~The Heartbreak Blues~

 ~It's been a very trying week.  I don't know what to say or do, or how to accurately describe how I feel right now.

Where do I begin?  I guess the best place would be to use the one word that says it best.  LOVE.

Love is responsible for all of this.

I am guilty of loving too much.  I have wanted too much.  I have needed too much.  I held on too much.  I feared too much.  I hurt too much.

I can't speak for someone else and this post is only about me, so I can only write about my intentions, thoughts, and deeds.

I've been through a lot in the last several years, which started with my ex-husband's brain injury, but the culmination was the loss of Bennett.

When I watched his tiny body go into that little wee casket, I swear my heart stopped for a moment.  I didn't want to see the lid closing, knowing I would never see his beautiful, little face ever again......but yet I couldn't tear my eyes away.  I didn't want to miss my final moments with his physical presence before me.

I held him while he passed away, and watched his siblings grieve. 

I clipped some of his hair, and made gold embossed feet imprints for keepsakes. 

I rubbed his delicate tissues with Nivea cream and prepared him for the cold storage in the morgue.  I attached his identifying name tag, then wrapped and tied him up with a bow.  I placed his 8-day old body into the body-bag myself, kissed his tiny face one more time, then zipped it shut and waited for the security guards to come and take him away.

At the funeral home I removed him from the bag and unwrapped him in preparation for his final bath and dressing.  The tears flowed and it was difficult to breathe.  My sister, mother, and father were in attendance. 
His naming ceremony is chronicled here:  http://my-baby-is-an-angel.blogspot.com/p/meaning-of-nimkee.html 

I got into my father's car and held Bennett on my lap.  We took a drive by my home to show him where his family lives.  I took him home to my father's, which was my family homestead for generations.  His body laid in wake for 3 days and we laid him to rest at sunset, on April 10th.

Kissing him and holding him one last time was excruciating.  Placing him into the casket was indescribable.  The closing of the lid was like a dagger in my heart.  The drive to the cemetary is a blur in my mind.

Can you even imagine what it was like to watch his tiny casket being lowered into the ground and have daisies and dirt thrown on top of him?  I couldn't watch.  I felt rage amongst the tears.

~My baby is in here.  Visits to the cemetary are very difficult.

I spent the next few months grieving alone.  Each day was a struggle.  Each breath forced.  I had no appetite, and sleep was my only reprieve.

One day I received a notification that someone from my past had reached out to me.  I graciously accepted it and from that day forward everything changed.

He made himself available to me to lean on in my grief.  He made the breathing easier, and the genuine joy and smiles returned, even though I had thought it impossible.

I've made mistakes during this intense period of grieving.  Not only was my heart broken beyond belief, but I was caught up in a support & custody battle for my boys, division of assets so we'd have a home to live in, and outside interference from people that don't know me.

While I thought that I was being understood and respected, I have found out how wrong I was.

There has been very little compassion and acceptance, next to no trust.......and false empathy.

If any of the love was real, then it wouldn't even be possible for this person to hurt me like this.  Loving relationships and friendships don't end with anger and heated animosity because they have been loved too much.

I don't begrudge his decision to leave me.  I came to terms with that years ago, the day he moved out on his own.  The contact since that day has been sketchy at best, but it was enough to get me through the darkest days of sorrow.

I loved too much......trusted too much......needed and wanted too much.  All in all, I have been very grateful and open about my feelings, wants, and needs.  He can't reciprocate the love or understand what I need and why I am the way I am.

He has no patience left for me.  No caring.  No concern for my feelings.  No kind words or apologies.  Nothing.  Just requests for the return of items, public attempts at humiliation, police threats if I try to see him face to face to talk, and nasty emails.  He claims he is happy with all of this, even though his actions speak otherwise.  I definitely am not one bit happy with any of this.

Why can't he understand and feel compassion?  Just give me loyal friendship and trust I don't have evil or selfish motives.  Why is it impossible to maintain friendship?  I don't understand the hard feelings because I don't possess that within me.

If you don't want to be with someone anymore, why not just walk away peacefully and keep it all private?

The biggest question in my mind is WHY?  Why is it easy to be mean to me?  What did I do to deserve this?

How can anyone expect me to go through all of this and not need and want someone for comfort?

I don't deserve any of this.  I did nothing wrong.  I have been fair, loving, and loyal.  I've been appreciative and publicly showed my devotion and gratitude in photo albums on facebook.

Now I'm on my own again.......struggling and requesting patience and understanding, compassion and peace from those around me.

