Two Years in Reality

Two years ago we buried our baby. I can't believe it's been two years. I still feel like it was that morning that I kissed his cheek for the last time and  his casket before they were to lower it into the ground. I can still feel the hard firm coldness of the casket on my lips. 

The day was brisk, but not too cold. It was beautiful when it was supposed to be stormy. The sun started to peek through the clouds just as we showed up at the cemetery for the graveside service. We released royal blue balloons and I remember I didn't want to let go of my balloon. 

Ironically enough just today was the first time I have seen the pictures from Corby's funeral. I went back and forth for two years about getting them from our friend who was so wonderful enough to take pictures that day. I finally bit the bullet and asked her for them. When her sweet daughter handed me the flash drive that they were on I smiled and said thank you, but my heart sank. Could these pictures really exist? Is this proof that my son is for sure gone? All these questions raced through my head as I casually made conversation. I couldn't look at the pictures right away because I was at work, as well as I needed to catch my breath before I could  muster up enough courage to do so. I decided I would give myself a time limit. I knew if I took my lunch break and opened them up at the start of my break I would spend the whole break crying and I probably couldn't recover from it at that point. So I decided to give myself 10 minutes. That way when my lunch was over, no matter where I was at, I could close them and concentrate on my work. 
As I opened them I remember thinking about how I remember only bits and pieces of that day. I only really remember talking or seeing maybe two or three people. I don't remember any particular conversations. I remember tucking my son in one last time with one of his favorite blankets. I remember Brock putting one of his missionary name tags in the pocket of Corbyn's suit jacket. I remember them telling me I had to say one last goodbye before they closed the casket for the last time.

I remember screaming in my head as they went to shut it "NO WAIT!!" over and over again. Wishing I could climb in there with him. I remember that finalizing sound as he put the key in and locked my baby's casket like he was shutting and locking my heart in a dark dungeon. It had a very distinct noise that I can only describe it as I remember it being like locking of an old age door where you put the key in to lock it as well as unlock it. It was so finalizing. It could have all been in my head, but I remember looking over as the funeral director did it and to me it had a clicking sort of sound. 

One thing that I remember very clearly was how I tried to hold it together. I thought that I had done very well. That was the only thing that surprised me when I opened up the pictures. There weren't very many pictures of me sobbing, but in almost every picture I am physically frowning. 

I had no idea that I even could frown- let alone that I was doing it. My emotions didn't need to consist of crying. I had done that enough for the last 10 days- I probably didn't have any tears left anyway. Instead my face showed more emotion than I ever thought it did, or ever could. All those same emotions are still so fresh to me. It's still a very real part of my life. It's still a life that I live. Every. Single. Day. Now, two years later, it's a life that stays hidden from most people, on most days, because it's not accepted. I yearn for someone to ask me about my "other life". About my son that is not seen nor heard. I yearn to hear someone say his name and want to talk about him. That's one thing that I wish I could go back to two years ago because two years ago every second was about Corbyn. His name was said over and over again and people were there for him. They were remembering him. For some reason, now it's awkward for people to remember him. To talk about him. To even say his name. 

These two years have been the hardest two years of my entire life and I'm still not sure how I'm going to make it through the rest of my life. I miss my baby so much.  Still to this day I get physically sick to my stomach from my unbearable sadness because I miss him so much. How has it been two years since I saw my child? How have I got up each day? HOW? 

I want to give a special thank you to Whitney Cahoon with Cahoon Studios for taking these pictures for us and capturing this emotional day. We will be forever grateful for what you have done for us.  

Day 26 – GRATITUDE

Day 26 – GRATITUDE One of the greatest and powerful keys to unlocking the door to healing is having a sense of gratitude in your everyday life. It might seem ridiculous to be grateful when your grieving but if you can start practicing a little gratitude everyday, you will start noticing a difference in the way you feel about your life. So what are you grateful for today? You can list as many or as little things as you want. Think about making this a new ritual for you to practice each morning.

I'm grateful to have the opportunity to call Corbyn mine. I'm grateful for my loving wonderful husband that puts up with my crazy ups and downs. I'm grateful for my Minnie-me and her smile that lights up a room. I'm grateful I had 411 days with Corby. I'm grateful for Ledgyr because, let's face it, he wouldn't be here right now if Corby hadn't passed away. We didn't plan on getting pregnant with another child until summer 2014 (we got pregnant with Ledgyr in December 2013 and Corby passed October 2013). So who knows if his little spirit would have come to our family if my arms weren't aching and empty. I'm grateful for the wonderful understanding job my husband has as well as how loving and understanding my work and coworkers are. I'm grateful for the beautiful home we are able to live in to continue to grow our family when we are ready. I'm grateful for all of the supportive understanding people in our lives. I'm grateful for technology so I was able to chronicle Corbyn's entire life through pictures, videos, and email diaries. I'm grateful for my testimony of eternal families. I know that doesn't do a lick of help while I'm alive, but that faith that I will see my son and be with him again someday is sometimes the only thing that makes me put one foot in front of the other. I have to remind myself of all the things I'm grateful for on a daily basis or I would continue to dig myself into a dark hole. I would like to believe that as I focus on the positive still left in my life that I can slowly glue myself together. 

Day 24 – CHOOSE YOUR BREATH

Day 24 – CHOOSE YOUR BREATH

Conscious grief work is so important if you want to create a beautiful life after loss. Have you ever sat down and really thought about where you are in your grief journey? Have you ever paid attention to your inner thought patterns? Are you stuck? Are you comfortable? Are you peaceful, angry, frustrated, hopeful? What are you feeling? Why are you feeling that way? Where do you want to go next? How will you get to that place? Are there any changes you could make in your life that would benefit your grief journey? When you start exploringthe landscape of your own mind you begin to become aware of your thought patterns and you get to understand your grief more.  Share your own grief discoveries. Do you feel hopeful for your future? Do you believe that grief and healing can co-exist?

