It seems that lately I have become increasingly aware of certain "friends" that seem to be bothered by the mention of my son's name or a story about him, like he's dead, so get over it already! There are others who have never heard Trey's heroic story and it thrills me to share his short life and his legacy with them. I also enjoy seeing the comfortability with which they listen to the story of our journey, seeing that this proud Mama does no mind talking about the hero that is her son.
Why is it after a baby dies that some people seem to think we should move on like it was any other death. I have said before, well someone else told me, but I have shared that the death of a child is the death of the future, everything that could have been. Deaths of older relatives are the deaths of the past, the times we had with them and the things we shared. How can I look fondly on the memories I never got to have with my own child the way I did with my Mucca (Grandma) when they never existed? All I have is the 13 days I watched him suffer, the 13 days I could be at his side, the 13 days we held on to hope, the only 13 days he ever lived.
Think of how much pain one experiences in life, or in life thus far for that matter. Imagine that crammed into 13 days, the intensity alone would paralyze us now imagine that pain in the four pound body of an extremely sick preemie. We all think that the pain we feel at any given moment is the worst and I'll admit the pain has gotten easier, well, maybe not entirely easier but most definitely changed, especially with the birth of our daughter.
As with the pain he felt in life and the pain we felt for him in those trying days, that is the only thing I have to look forward to in his life, recalling all of those "wonderful" memories, the times we had, the things we shared. Time stands still in that respect and the pain eventually settles like oil in vinegar in my heart and soul only to be stirred up with remembering and not given the opportunity to celebrate the future.
That being said, how does one expect me to "move on" or "get over it already" when the pain doesn't move forward, his life does not move forward, there is nothing to look forward to in this lifetime in regards to him, the pain is all we have left of him, the love flows abundant, but that brings happiness and fuels the pride I feel talking about Trey. On the same token, but the flip side, the pain has to be pushed away sometimes so that one can function in other areas of life like work, parenthood, marriage, etc. The pain reminds me of the absence of his future.
I have also said that other parents get to talk about their children all of the time, why shouldn't I? I know it makes certain people uncomfortable but it escapes most that I feel VERY uncomfortable being pregnant twice and only having one here. The fact that I talk about him with such pride should comfort people, they don't have to offer a shoulder, feel sorry for me, cry with me, hear me out until they make their escape to the bathroom.
He IS my child, in Heaven or not. He will ALWAYS be my child in Heaven and on Earth. I will not leave him out, I will not exclude him. And for the people who have a problem with me including him, take a walk in my shoes and "move on".
Why is it after a baby dies that some people seem to think we should move on like it was any other death. I have said before, well someone else told me, but I have shared that the death of a child is the death of the future, everything that could have been. Deaths of older relatives are the deaths of the past, the times we had with them and the things we shared. How can I look fondly on the memories I never got to have with my own child the way I did with my Mucca (Grandma) when they never existed? All I have is the 13 days I watched him suffer, the 13 days I could be at his side, the 13 days we held on to hope, the only 13 days he ever lived.
Think of how much pain one experiences in life, or in life thus far for that matter. Imagine that crammed into 13 days, the intensity alone would paralyze us now imagine that pain in the four pound body of an extremely sick preemie. We all think that the pain we feel at any given moment is the worst and I'll admit the pain has gotten easier, well, maybe not entirely easier but most definitely changed, especially with the birth of our daughter.
As with the pain he felt in life and the pain we felt for him in those trying days, that is the only thing I have to look forward to in his life, recalling all of those "wonderful" memories, the times we had, the things we shared. Time stands still in that respect and the pain eventually settles like oil in vinegar in my heart and soul only to be stirred up with remembering and not given the opportunity to celebrate the future.
That being said, how does one expect me to "move on" or "get over it already" when the pain doesn't move forward, his life does not move forward, there is nothing to look forward to in this lifetime in regards to him, the pain is all we have left of him, the love flows abundant, but that brings happiness and fuels the pride I feel talking about Trey. On the same token, but the flip side, the pain has to be pushed away sometimes so that one can function in other areas of life like work, parenthood, marriage, etc. The pain reminds me of the absence of his future.
I have also said that other parents get to talk about their children all of the time, why shouldn't I? I know it makes certain people uncomfortable but it escapes most that I feel VERY uncomfortable being pregnant twice and only having one here. The fact that I talk about him with such pride should comfort people, they don't have to offer a shoulder, feel sorry for me, cry with me, hear me out until they make their escape to the bathroom.
He IS my child, in Heaven or not. He will ALWAYS be my child in Heaven and on Earth. I will not leave him out, I will not exclude him. And for the people who have a problem with me including him, take a walk in my shoes and "move on".
