Third Birthday Wish to My Sweet Eli

Three years ago today I gave birth to my second and last son.  The pain of that loss is  - unimaginable.  No number of children, laughs, smiles or incredible moments can replace those precious few hours I spent with my son and so today I sit here with tears streaming down my face missing him more than I thought possible.

Sometimes life is about reframing.  My life's frame cannot sit squarely on my sons and their absence.  I would be an disfunctional mess.  So I've had to shift focus.  Eli and Wyatt are still in the picture, they're just off to the side and a little blurry.  Never left out but only allowed to take center frame on two days of the year, their birthdays.

The salve that I've applied to my broken heart his year is that Eli lived almost his entire life in my body.  He knew mostly me.  He knew the sound of my voice, when I was happy, when I was sad and everything in between.  He felt my body wracked with sobs and my belly bounce with laughter.  He heard me singing to him and felt my soft caresses.  He slept to the sound of my heartbeat.  This brings me a measure of happiness.  It is amazing to me that I can still remember so much so vividly three years later, and almost eleven in Wyatt's case.  The feelings are still there, they don't leave.

So happy birthday, sweet Eli.  This year you have a special treat.  Mommy baked and frosted the usual chocolate cupcakes but your three older sisters decorated them and they are spectacular.

How Could I?

Not recognize Eli's birthday in a sea of dates  months and months ago?  I am currently the leader of my daughters' school PTO which is an exhausting volunteer commitment but one that I undertook voluntarily so I've really given it my all.  So much so, that it only occurred to me a few weeks ago that this month's meeting date falls on Eli's birthday.

I panicked.  I mean seriously.  I had marked these dates on the calendar in August.  Last month I typed it onto the February agenda.  How could I not have put two and two together during all of those months and all of the times I looked at that date?  To that I am speechless.  It's not like I forgot his birthday was coming up.  Of course when I finally added it up it was too late to move the meeting date which only increased my panic since it's a fairly important meeting that I wanted to attend.

But, I do very little on my son's birthdays.  Those are my special days to fill with memories and as much peace as I can garner.  I bake, frost cupcakes, buy balloons, make a special meal and then pack it all up, four kids included, and we take it out to the grave site where we eat, blow bubbles, remember and make wishes as the balloons float away.  That's it.  That is all those days are about to me.  I will not be attending this months' meeting, I'm making it work and that will have to be okay.  I just still can't believe that day didn't scream to me louder than all the other thoughts bouncing around in my head.

And the Heaviness Settles In

Winter has overstayed its welcome in a most uncomfortably long cold way.  A chill has settled deep into my bones and I just can't shake it.  Along with that, the sad anticipation of my littlest son's third birthday.  It seems impossible that just three years ago I gave birth to a sweet baby boy.  My life is so devoid of boys, it's a wonder my husband has any testosterone left!  Four girls with dolls, dresses, leggings, princesses, tutus and tiaras leave little room for toy car longings.  Yet I am ever reminded that he was real, my arms still carry the memory of his tiny body.  This time of year my mind just turns to mush.  Its evident in what I can remember, what I forget and even how I write.  Nothing seems to make sense.  Which is probably completely appropriate considering that Eli's absence still doesn't make sense.  My daughters' questions about why their brothers had to die don't have satisfying answers.  The day will come and go as it does every year and I will muddle through the next few weeks until that day passes with a heaviness in my heart and a bit of extra missing for my sweet Eli.  Time has done little to dull my pain but has done wonders with my coping mechanisms.

Ebbing

The waves of grief that pounded my shores just one month ago have receded to the depths and so far are staying there.  I don't have much to write which is exactly why I'm writing.  For those of you who are still being pounded by the waves every day and wondering if it will ever let up.  It will.  Even after the loss of two.  It will.