Somewhere inside of me I believe that grief and healing can exist. As of right now I'm not sure how. I'm only two years into this journey and I am working very hard to try and find some healing. Some days I can go about my day and function. Other days it takes everything in me to remember to put on a happy face. 

I have thought about where I'm at in my grief journey. I'm still raw. It's still new to me. It still hurts just as much as it did the day it happened. I don't let everyone know all of this because I already am getting the eye rolls and the unfollowing of friends on Facebook that have passed judgment that I should have moved on by now. It's obvious who those people are and they are the people that make the bereaved stay silent and not want to talk about it. 

I feel like my inner thought patterns are in a healthy place. I don't spend sleepless nights awake wondering "what if's" anymore. Most days I don't wonder if somehow I missed something about him that could have caught him from passing away. The one thought that I still have a hard time with is if his flu shot had anything to do with it. I'm nervous for me to get my flu shot that is mandatory for my work. I'm not scared of passing away. In fact, I would welcome it. I'm scared that somehow it's going to affect Ledgyr because I'm breastfeeding him. With my medical knowledge my mind says that he will be fine. My mind also said that Corby would be too and I was protecting him from getting the flu and dying from that. Now I don't know what to believe anymore. I'm stuck there. I'm not sure how long I'll be there, but for now I'm not trying to force myself. 

My roller coaster is still very up and down. I will have days of peace and then other days of a lot of anger and frustration. I don't expect to be in an only peaceful state right now or any time soon. I don't have a lot of expectations because there is so much change all the time. I ride the wave and will let it take me to shore. 

Where do I want to be? I would like to be in a place that when I think about my son I smile and feel happy. I want to talk about his memories and not cry every time. I know that won't happen tomorrow nor do I expect it to. 

I have an entire lifetime to pave the way on my journey. I'm not in a rush and people that think I should be aren't worth my energy to keep them in my life. I hope they never have to understand because the only way they will is by experiencing a loss themselves. I don't ever wish that on my worst enemy, but for me I need to change that in my life to help me. I need to not feel like I'm constantly being judged on how I'm grieving. 

There was a post that I didn't get to writing due to it being on Ledgyr's birthday that was about secondary losses. I thought about any secondary losses and I have lost people in my life who before losing Corby were in my life. One bit of advice that my grief counselor gave me was to not waste my precious energy on trying to keep someone in my life that isn't making an effort to stay there. I need to focus my energy to keep me afloat. It is a loss to lose them, but I have also gained a lot of wonderful people in my life who understand or try really hard to try to understand. I've come to understand that is merely part of my journey and I can't focus on only that if I want to move in the right direction. 

Day 23 – LOVE LETTER

Day 23 – LOVE LETTER

 Today take some time to write a love letter. This letter can be written to anyone you like. Maybe it is a letter to yourself, a letter to a friend or family member. It could be a letter to your children or maybe an open letter to other bereaved people guiding them towards healing and beauty. Be as creative as you please.

To my children,

I have dreamt about each of you from the time I was a child myself. I have always wanted to be a mother. I remember holding a fake baby and laying it on my shoulder walking around and letting it "sleep" for so long that my low back started to hurt.  I loved taking care of my cousins that were babies. When your daddy and I got married I was so excited to be taking all the steps in my life to be bringing you into this world. I knew I needed to finish my schooling, but I wanted you so bad. I dreamt about being a mother of my own children all the time. When I had each of you I couldn't  believe how fiercely my love was for each of you. It only grew as the days passed that I had the opportunity to raise you. 

Addyson, you have been such a sunshine in our lives. You make me laugh every day. You have such a sweet little tender heart too. Your feelings get hurt so easily, but yet you show no fear. You will light up a room and make everyone laugh with being silly or some kind of joke. 

Corbyn, my angel, you were my angel baby even before you passed. You were such a good baby. You loved everyone and had this perfect glow about you. I have had the most intense love for you the minute I found out I was pregnant with you. I felt like I had to protect you. Like I already knew that something was going to happen to you and I needed to prevent it. You were my cuddle guy. If I or someone else wanted to cuddle you they could and you would stay right there. You showed your love for your mama through giving me kisses. From a very young age you would grab my face and pull it towards you and give "kisses". You only would give me kisses, but I loved it. The day you left shattered me. The intense love that I had for you my grief mirrored it. The intense longing I have for you is indescribable. I understand why you were always so quick to hit your milestones. You had things to do and see that you couldn't stay put. I love you so much!

Ledgyr, my rainbow, my support. You have such a special job on this earth and you are living up to every bit of it. You truly are a rainbow after the storm. Your eyes are almost black, but yet they sparkle with beauty and happiness. You hate to see anyone sad and will try to see what's wrong. I was crying on the floor in the laundry room last week- you found me and knew just what to do to make me smile. You are your own person, but yet you have so many similarities as your brother. You came into this world at the perfect time. Just 5 hours short of your brother's angel day. It has been a blessing for me to focus on something good instead of reliving the 18th over and over again. I'm grateful for your little body and joyful spirit that you bring to our home. 

I know that I would not be the woman I am today if it weren't for my three children. They have made me become a better mother, sister, daughter, and friend. I'm forever grateful to my Heavenly Father for allowing me the opportunity to raise some of his choicest spirits. My grief has made me realize that more. It has made me be compassionate and understanding of people. My grief has molded me into someone I didn't think I could become. 

Day 22 – DREAMS + RITUALS

Day 22 – DREAMS + RITUALS Do you have any dreams for your future? DO you dream of your children? Do you have any grief rituals? What do you do on your children’s birthdays, anniversaries or special dates.

I am always trying to think of ways to celebrate/remember Corbyn's days. Having just had both and it being the second year it still feels like I have no idea what I'm doing, or what I'm wanting.  This year I baked him a Spider-Man cake and we went to his grave and celebrated with him. 

We went and got chicken nuggets and fries since that was one of his favorite food. 

We colored with chalk on the road that's  right next to his grave. 

Then we wrote messages on balloons and released them to Heaven.

