’t starve since I was still burning so many calories from breast feeding. Then I would get ready for bed go in and kiss Addy and then head to our room kissing Corby in his crib. I always had to kiss my babies before I went to bed to tell them that I loved them since I didn’t get the chance to put them to bed. I looked in the crib to find Corby with his face buried directly in the mattress with his arms straight down at his side. I found this position odd because he NEVER slept like that. I didn’t want to wake him completely so I went to feel that he was still breathing and turn him on his side. That was when I found no chest movement. I turned him over to find my baby lifeless and grey. I immediately woke Brock up and told him that Corby wasn’t breathing and to call 911. I took him out of his crib and immediately started CPR without missing a beat. I am so grateful for my medical background so that I did go into auto pilot and didn’t turn into a ball of mess. As I was performing CPR I saw color come back to his face and for a minute I had some hope. It wasn’t until I noticed the gurgling when I gave him some air that I knew his lungs were already breaking down and he had been gone for a while. The paramedics got there within 3 minutes let me finish my round of CPR and grabbed him and ran. I immediately followed behind them yelling up the stairs that I worked at Ogden Regional and that was where my insurance was. They yelled back telling me that they were going to McKay Dee. I was upset then that they wouldn’t listen to me, but didn’t care as long as they took my baby somewhere that could possibly produce a miracle and bring him back to me. A police officer offered to escort me to the hospital. When we got up to his car he had to clean out the passenger seat so it took him a minute. All I remember doing is praying (pleading) to my Heavenly Father to please don’t take my baby from me. He immediately took me in His arms and told me everything would be O.K. At this point I went into a calm shocked state as we slowly drove the 2 miles to the hospital. It seemed like it took hours to get to the hospital and I was so frustrated with the officer because he took out his little notebook and was questioning me and writing stuff down as he was SLOWLY driving to the hospital. All I wanted to do was yell at him and tell him to just DRIVE. After what seemed like an eternity we arrived and went into the ER. The officer introduced me as the mother of the tiny beautiful child that an entire room of doctors, nurses, techs, and hospital staff was working on in room 1. My baby became a number... Room 1. His name was Corbyn he has a name and he is my beautiful baby. That’s all I wanted to say when I heard people say that. It was so hurtful and disrespectful at such a terrifying time in my life. I walked in to a very busy room; people yelling different things and celebrating as they were able to successfully intubate him. This too was hurtful to me because how could they be happy about such a terrible thing? I sat and watched as they continued to push the Epi and perform CPR as well as all other interventions to get his heart to start beating again. Nothing... absolutely nothing was happening. I willed as hard as I could to see the monitor to start showing his heart beating. Deep down, though, I knew that he wasn’t coming back and that I would never see the measurement of his heart beating again, but again I still had that feeling of calmness that everything was going to be O.K. My medical knowledge knew that he was gone before the paramedics even arrived at our home. Sometimes I feel guilty for feeling this way instead of feeling hopeful. I’m not a pessimistic person, but I believe that this was Heavenly Father telling me this to help me be more prepared for when the worst words ever came out of the physician’s mouth.  I am not quite sure how long they worked on him, but I think it was about 30 minutes. Everything is a blur. I couldn’t breathe. I physically could NOT open my lungs enough to get any air in. I was nauseated, and felt like my mind was not even close to being there in room 1 of the McKay Dee ER. I felt like I was two inches tall. My ears were ringing and I felt that stillness in the air that comes with death.  I was watching my perfectly healthy little baby boy lie lifeless on the gurney. I was so confused. I couldn’t understand how my perfectly healthy baby could be taken from me. He was just fine when I left him that afternoon. After doing everything they could have done to get his heart started again the physician finally told me that there was nothing else they could do and that his heart was not going to start again. All I wanted to do was drop to the ground and pound on it screaming at the top of my lungs yelling “WHYYYYYY”. Thankfully the physician that told me that it was over caught me from falling and just held me as she too started to cry. That’s when I saw the emotion. The emotion that I didn’t think existed as they were cheering from the successful intubation just minutes earlier. Emotion encased the room coming from everyone in it. I looked and didn’t see a dry eye. I couldn’t believe I was living this nightmare that I feared from the minute I found out I was pregnant with Addy over 3 years earlier. 