My heart is battered and bruised.....mangled beyond recognition.  I am hurting and feeling very alone.

Perhaps the saddest revelation of all is that I feel safest alone in my heartache.  Trusting and loving people has only resulted in further losses and emotional scars.  Relying on others has been impossible.

I don't know how to get through this, but I know that I will-----one day at a time.

Somebody help me.......I've got the heartbreak blues...........

~Bennett-Chadlen ~ NICU Days~

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

These pics were taken during Bennett-Chadlen's stay in the NICU at The Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto, Ontario, Canada. Much love and Nimkee blessings to those who understood and accepted our unconditional love and pure desire to have Bennett-Chadlen in our lives for as long as possible.

The days and nights were long, but I just couldn't get enough of him.  I stood for hours and hours just gazing upon his beautiful face.  He had gorgeous dark, wavy hair and the silkiest baby skin imaginable.  I loved to feel the warmth of his hand in mine as he gripped onto my finger.  I will never forget the times he opened his eyes and looked at me, and stirred his arms and feet ever so slightly.  I still remember his sweet new baby fragrance, and the way he felt in my arms.

I didn't get a lot of the "firsts" that all eager parents await when their babies are born.

I didn't ever get to hear him cry.  He was 4 days old the very first time I got to kiss him, all captured by the photographer's lens.

The first time I held him was the day I rocked him to his forever sleep.


Our lives have been forever touched by this beautiful, courageous soul.

Gzaagin Nimkee, Baamaapii Gawaabmin, Until We Meet Again xxoo

~BREAKING THE BARRIERS~

~Infant Loss----just another 'catch phrase' perhaps?  It's easy to allow our eyes to quickly flit over the words and try not to give it another thought, for to acknowledge such a thing often conjures up images, thoughts, and feelings we'd rather not consider.

Inevitably upon meeting and getting to know others, the question of 'children' comes up?

"Do you have any children?  How many?"

{Hmm......how do I answer this one?  What do I say?  How honest should I be?  Will this person be able to handle the truth?  What might they say when I utter the words}:

"I am the proud Mother of 6 boys.  4 are still living, BUT sadly---2 of them died."

What happens next is interesting.  Quite often the response goes something like this:

.......'wow, 6 boys.  You must be a very busy Mama'.

{Uhm, excuse me......did you not hear me say "2 of them died"?  or are we going to pretend I didn't just say that?}

It's moments like this that often strikes a chord with us 'Angel Mommies' and causes many us to feel some guilt over having uttered those dreadful words that may make you squirm in discomfort.  It can often lead to this internal dialogue that skips  through our minds as we make a mental note not to mention it again in case I once again face someone that can't handle the truth, or ask themselves: 

"why would she tell me that?  Doesn't she know we don't talk about stuff like this?"

I have created a charity inspired by the Loving Memory of my own 'Angel Babies'.  I named my project after Bennett-Chadlen because he spent time in the NICU (neo-natal intensive care unit) following his birth, where he spent 8 days before he passed away in my arms.  This charity specifically deals with providing comfort and support items to other families with babies in the NICU at Sick Kids Hospital in Toronto, Ontario, Canada where he spent his entire 8 day life.

I am currently in the process of coming up with some creative ideas to spread Infant Loss Awareness, as well as hoping to inspire others to think about families like mine that have newborns fighting for their lives in NICU's around the world.  

It's not easy to put myself  'out there' and trust that others will take notice, or even care enough to donate or help out.  

I've read stories of others like myself that want to make a difference and quite often we have similar stories of experience.  Sometimes people just don't show any interest.  

It can be debilitating, and certainly soul-crushing when you share such intimate details of your life with the general public and receive very little feedback or offers of kind words, donations, or even enquire what we're up to and why?  It certainly isn't encouraging!

Why do we do this?  Why do we share our experiences, and reach out to help others??

I can certainly say without a shadow of a doubt that most of us just have this insatiable desire to help others like ourselves feel less alone in their trials and healing journeys.  We share a common-bond with these families and we wear the internal, emotional scars which we often hide so effectively so as not to discomfort others around us.  

If I can reach out and touch the lives of just one family out there, and help ease their burdens and let them know they're not alone.....then it eases my own heartache.

I know how difficult it is to share our babies with a society that isn't quite ready to "know" about Infant Loss yet.  

It is difficult to be courageous and brave, or worse yet---show vulnerability.