For his angelversary I made royal blue cupcakes. 

Then wrote on royal blue balloons and sent them to Corby in Heaven. 

As far as dreams go I haven't dreamt about Corby since right after he passed. The first dream I had of him was of him giving me kisses like he used to all the time. It felt so real like it was really happening. I felt like I could really feel him on my lips. I feel like that was him telling his mama goodbye and that he was OK. The second dream I had was Jesus was giving him back to me. I remember how happy I was in that dream. Then I woke up and my nightmare began again. I, now, daydream about that feeling and dream about the day that I do get my son back again. To raise him just where I left off. I feel like that was Jesus telling me that during that dream. That I will get my son back. Just not in my timing.

I wish Corby would come visit me more, but for now I hold onto the dreams I have gotten.  

Day 21 – SACRED SPACE

Day 21 – SACRED SPACE 

Do you have a special place that you visit to “be” with your children? A place that you feel connected to? Maybe it is their grave, or a beautiful garden, beach or forest. Maybe it is a special spot dedicated to them in your home, like a shrine or altar. What does this place mean to you? Why that place? If you haven’t got a sacred place that you visit to remember your children, maybe have a think about finding a beautiful place that you can visit to remember them. Or maybe you could create one in your home. It is never too late to do this. Having a sacred space for you to visit to just be, is wonderful for your soul. It gives you some time out to just allow yourself to calm your heart and reconnect with the love that you have for your children. Once you find a space, put on some beautiful music, make yourself a cup of tea and light a candle and clear the space so it is clean and new. Think about what you would like to place on your altar. Some ideas are fresh flowers, a candle, photographs, pieces of paper with your favourite quotes of poetry. An ornament that represents your child. Some people place pieces of Earth on their altars such as seashells, feathers or crystals. People of faith usually place small statues of their spiritual teachers such as Jesus, Mother Mary, Buddha etc. The beauty about your altar is that you can make it whatever you desire and it will grow, change and evolve over time. It a lovely idea to keep a photographic record of how it changes with your grief and life experience. I light a candle or some incense every morning and every night on my altar. It gives me a beautiful space to reflect, pray, meditate or just a moment to set a new intention for my day. 

The one sacred place that I really felt as sacred before we moved to our new home was the last place that I set my son as I performed CPR on him. I remember going back to our home to grab something that I needed for my half marathon the week after Corbyn passed. We were staying with my parents because it was too hard to go home to the emptiness. I remember standing there on that spot staring into his empty crib and I felt him so close to me like he was wrapping his arms around me. The forensics people took everything out of his crib for forensic evidence so it was just the mattress. The stain where the liquid from his lungs that were breaking down still stained the part of the mattress where his face was as he laid face down.  I put my hands on the edge of his crib and there was this unbelievable energy that flowed through me. 

Now that we have moved into a new house all I have left of that sacred place is his crib. It's still set up and frequently I will go and put my hand on the edge of his crib and just stare into his it. I have since put some blankets it there that were his that weren't taken that night. I finally had enough courage to go and pick up his stuff from the police department, but I have yet to open the evidence bags. I'm afraid of the emotions it will bring. It was emotional enough for the lady to have to go through the lists that were attached on the outside of each bag so that I could "check them out". She kept asking me if I needed to have her put them back and I could come back another day. I, unbelievably, made it through and took his things home. I would like to make a Corby flower garden and calm sitting area in our backyard once we get that landscaped. I hope that I will be able to make that special and will be able to find some solace when I am sitting there. 

His grave is also sacred to me. People try to tell me that he's not there and that it's just his shell. I have a hard time with that and I don't find comfort in that at all. That shell is what I held day after day for 411 days. That was the shell I nourished with the milk my body produced for 411 days. The shell I kissed for 411 days and so on. So I go to his grave and talk to "his shell". I lie over his grave and cry because that shell is under that dirt I lie on. Therefore, his grave is sacred to me. 

A sacred item I have that is so precious to me is my c-section scar. It's my reminder that I gave birth to my son and he gave me that scar. I will run my finger over it all the time trying to remember that joyful day that I received that scar. Trying to remember what it felt like to hold him for the first time. Some days I can feel it like it was yesterday. Other days I get panicked because I can't remember. 

His clothing that still sits in his dirty clothes bin is sacred, as well. I have barely been able to look in there. His clothing, for that matter, is sacred. People ask me if I want to make a quilt of all of his clothes. I can't. To me it feels like if I cut his clothes up that I'm cutting him up. Maybe some day I'll be ok with it, but for now they all still sit there. Untouched. 

I'm sure I will probably find more and different sacred things, but for now I'm just grasping onto what I can. 

Day 19 – MUSIC

Day 19 – MUSIC In grief we can resonate with music because it communicates the deep emotions we are feeling and cannot put into words. Sometimes there are no words that accurately describe what we are experiencing and that is why I think I find myself so often lost in sounds and melodies. Share some music that enriches your life or reminds you of your children. Is there a story behind that piece of music for you? 

Music has always been soothing to me. I love listening to almost every genera out there, but instrumental-classical type music has been the most soothing to me. The morning after Corby passed I remember pulling out my phone to turn on music to help calm me down. That day I turned on music by an artist named Hilary Weeks. It's more religious type music, but that was what I needed. I needed to have someone else tell me that my son was in Heaven. To speak to my broken soul. To help me know that my son was OK and happy. I have always believed that after death that there was Heaven, but I began to have a lot of doubts after my whole world came crashing down around me. Everything that I knew suddenly changed without any warning. Everything I had faith in had just failed me. 

Now whenever I feel like I'm going to have an anxiety attack or  feel uneasy I will turn on some kind of soothing music. The majority of the time I can close my eyes and focus more on the music than what's going on with me. 

