Wednesday, January 18, 2012

6 weeks....Seems like FOREVER

Today marked the 6th full week since my baby boy went to heaven. Six weeks, a month and a half, or 42 days.  It doesn't matter how you put it, its been too long for my liking since I last held him or saw his beautiful blue eyes open. I doesn't feel like 6 weeks to me, it already feels like a lifetime. People that loose other people in their lives always talk about how they are afraid they are going to forget "stuff". I feel the same way. What if I forget his laugh, his sweet sweet personality or the way he patted you on the back when you picked him up......its things like this that bring me to my knees.

As I put on my facebook and twitter status the other day "sometimes the grief is so much I can breathe". Up until the other day I felt like I was doing okay, like I was in a good place. I know Keegan is in Heaven free of pain and running around like a normal 2 year old, but my heart breaks in a different way each and every day. I am friends with lots of people on facebook that are in very similar and very tragic stories. One of them Mrs. Linca was asked by a friend to describe what it was like to loose a child to cancer. These are her words and I could not say them any better than she:

 I told her for me it was like getting into a horrible car accident and your child dies, and you are left with every bone in your body broken. You can't breathe without it hurting. You don't want to get up, you don't want to move, every step in your life aches with the agony and pain of your child being gone, there is no pain medication that can ease the torture, there is no moment in your life where you aren't thinking about what you did wrong, that this is somehow your fault, that you are being punished, that you missed some vital clue that caused their death, that maybe its your genetics, that maybe you fed them something that caused the cancer to come in the first place, that maybe you chose the wrong doctors, hospitals, why did this child have to die, you comb thru your life trying to answer the infernal question ...why why why?? Then then the rest of your life, you are permanently disfigured, forever crippled and weak... but nobody can see it. Its your own internal nightmare.

I don't want cancer to keep winning! I think its about time for some sort of support group. I can hardly look at pictures or think of memories without breaking down. I know, most of you will say that is "normal", but goodness it's really no way to live. I want to talk about him without getting that lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. I want to tell great stories about us and our adventures but I can't, right now it's too much.

Our house is on the market we are in the process of purchasing a new one for a "fresh start" and I have put off an open house for this coming Sunday because I am in no way, shape, or form ready to clean up his room. I don't know why either, he stayed in our room 97% of his life. We did move his crib back into his room a few weeks ago which is still filled with his favorite books, his blanket and other meaningful items. The floor and full sized bed are scattered with his favorite toys like his stage, his top 5 favorite books that we would read over and over and over again till we all had them memorized, the Little Tikes Piano he banged on since one of our hospital stays at Riley and his Little Tikes rocking chair/police cruiser. I just can't do it.

I picked Ry up from the airport last week. He had been gone for about a week and half. I picked him up late, sometime around 8:30 or so. I got very upset and ultimately cried when I realized it should have been our small little family reunited after a week and half. Two parents and a child whom they love more than anything on this earth, but it wasn't. It was me, all by myself picking up my husband. It's the "what should be's" and the "He should be with us for this" that give me the hardest time. I don't think that will ever pass. 

Ryan and I at Keegan's celebration of Life (Keegan's slideshow in the background).

Thursday, January 5, 2012

One Month.

A mere month ago today, Keegan's temperature was rising as I was trying to battle it with Tylenol. He was dieing before our eyes and we were in shock of what was unfolding.

As I am maneuvered through the last month of my life I have felt like I am in the shade of the mountain sometimes stumbling into the valley. The valley can be a very ugly ugly place and the smallest of things can make me stumble back. But then I can luckily pull my proverbial boot straps back up, with my wonderful husband and family's help, and go on for another hour or day. I know; I know, it's only been a month and I should expect this and people wouldn't be surprised if I was worse. Worse seems to be a place a lot of people in my situation tend to reside.

I strive to be better than worse not just for myself or Ryan but for Keegan. I know how cliche' that sounds, makes me kinda want to gag, but honestly I strive for better because of how Keegan showed me how to live my life. Even though he was always in pain, always a little "off", and unable to experience things like running and standing he still had a smile on his face because that is all he knew. So I go on, I put a smile on my face because that is all I know how to do to honor my son. He may have only grown to be 2 years old but he has taught me more about life and how to live than I EVER thought imaginable.

A week ago at 5:45am tomorrow Keegan went to heaven. He left his human body behind. He left a body that  always failed him and that never gave him a break. A week ago part of my heart left.