There is something  about birth defects and fetal anomolies that send some people into denial mode, and/or question our sanity for even giving birth to these babies at all since some of us knew prenatally what their plight in life might be.  

We just need you all to understand and respect that we love and want our babies with every fibre of our being.

With the assistance and generous donation of items, time and talent from my eldest son, his musically talented  comrades, local businesses, a local park, food vendor, volunteer bakers, a magician, the local newspaper and their writers/photographers, my friends and a handful of family members, I was able to make my 'dream' a reality!  We can't forget those of you that came out to be entertained, and so graciously donated your $ to such a worthy cause.

~Introducing Bennett opened our Benefit Concert~

So---as I sit here tonight with thoughts of WHAT, WHERE, WHEN, & HOW swirling around in this vast chamber I call my imagination---I can't help but wonder how to promote my fund-raising agenda yet once again.

While I meditate on this, images of Nimkee pop up into my head.  I can see his sweet little face, fingers and toes.  I can remember his fresh newborn baby fragrance.  I remember how good it felt to meet him and gaze into his eyes that very first time.....and how it felt to finally hold him in my arms.

While some may call me crazy for even continuing my pregnancy after his prenatal diagnosis, I have to just put those thoughts out of my mind and move forward with my goal.........

~ I hope that one day the world will be ready for us ~

Mean People Suck

~Mean people are everywhere.  We all know people that for some unknown reason will gratify themselves by lashing out at others, and find great satisfaction in being as vile as they possibly can----most likely for shock value and attention.

A few days ago I wrote a post about each person's ~INHERIT RIGHT TO LIFE~, and made reference to my own experience with my deceased 8 day old newborn son.  Imagine my surprise to log into my email the following day to find some comments written that clearly were meant for me, as a personal attack---but what this person probably didn't consider is that there are other grieving mothers, fathers, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, family friends----that all have their own form of grief over the loss of their own loved ones. It is very harsh and cruel to so bluntly just come right out and say to someone:  "get over it".

I mean really......would you stand in the centre of a bereavment group meeting and tell everyone that "there are more important things to worry about on this planet" than dead babies??

These words did not harm me in any way whatsoever, because I fully expect that there will be some heartless prick somewhere in the world that gets their cheap jollies by being judgmental and spiteful for whatever reason.  I know that by writing publicly I am possibly inducing discomfort in an individual's life, triggering their desire to lash out and be nasty.

You personally may not care about my life, and you may laugh at me and think that I'm a joke, but at the start and end of each day it's your own face that you have to look at and I'm guessing that brings you more discomfort than anything I could ever write here.  I will assume that it's safe to say that you have very little joy in your life, for if you did, you wouldn't bother spending a moment of your life reading what I write, and feel compelled to anonymously leave your snide comments.

We all have a public persona that exudes from us whenever we choose to walk out of our homes and enter into society.  The internet is just another platform for freedom of expression, and while I could have chosen to write anonymously, I have the courage and the strength to use my real identity, and I possess the ability to persevere despite how you, or others, may perceive me.

I stand behind my words, and I don't care what anyone says to me, or about me.  We are all entitled to our opinions, and I fully respect each individual's right to express what they think, feel, or believe---even if I don't agree with their viewpoint.

We were born with the gift of free-will.  I suggest that you use yours wisely.

I don't feel the need to anonymously attack someone for choosing to express their point of view in whichever format they choose, especially if it concerns something as sacred as death of a much loved and wanted newborn, or child.

I choose not to hate the hater.  Rather, I feel pity for someone that has such a shallow take on life, and doesn't possess the ability to feel empathy or compassion for another person's pain.

It's easy to kick someone when they strike a nerve----but it takes great strength of character to turn and walk away with grace and dignity. 

What must it feel like to live in this person's skin??  What makes a person that bitter?

I will never understand, and I accept that no matter where we go, there will always be internally ugly people in our midst.

The next time you feel the need to be hateful and mean, consider that I'm not the only person that will read it.  You just may harm some innocent person that will take personal offense to your statements.  Attack me if you will, but leave others out of it.  Grief is a difficult thing to overcome, and your words can truly hurt those that I assume you do not have a personal vendetta against.

Please, show some respect.  One day someone you love will die, and you won't want someone to be so heartless to you.  What goes around, comes around.

It's easy to hide behind a curtain and spew your hatred, like a coward.  You can insinuate that I'm a fraud all you want.  You can slander me if you wish----it's your right----your freedom of speech.  Go to it.

Consider this your 5 minutes of fame.


"I've learned to love my haters.  You need it more than I do."