Corby also loved to dance to music whenever it would come on. His favorite, though, was the intro music to Bo On The Go. He would wave his little hand in the air and bounce up and down when ever the show would come on. I loved watching him do it and I have several videos of him dancing to it. When he first passed I didn't want Addy to turn on the show and watch it because it was too hard for me to even listen to it. Now I'm OK with it and, for the most part, it will bring happy memories of my little guy dancing to it. I tried, just the other day, to turn it on for Ledgyr and see of he reacted the same way to it. He didn't want to have anything to do with it. Now I know that it was a favorite of just Corby's and not just because it was a catchy tune that every baby would dance to. 

I miss watching him and all his little dances. He was such a silly little boy! I would like to, some day, incorporate Bo On The Go into honoring Corby somehow. I've thought about donating copies of it to a library with a little insert talking about Corby and how he love it, but I'm not quite sure exactly what to do. One day the perfect idea will come to me. For now that's just our family's little memory or our Corby. 

Day 18 – SEASONS + SYMBOLS (Brock's entry)

Day 18 – SEASONS + SYMBOLS

What season do you associate with your children? Is it the season that they died in? Or maybe another reason like a beautiful time you spent together. What emotions arise in you when that season comes around. What is it in that season that triggers memories and feelings for you? Is it the scent in the air? The colour of the leaves? Do you look forward to this season because you feel more connected to your children or do you dread it? Have you ever wondered what you could do to ease the fear of what that season brings up for you? Do you have a symbols that represents your child? Maybe it is a butterfly or bird etc. Share how you came to find that symbol and what it means to you.

Brock asked if he could do today's entry since it is Corby's angelversary. 

On this day 2 years ago one of my worst nightmares became a reality. Corby passed away on October 18, 2013. The night and day this happened was surreal and as I look back today on those events they somethings are clear and others are a blur. Today as I write this I am to express things not many people know as I am a quiet person and don’t share my feelings a lot. I handle grief different than most. The first few days when we lost Corby I was a mess. I have never felt such great sadness in all my life. I could not even keep my self together. My wife had to take me on a walk and help get me back from the dark place I was in. Since those dark days I have chosen to be strong and remember my son in a happy manner rather than being sad and depressed. There are times when I am sad, but not like I was the first few days after Corby had passed. When I get the feelings of sadness I know Corby doesn’t want me to feel that way about him, he was a very very happy little boy during his time on earth and that's how I try to remember him. It's sad he is not here physically, and even though he was here for only a short 13 months he left an impression on everyone to last through eternity. 

For day 18 I told my wife I would take the chance to write down how I felt about Corby. Symbolism with someone that has past is easy, but there is something specific about the symbolism with Corby that I felt I needed to write about, “Spidee”. Since Corby could crawl he would try and climb on everything, most the time he would succeed. If he wanted up onto something he would find a way to scale it. This is how he got the name Little Spidee. Spiderman is my favorite Comic book character and I felt it fit Corby perfect. Little did I know how much it would mean in the long run. I still love Spider-man, there are no negative or sad feelings about it. It actually makes me happy to know he will be my son that is always our “Spidee”. 

Day 16 – CREATIVE GRIEF

Day 16 – CREATIVE GRIEF There is such a deep-rooted yearning that we feel when our beloved children die. This yearning hurts so bad and yet it also inspires us to get creative to do something beautiful in memory of our children. Have you done anything in memory of your child? Maybe it is something your created for them. A tattoo or a piece of jewellery or artwork. Did you create a garden? Maybe you created an organization or a charity benefit. Maybe you took up a new practice. A new hobby. Writing, painting, dancing, reading. Whatever it is share your mementos.

I am continuing to think of ways to honor my son on a daily basis. We ran our first half marathon just 7 days after Corby passed to honor him. 

We quickly came up with our racing for Corbyn group that we race different races from triathlon's, half marathons, half centuries, and we continue to add to that list. 

We have moved from the only home that Corby knew and I have tried to make sure that I have kept his memory in our home. His crib is still set up. There are pictures of him all over in our home.

His towel still hangs in his brother's room. We are working on getting our back yard completed and it's taking longer than usual. For me it's mostly because we want to do a "Corby corner" where there will be a tree with a bench around it and a garden. I'm having a difficult time deciding exactly what I want because it doesn't seem perfect and I need it to be perfect. 

This Christmas we will be helping to provide a Christmas for a less fortunate family and we are calling it "Corby's Christmas". He was very giving and we want to continue to honor that about him. 

The one thing that I do that has helped me the most is the "Corby baskets" I give to parents that also lose a child. The biggest part of this basket is it has a journal type book for friends and family to write down thoughts and memories of the child. It then plays as a comfort for the family to have a book full of memories of their child. 

I also have a necklace that I never take off with Corby's name imprinted on it. As well as a ring with three sapphires.

It reminds me of my Corbyn's deep blue eyes and that is why Brock got it for me. 

 I hope to continue to find ways to keep my baby's memory alive and to honor him. I hope that his memory will continue to spread and awareness will be made for SUDC. 

Day 15 – WAVE OF LIGHT

Day 15 –
 WAVE OF LIGHT As
 a wave of
 light makes its
 way around the world today, we take some time out to honour
 and remember our children. It is a day of sacred remembrance
 and a day of awareness. What does this community mean to
 you? Where would you be without it? What would you like to
 see happen in the future for this community? Share your
 candles of light and hope.

Because Corby passed just two years ago (in three days) this whole month is a month of remembrance for me and our family. This community or club has been a life preserver to me. I feel like I have a bond with all of the other bereaved parents and a connection that only we can understand. In the future I would love to see some reason to why my son and all SUDC babies had to go too soon. I hope that in the future SUDC will be more well known. I hope that my baby's story will be spread throughout the world and will change people's lives.  I would love if people lit a candle today in honor of our Corby

Day 14 – EXPRESS YOUR HEART (pregnancy)

Day 14 – EXPRESS YOUR HEART This is the day in month where you can say whatever it is on your heart that you would like. Is there anything that you were hoping would be in this month of subjects that wasn’t? I am sure there is a bunch of things! This is your chance to share it. Find your voice. What is it that you want to express. If you are lost for words a subject that you could write about is grief myths. What does grief look like for you?