During all of this mess I called my parents to have them come and watch Addy so that Brock and I could both go to the hospital. I more needed my husband there for his strength. I needed him there to help me feel safe during such an emotionally naked situation. My dad knew that I needed him and dropped my mom off at our house and headed to the hospital before Brock could even leave. He arrived just as they told me the horrifying news. As I saw him all I could say was “daddy” and just sob in his comforting arms. I felt like a helpless child and couldn’t make it better. I felt like I was so in charge of my life and could control it so well. I was very quickly put back into a humble state of mind knowing that it is not ME that controls my life but Him. 

They unhooked him from all the machines wrapped him up in a blanket and told me to go hold my baby boy. I crawled up on the gurney and just held him caressing his soft beautiful dirty blonde hair saying over and over again “Oh my sweet baby, Oh my sweet baby, Oh my sweet baby. I love you so much”. I held him and just cried asking, why was this happening to me? This doesn’t happen to me it happens to other people. I have become that other person. How could this be? I did everything to keep my babies safe. So much so that people thought that I was crazy with how protective I was of them. My craziness caused fights and problems, but I didn’t care. That was how much I loved and wanted to keep my babies safe. My world was crashing down around me and I didn’t have a say in it at ALL. I didn’t know what to do next. I always know what to do next. That’s my personality. I’m a planner. I plan the 2nd, 3rd, 4th... and so on steps because it makes me feel safe. I even plan ‘what if‘steps just in case. I didn’t have any ‘what if’ steps for something like this. This was the ‘what if’ that I never thought would happen to ME. I remember letting my dad hold Corby as the physician came in to tell me that Brock had arrived and my dad asked as he was sobbing “are you sure that you have done everything? Can you just check and make sure that his heart is completely stopped? There has to be something to do. Are there any employees that are LDS and hold the priesthood to come give him a blessing?” The physician checked his heart and told him that for sure it was not beating, and that she would send in some LDS employees with oil. I don’t remember if I went out and got Brock, or if he came in the room, but I just remember falling into his arms not knowing what to do. He went over and gave him a blessing. It wasn’t a blessing for a miracle, but a blessing of peace and comfort so that his spirit will pass peacefully into the spirit world. After that a nurse came in to give us his condolences and let us know that he lost his sweet little girl just a few months earlier. This is where I know now why the paramedics were told to go to McKay. It wasn‘t for any other reason other than to have the blessings of the workers there that night that had already walked in our shoes and could help us on what to do next. I don’t know for sure, but I know there were several there that night. Two in particular that stand out to me. The nurse that came in the room told us that we needed to go get Addy so that she could say by to Corby before she had to see him in a casket. I’m so glad that he gave us that advice because she needed that for her little mind. We immediately started making phone calls to all the other family members to tell them the terrifying news so that they would have the chance to come say goodbye too. We called our bishop as well and he rushed right over. I could tell he didn’t know what to do, but it was such a comfort to have him there just standing there giving us his love and support. After all the family was there that was in town we had a family prayer and had our bishop say it. I don’t remember anything that was said in the prayer, but I do distinctly remember the feeling. It was a feeling of peace and comfort. I wasn’t scared or sad that this happened. After the prayer my mom kept crying and asking “why?” I could tell that she was angry. The only words that I could muster out were “this was supposed to happen”. I remember the look that my dad gave me. It wasn’t a look of complete shock, but of understanding. He too had the same feelings I was having and he too was being prepared for this to happen before it even did. I was being prepared for this clear back to when he was a brand new baby. It's kind of ironic that the last post that I posted on here was of Corby and his birth and beginning of life. Now the next post is of his life ending.