& sometimes the sky rains night after night

Well, it's yet another "holiday" that we are spending without our boy. I've heard the first year is tough, but the second is worse - not looking forward to that. The closer we get to Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas the more my heart aches. Remembering the giraffe Halloween costume that a sweet friend bought that will go without being worn this year. Remembering the Santa outfit I bought last year for $3.60 at Kohls that will also go untouched this Christmas. Remembering the "My 1st Thanksgiving" bib and adorable turkey hats that were crocheted for us that will all go without anyone to wear them this year. Remembering all the dreams and memories that will go undone and unmade. How do you get excited for the change of seasons and the coming of holidays when it all just sucks? How do you prepare to wake up Christmas morning to what should be the laughter of a baby playing with their new toys but instead will be silence and tears of two parents who are living life without their son? How?

I've learned there are three types of people when you are grieving. Those that love you through it and continue to be the supportive friend they always have been and always will be, those that act awkward every time they see you and probably will be that way forever, and those that avoid you at all costs because they "don't know what to say". I like to spend as much time with the first group of people than the last two. In fact, if you have been the one avoiding me or my husband at all cost, don't expect to come back around when life gets great again and we aren't so sad and heartbroken all the time. The saying "you find out who your friends are" has never been more true than the last year of my life. I am thankful for the friends that cry with me, laugh with me, and listen to my stories whenever I have the urge to share. I am thankful for the friend that dropped everything she was doing last Monday to take me out for dessert and listened to me sob for two hours. I am thankful for the friend that texts me to tell me what a wonderful momma I am and how proud she knows Sawyer is of me. I am thankful for those friends who listen to my sadness, even when it's the same thing over and over again. I am thankful for the friends that don't try to act like nothing happened, because it hurts when people do. 

I have started to reach the stage where I am struggling to get close to people but I am also trying to cherish life and every moment. I know what it's like to have something you are so attached to ripped right out from under you, and I don't want to feel this ever again, EVER. I also know what it's like to not experience things with my son, so I want to make the most of every moment and make memories with my family and friends. I've been struggling with how to deal with my grief. I've been trying to figure out how to handle the intense pain that comes over me so hard it almost knocks the breath out of me. I know for the most part what doesn't help but sometimes I do those things anyways. I am still working on what does work - usually surrounding myself with a lot of Oreos and having a good cry. I've learned if I hold it in it makes the next wave that much more intense. 

I'm still having vivid memory dreams. They are so real I sometimes wake up confused as to where I am and what is actually going on in my life. I can literally remember everything. My outfit, Sawyers sheets, the yellow color of the wall, the smell of the hallway walking to the waiting room, everything. The one that I have had more and more recently is of the night that Sawyer passed away. I think it was brought on by a picture on my computer I saw a few weeks ago of our family, all three of us, just less than an hour before our baby left our arms and went to be with Jesus. The picture is so haunting and miserable, yet captures so much. We don't have fake smiles plastered on our face and it isn't your typical family picture. We look tired, torn, and hanging on by a thread. If a picture could say 1000 words, this one would say more. My memory dream plays this back just about every other night. Sometimes I wake up with tears in my eyes, sometimes I wake up with the sincere hope it was just a dream and I can go pick up my baby from his crib, and sometimes I wake up wanting to throw up. Every time results in tears. I love remembering my sweet boy, I don't love remembering the look in his eyes the night we said goodbye and his daddy told him "it's okay, you don't have to cry - you are going to be with Jesus." One day my nightly memory dreams will change, for now I figure out ways to deal with it. 

 

I have been realizing a lot of "I will never's " lately. 

I will never hear my son say "mommy, I love you".

I will never see my son crawl, take his first steps, or say his first words.

I will never experience his temper tantrums in the store. 

I will never teach him how to ride a bike. 

I will never watch him play golf with his daddy. 

I will never watch him have a first day of school. 

I will never watch him graduate pre-K, elementary school, high school, or college. 

I will never watch him get married. 

I try to replace these with "I will" statements. 

I will appreciate the little things. 

I will praise God for blessing me with the most beautiful baby boy. 

I will praise God for the 18 days I had with my baby.

I will keep hope that God will bless Josh and I abundantly. 

I will keep sharing my son's story with all who will listen. 

I will praise God for the blessing of my students who bless my heart every day. 

I will learn to live happily again. 

I will make it through this in my own time at my own pace. 

The other day I had a third grade student come in the door for class. She normally says "hi, Mrs. Murphy", but not that day. She walked right in and said "hi, Sawyer's mommy". I thank God for moments like this. 

I have been listening to the song "Our Hope Endures" by Natalie Grant. The words are great. 

"You would think only so much can go wrong

Calamity only strikes once

And you assume this one has suffered her share

Life will be kinder from here

Oh, but sometimes the sun stays hidden for years

Sometimes the sky rains night after night

When will it clear?

But our Hope endures the worst of conditions

It's more than our optimism

Let the earth quake

Our Hope is unchanged"

I continue to trust The Lord and his goodness for our lives. I may not see the reason for this suffering this side of Heaven, but that's okay. Sawyer continues to touch more people than most will in a lifetime and when people see his footprint on my foot or his name on my wrist, they ALWAYS ask and I ALWAYS share.

Until next time,

Ashlyn