Pregnancy.... This subject has been weighing on my mind heavily lately. October, actually, is pregnancy and infant loss awareness month. I had no idea that this month was dedicated to that until I lost one of my own children. I would always only hear about breast cancer awareness. I'm coming to find out that people don't like to talk about other people's children that have passed on. It's an uncomfortable subject that I wish wasn't so uncomfortable. I have focused on the loss of my son a lot which I feel I have every right to do. Hopefully with me talking and being so open about my story people will learn that it's OK and can feel comfortable around all mothers and fathers that have lost a child. Today I want to focus on the pregnancy part of the awareness this month since I have the fear of losing a child through pregnancy and beyond. Not just infant loss. 

There is a wide range of feelings when it comes to the subject of pregnancy. Some women can't get pregnant and cry themselves to sleep every night wishing to hold a child of their own. Some can't get pregnant, but that is OK with them. While others get pregnant with ease whether wanting that child or not. Some women can't carry a baby to full term for some unknown reason no matter how hard they try. Some women have to fear about known genetics that could possibly take another child of theirs.  When it comes to pregnancy this subject can bring up some touchy feelings. It's a very personal subject, but people will bring it up, anyway, all the time. Which I'm glad for because I think that our society is becoming more comfortable talking about things that used to be otherwise taboo. For me, I'm OK with talking about it, but they better be ready for an ear full as to my reasoning behind what I'm feeling and thinking.

I have been very blessed with my three children. When I became pregnant with Addy and Corby I had the slight fear that I would lose them, but it never turned into complete terror. I was blissfully and innocently happy.  I know that there are women out there that never experience a loss or have to know that fear, but there are many more women out there that experience it. I have a very factual way of thinking. I went into the medical field because of this. That is why for me it kills me to not have answers as to why Corby passed.  I found these statistics quite informative. 

• Nearly 30,000 babies a year are born stillborn. The number of stillbirths that occur worldwide jumps to more than 4.5 million/year.
• More babies die as a result of stillbirth than all other causes of infant death combined.
• Stillbirth occurs ten times more frequently than S.I.D.S.
• 15-20% of all clinically recognized pregnancies end in miscarriage each year.
• The average cost to bury a child is $10,000. Yet the average household income in the United States is just over $50,000/year. (I have vented about this in another post. You can read that here)

Reference

I can't find the reference so don't quote me, but I read, early on in  my grief, somewhere that 1 in 4 parents lose a child. That's 25%!!!! That is a lot of people that know about the possibility of child death and have the fear of losing another child! 

Now that Ledgyr is turning one- people feel it's OK to start asking if we are going to have more children. Brock and I know that we want more children and we know that there are more children that are supposed to be in our family. I am not quite sure how to respond when people ask if we are going to start trying for another baby soon. Do they want the long or short answer?

Here is my reasoning... I absolutely loved how close in age Addy and Corby were. They were best friends and playmates. Addy didn't think of Corby as her little brother that she had to be the bigger sister to. She thought of him as her friend, and I loved watching them together. I will never forget that last day as I was getting ready for work and Corby and Addy were playing in her room when I heard her say "come on Corvin (that was how Addy would say his name) lets go for a walk".Then she plopped her little bum down in the doll stroller. Corby walked behind the stroller and started pushing her and was as happy as could be. After Corby passed Addy would wake up in the morning and want to watch cartoons, but would then pause and say that she would wait because Corby wasn't awake yet.  She did everything with her brother and it took her a while before she remembered that her other half of her wasn't around anymore. 

​
 When I was pregnant with Ledgyr and shortly after I had him I thought that I would want to have another baby close to Ledgyr so that he could have a playmate like Corby was to Addy. The months started approaching that we needed to start thinking about getting pregnant again and immediate panic started to set in. I had a really hard emotional pregnancy with Ledgyr. I constantly had the thought that if it was so easy for Heavenly Father to take a perfectly healthy child of mine why couldn't he take another. I woke up every day thinking that, for sure, I wasn't going to feel my baby moving any more. I was nervous all of the time and terrified of all the problems that were sure to arise at any moment. To say that I had extreme anxiety would be an understatement. I had some pretty dark times while pregnant and my grief seemed to be more intense due to the pregnancy hormones. That is the problem that I am having about having another child. I'm not ready to experience that all again. I'm not ready to have intense fear for yet another of my children. I'm not ready to have to find yet another provider, now that we have moved, to explain all this to- helping him or her understand my fears and anxiety without wanting to shove pills down me to "make me feel better". I'm not ready to explain to them that I'm not going to commit suicide as I'm sobbing to them and refusing to take the meds they prescribed to "help". I'm not ready to fight to not have another c-section. I never want Corby's c-section scar touched. It is now sacred to me. I'm not ready to go through more genetic testing for the new baby to help ease my fears of that child passing away as well. I'm not ready to explain to people why I'm not ready to get another one of my children vaccinated. 

With all three of my other children I was sure that they needed to come. Now I doubt whether I know what I'm thinking anymore. I doubt my doubts. I doubt my faith. I'm confused with what to think anymore. This is just my reasoning as to why I don't need another child right now. There are 4.5 million+ other mothers out there that have their reason for their choices too. Let them talk about them. Let them be heard. Let them talk about their angels. We all need someone to listen to us. 

Day 13 – REGRETS + TRIGGERS

Day 13 – REGRETS + TRIGGERS What are some regrets that you have about your experience with grief so far? Do you believe there is a way to heal that regret? Do you have any grief triggers? Maybe it is the pregnant woman in the store or a scent that reminds you of that time in your life. Perhaps it is a sound, song, season etc. Share what pulls on your heart strings.

The biggest regret that I have about my experience of grief is not writing down all the memories that I remember about Corby so I can read them any time I'm having a hard time. As I was going through emails that I have written him since he passed there were so many memories that I read about that I didn't remember until I read them. I have tried to be pretty good about writing the memories, but I know that I have missed a lot that I have thought or talked about. I really don't have any other regrets. I made a vow that I would never leave my son out, no matter the situation, and if the conversation arises about Corbyn's death I always talk about it. I'm trying to heal my regret by writing more memories and I have also requested our family and friends to write down memories they have of Corby as well. I would like to eventually compile all those memories into a book. If anyone would like to add a memory to his book I would love that! Just message me or email me!

As far as triggers, I have plenty. A big trigger is the fall season. I used to love fall. I loved the crisp cool air, the clothing, the smell, the flavors, the colors. Pretty much all aspects of fall I loved. Until my son passed away during the fall season. Now with the first sign of fall all it does is cause extreme anxiety. I sleep less, cry more, and anger quicker. It also reminds me of the Halloween that Corby never was part of.

He was all ready to be Gus Gus with his sissy who was Cinderella. I was so excited for Halloween that year, but it never happened. His brand new costume is still hanging on the hanger waiting to be worn out trick or treating. 

The little squeaks of Ledgyr are starting to sound more like Corbyn and each day it becomes more of a trigger for me. My my blonde haired nephew that is just 6 months younger than Corbyn is a huge trigger for me. He is such a happy, beautiful little boy, but seeing how he's growing throws me over the edge quite often. I heard him talk the other day and say little sentences and it made me think about how I didn't ever get to hear Corby say sentences or actual words and never will. Even just seeing the back of his head while he's playing throws me for a loop and pulls at my heart strings because, for a second, my mind plays tricks that it's Corby. Really, any blonde hair blue eyed little boy that is Corby's same age or the age that he was when he passed I have a hard time with. 

I'm hoping that those triggers will become less over time, but for now I do everything I can to protect my heart- hoping that I don't cause any hard feelings along the way. 

Day-12 Normalizing Grief

Day 12 – NORMALIZING GRIEF Often while grieving we have feelings of isolation because we fear judgement that what we are feeling isn’t normal. But it is amazing to see just how many people feel the same way. When others stand up and express how they feel through sharing their experiences, it allows us to say “Hey, I feel that way too!”. Connecting with and communicating our experiences we are able to normalize our grief for ourselves and others. So share something about your grief journey that you might feel is strange or not common. It might be something you do to remember your children or maybe it is something you fear. By sharing these parts of our stories we can educate others on the grief experience. 

I have always been told to raise my children to not be spoiled, but to love them unconditionally and let them know that they are loved.  I was never very good at listening to their advice about not spoiling, but definitely did the later very well. I have regrets, now, that I didn't spoil Corby enough. I wish that I would have never let him cry himself to sleep the one night that he wouldn't go to sleep and I was so exhausted. I'm thankful that I didn't listen to his pediatrician when she said that I needed to lay him in his bed so that he didn't get in the habit of needing to be rocked or nursed to sleep. Now, there are some nights that I will pull Ledgyr out of his bed just so that I can rock him and listen to him breath. I will put him to sleep most nights by nursing him and I don't care if that is something that he gets used to. When I go to bed at night I have to check on both him and Addy. I will put my hand on their chests to make sure that they are still breathing, and I have to make sure that I give them a kiss on their cheek. Nowhere else but their cheeks. That was the one thing that I hated I couldn't kiss on Corby when I said goodbye to him that night in the ER. His cheeks were all taped up and covered because they intubated him. I don't remember what his cheek felt like the last time that I kissed it and it kills me. The last thing that I remember feeling on my lips was me putting my mouth over his to give him CPR. 
The days after, I racked my brain wondering what I did wrong. Before we got the autopsy report back I blamed everyone. I blamed the pediatrician I took Corbyn into the week prior because I feared that there was a crackle in his chest that was going to turn into pneumonia and he didn't catch that there was something wrong with Corby. I blamed myself (and still do) that I killed my son because I took him that morning and gave him the flu shot. That was the only thing that was different that day and I can't get over that it didn't have something to do with it. Even though I have had countless physicians tell me that it probably was a coincidence. I thought along the lines that he must have gotten into something under the sink and I blamed myself that I didn't keep those cupboards locked better. After I found out that he had gliosis and an abnormal hippocampus I now blame myself that I did something wrong when I was pregnant with him that made his gliosis form. I blame myself that possibly his gliosis was from me not nourishing him better. From all check ups and growth it showed that he was happy and healthy, but what if? I blame myself for things that weren't even the case   
When I go into check on my kids most nights I will look at both Addy and Ledgyr and they will look like they aren't breathing and are grey. There has only been a couple of times that I have panicked and woke them up. Usually when I go in and my heart is pounding I try to make a noise loud enough to make them move, but not enough to wake them. Ledgyr had to sleep right next to me for the first 6 months of his life and I would wake up all the time just to make sure that he was still breathing. I am so terrified that I am going to find one of my other children dead that I have been prescribed Ambien so that I can get a couple of hours of sleep a night. As soon as it wears off around 2-3 am I am right back up checking on them. My anxiety it higher right now due to Ledgyr reaching the same age as Corbyn was when he passed as well as Corby's angel day too. I used to not be able to pinpoint the issues of my anxiety at first. Now I can, for the most part, recognize what is causing my anxiety and either know I can ride the wave out or find the help that I need. The grief counselor that I was going to for a while was the help that I would turn to a lot during my early days. She would help me realize that the things I was thinking or doing weren't crazy and that I was simply grieving. She talked to me about healthy grieving and not healthy grieving. There was a longer list of things under the healthy grieving than not. 

For instance-

I obsess over everything. I take video and pictures of my living children constantly. I don't want to miss anything, and every time I do all I think about is I'm taking this so that I will have it later for when they are gone too. I think about everything as being sentimental now, from the corn dog stick Ledgyr chewed on at lunch to the smudges on the window he made as being precious because that could be the last thing from him. I made Brock pull off Corby's handprints that were on the TV screen just so that I could have them.

 I have saved a spoon with peanut butter on it that had Corby's two bottom teeth marks in it. I have kept an empty bottle of hair gel and a prescription bottle because Corby chewed on them and left little teeth marks everywhere. Someone thought that it was weird that I kept an expired bottle of baby acid reflux medicine in the cupboard and the only reason I do is because it was Corby's prescription. The last meal that he ever ate is in the bottom of my freezer in a tupperware and zip lock bag. I still have his toothbrush in the cup with the other kid's tooth brushes. His towel is hanging next to Ledgyr's in his closet. His crib is still set up with some of his blankets still in it. I have a plant that someone gave me after Corbyn passed that I try desperately to keep alive because I feel that it is somehow keeping part of my son alive.

I haven't been able to use any of Corby's clothes on Ledgyr. I tried the other day with a shirt that Corby never wore that he got for his birthday and lost it. I wish more than anything I saw Corby in all those clothes. 
These are all things that grieving parents do. I felt so crazy with some of the things that I have done, but have been reassured on multiple visits to my grief counselor that I am just grieving. I am trying to keep the memory of my son alive the best I can. I'm not going to get over this and move on. That will NEVER happen.

Day 11-Glow In The Woods

Day 11 – GLOW IN THE WOODS Today I want to honour the beautiful writers at Glow In The Woods, past and present. This was the first place I found on the internet where I could read about other parents experiences with grief. They were literally my light in the darkness. When we become bereaved, in the beginning, many of us look outwards for help. We set out in the darkness of night with a blanket and a lantern in search of others like us. Along the road we usually find someone or something and it is with that discovery that we can walk this road with understanding company and with that, we watch the sun begin to rise over our worlds again. Who was your glow in the woods? Share some resources that have aided you in your healing journey. It may be a website, charity, organization, a person/teacher/therapist/new friend etc. Whatever it is, share what is so wonderful about that resource and how it has helped you. Please feel welcome to share links so that others can benefit.


I have had many people that have been a glow in my life. One was a dear friend in my old neighborhood. She was one of the first people that I called after everyone in my family had been reached. I woke her up from a complete sleep and turned her whole world upside down. She started right then gathering people to come to my aide. After everything settled and people went back to living their lives she came around just when I needed it to let me talk. She even got a gym membership with me when I'm sure she would have rather done something better with her money. She would go to the gym with me and listen. We would talk and she was open enough to ask questions. It was good for me because she made me feel like she wasn't uncomfortable around me and my grief. She made me feel like I was heard and important when I felt so little and alone. She let me talk about my fears, pain, anger, and everything in between without judging me. She made me feel like my baby mattered to more than just me and my little family. I understand how hard grief can be around and for people to be uncomfortable with what to say. She never let me think that she was uncomfortable. I will forever be grateful to Heavenly Father for putting her into my life. She is my friend that was the glow I needed to guide me. 
My husband, although traveling the same journey as me has been a glow to my faith. He has been the one to help me have the faith to stop asking "why" and is helping me to just know that Corby needed to return to our Heaven Father. He is my comfort when I get so angry that I can barely contain myself. He has given me countless priesthood blessings to help calm and protect me. He is the father of my children and his love for them is a bright glow to my dim lantern. 
My father was also a glow in the darkness. He took Brock and me to different funeral homes and guided us as we were both staring blindly into the distance not really comprehending what was happening to us. He protected us from funeral homes trying to take advantage of us in our time of grief-which I am so thankful for. He was the humble guidance and love that we both needed. He was the level head that helped us plan the beautiful funeral that we had for Corby. He was the one that held me tight on his lap as I would sob the days after Corby passed. He was the one that caught me seconds after I was told that there was nothing else they could do and Corby was gone- immediately engulfing me in his arms. 

I had, during my early days of grief, and continue to have now  many other people  who are a glow in the darkness. I would spend days talking about how each of them help(ed), but I know they know who they are. Many friends from work, complete strangers, new friends, and many family members to name a few. 

One friend reached out to me who also lost a daughter on the same day as Corby- just a few years earlier. Her baby had a genetic abnormality, and didn't make it for very long after birth. She talked to me about her grief and how she made it through those first days of grief. I asked her how she dealt with the fear that her other children would have the same abnormality, and she told me about how her and her husband were contacted to be in a research study. She told me to see if there was a study out there for Brock and me to join. I called the only place that I knew that did extensive research in Utah, and that was the University of Utah. I was put into contact with their research coordinator who was compassionate and very willing to help. She didn't know of any research in Utah that related to us, but while doing some searching she found SUDC.org. I can't remember if she contacted Laura (the founder of SUDC) at first or if I did. If it weren't for her and my friend, though, I would have never found SUDC. I was so lost and felt so alone that I didn't even know where to begin to look for the right support that knew my grief and pain. I had no idea that I wasn't alone for several months. SUDC has helped me so much and has been my biggest "glow in the woods". SUDC  has research through Boston Children's Hospital and Harvard. Through that research I have been able to learn a little more about what could have happened to Corby. You can read about it here. Most of all, though, it has been the other parents that have helped me the most. I am so grateful for finding them. I would be in a different place right now if I didn't have parents on the same road as me to talk to about my grief. Some of the parents are several years a head of me on their journey and to hear their perspective on things has helped tremendously. 
I know that every one of my "glow in the woods" aren't by accident. I am grateful for each and every one of you. Thank you for always remembering my baby and letting me talk when I have needed it the most. I love you all!

Day 10-Words

Day 10 – WORDS Writing is a wonderful tool for healing. When you put your pen to paper you may have no idea where you are going or where you will end up and that is the beauty of it. It is your own adventure. Find some time today to write by hand. You can write about whatever is on your heart right now. It gives you the chance to write down anything that you need to release. Do you have a poem inside you or a short story that is waiting to come out? Maybe it is just one word, that needs to be written over and over and over. Whatever it is, write as little or as much as you need to. If you cannot find the words today, you can always share something from someone else, like a quote or poem, just be sure to credit the author.

I have found writing as a way to help me release my grief. I have always written my children to tell them about their little lives. I started an email for each of them when I was pregnant with them and would write to them. After Corby passed I didn't want to stop writing to him. Now I will write to him to just talk to him. To tell him my deepest frustrations, fears, and sadness. I am really not in the mood to write something tonight so I decided I would see if going back and reading some emails that I wrote to him would help me to want to write him. It didn't. Instead I think I will share what I wrote him on one of the days. It was the first day that Brock and I visited his grave since his funeral. It's a bit of a run on of words, but when I write him I focus on what needs to be written and not proper english- so bear with me on this one. 

11/11/2013

Today was a day I never thought I would be doing at such a young age. I'm sure that I'm going to have a lot more of those firsts though. Daddy and I went and visited you at your grave today. Your flowers were still on your grave, and a lot of them were still alive. You were feeding the bees with your flowers. Which is just like you to be doing something for someone or something else. I think about what you are doing in Heaven, and I know that you are one of the strongest and best missionaries up there because of how you were here on earth. 

Last night I finally broke down and got angry and cried more than I even cried the night you left us. I got angry with how Heavenly father took you the day he did. I got angry because I still don't understand how you truly died. I wish that I knew if you had a seizure and suffocated because you were face down or if it is how the thoughts in my head have happened. I'm terrified of the fact if it was from a seizure due to the flu shot if I could handle that. I don't know if I still with your future siblings will get them vaccinated. I hate the fact that you had to go. I'm not mad a Heavenly father because I know that it was meant to be, but I'm mad at the timing of when you went. I was enjoying this stage of you so much. I feel so close to you. More that I feel with your sissy for some reason. I feel like I have always felt closer with you since the day that you were born. I fear that I won't feel that with any of your other siblings either. I fear that Heavenly father isn't done taking my babies from me. Along with many other angers a fears. I finally verbalized all of this with your dad, Bishop Perry, and brother Waterfall and it felt good to talk about it. They gave me a blessing and I have felt a lot better since then. I can't imagine how I'm going to be able to live my whole life with out you. I miss you beyond comprehension. I ache all the time. I'm sad all the time, and feel so empty inside. I'm so thankful that I have your sister to keep me from being completely depressed and hopeless. 

I look at all the most recent pictures that I or dadda took of you and I ache all over because I remember being there and taking the picture of you. I remember the feeling I felt when I took the pictures or while I was watching dadda take the pictures of you. I remember feeling so beyond happy, blessed and in love with you I am. I don't know how to express how much I miss you. I remember when I would write to you before I would try to refrain from saying "I can't wait". Like I can't wait to see you walking, or all grown up etc because I could wait for all of that I wanted to enjoy every stage of you and not wish any of it away. Now, though, I can't wait 'til I see you again. I can't wait to finish raising you in the millennium. I can't wait 'til you and your sister can be together again. She misses you so much. I ache for her aching. I can't wait for your daddy to teach you baseball. I'm so excited to be able to raise you and be able to do it with only pure happiness and no worry. I hate how slow the days go by because I know that when another day goes by that I am that much closer to seeing you again. I keep wishing that I can at least dream about you, but all I dream about is grieving about you, and all of my fears. I want to for a little bit get rid this nightmare that I am living, but I don't seem to be able to. I hate it. I can officially say that because it is beyond true. I hate that I have to go through this. I hate that I am not the one providing the comfort to someone else, but the one that everyone else is providing the comfort to. I hate fearing that I will forget about you and how you laugh, or say mama, or your little grunts. I wish that I would have been able to get you saying mama on video so that I could always have that. That is a huge regret I have. I wish I would have gotten more recent professional family pictures. There are so many things that I wish that I would have done and when I think about them my aching hurts a little more. I want this aching to stop. I want it to all go away and for me to be holding you in my arms. I love you so much my guy. You are my everything. Please pleas come visit me in my dream and say mamma to me frequently so that I don't forget. 

Love, 

Your only Mama   

I have never gone back and read what I wrote him those first days after his passing. Today, as I have been doing that it's amazing to me how much of a blur I was in. I don't remember 90% of what I wrote  in these emails. Brock and I talk about how we can't even recall certain big events ever happening during those first months. 

I also ache remembering the rawness of my soul. I still feel raw, and sometimes I feel worse because I am raw and not in my cloudy state of shock still. I wish some days I can go back because I wasn't so far away from seeing him alive back then. Now I'm beginning to forget memories and how he felt physically in my arms. However, I am now closer to seeing him again in the after life than I was back then. 

Day 9 -Family

Day 9 – FAMILY – What does your family look like today? Who is your family to you? What do they mean to you? 

What does my family look like today? Incomplete. It will forever and always look incomplete because we will always be missing a child. I hate taking pictures of all of us together because it is one more silent reminder that my son is not here with me. When we know that there is a family picture we will prepare and bring our Corby bear with us, but if one is sprung on us then I try to avoid it being taken. 

I'm ok with having pictures taken of us individually but not all of us together. We had the bear made out of one of Corby's blankets, but not everyone knows that is what the bear represents so we also choose to have pictures taken with his actual picture. When people see that family picture they aren't sure what to say.

 

The family picture that represents us the best now is this one.

​It shows that Corby is still in our family, but not fully with us. 

Who is my family to me? They are my everything. They are the air that I need to survive. They are each their unique selves that make me whole as a wife and mother. Each member of my family in their own way makes us a complete family. They are the beauty in my life. Without them I am not me. I no longer am a mother to three children or a wife to a wonderful man.

What do they mean to me? More than I can ever express in words. I live because of them. I wake up each day because of them. I miss my son so much because of how much I loved and adored him. I feel like I'm not completely living because he's not here. I need my family. I need my son. My family will forever feel empty. I will forever have the feeling that I am missing a child. I am grateful for my faith and knowing that I will be with my son again. 

This picture depicts that very well.

I am grateful for eternal families and I can hold onto that piece to help me make it through this journey until I am with my son again.