I don't feel like crying, I don't feel like shouting their names from the rooftop.  I don't feel much of anything.  Sometimes I think that's what happens when the grief comes on so strong after a period of time it just leaves me a little numb for a while.  I don't mind.  Wyatt and Eli are still in my heart and my thoughts.  I'm glad that thinking of them doesn't make me want to cry or crawl right into the wallpaper.  I've spent enough time in the servitude of grief and overall, grief hasn't served me all that well.  It is a necessary companionship, one of strength and growth, but it takes a lot of energy and determination.

I have a brand new picture hanging  in my hallway.  It is one of my four daughters, hand in hand standing on our balcony while at the beach last month, in the first beginning soft light of a beautiful sunrise.  Since the sunrise is at their backs, only their silhouettes are visible against the pastel light.  In the sunrise, it says  "We can only appreciate the miracle of a sunrise if we have waited in the darkness."

Deceased on his Birth Certificate? Ain't that a kicker?

I am in the process of registering my 5 year old for kindergarten this coming fall and I need a certified copy of her birth certificate which I have never requested before.  While I was doing that I requested one for our littlest girl and sweet Eli.  I have Wyatt's which we requested shortly after he was born but for one reason or another I just couldn't do Eli's until now.

A few days later they arrived in the mail.  I was excited to have that proof of life in my hands.  But what to my wondering eyes did unfold but the bolded word "Deceased" printed right below, right frickin' below, the words "Certificate of Birth".  Then, to add insult to injury, Deceased was stamped in large red ink across the bottom.  So much for his BIRTH CERTIFICATE.

This, combined with the fact that it was December 7th, the Christmas Box tree lighting ceremony where we hang ornaments for the boys each year at our local hospital, and the Christmas missing them blues just set me off.  And when I say set me off, you may not believe how far off I went.  I went straight to my best friend, Google, and got to work.  First, I looked at the birth certificate information for my state - nope, no mention that it would have the word deceased splattered all over it.  Second, I researched to see if it was required to be printed on the certificate.  Nope, not by state law or regulation.  Third, I got on the phone and called the State Registrar.  That didn't go too well.  I was told it was required by a model law, which of course is not true unless your state has adopted the model law which mine has not.  I was also told that it's in the standard computer printing and they can't change it.  Not entirely true either.  Fourth, further incensed by the door being slammed in my face despite my very legitimate complaint, I went back to my good friend and looked at what other states do.  There are a number of states that offer a more expensive heirloom certificate which does not have deceased marked on it.  There are a few that allow a special process for parents who have lost their children, such as myself.  So, then I got back on the phone and spoke with the State Health Director.  Gotta love living in a state where you can actually speak to state officials the same day you call them!  I didn't get a better result but instead a promise that the issue would be looked into further.

Fast forward, I got a call today and the compromise is a complimentary certified birth certificate without the red stamp on it.  It'll still say "Deceased" right below the word "Birth" which KILLS me but I'm going to try to find a way to cover it up discretely.  What I didn't mention above is it all boils down to fraud and is at least in part derivative of September 11th.  Damn terrorists and damn criminals.

Who would have thought something so simple as requesting my son's birth certificate could cause so much pain?  I'm considering approaching my local legislators about creating some kind of heirloom certificate here which would be that extra option for people like myself who want a birth certificate as a proof of life, not a reminder of death.  How sad this world has become sometimes.

I Couldn't Outrun the Holiday Blues

We just returned from our first big family vacation - EVER.  The most we've ever done is visit family.  This year we took our own family to visit magical places.  The whole process was time consuming.  Packing for four kids, one still in diapers, and myself for two different locales with specific clothing and footwear needs was tricky.  Plus, we spent two whole days getting to and from our destination which is also tricky with four young children, one still in diapers.

So where did we go?  Disney World Magic Kingdom, the beach and Sea World.  It was an amazing vacation filled with unforgettable memories and, at times, overwhelming sadness.  My boys were never far from memory.  Our vacation timing, right over Christmas, was not a coincidence.  Christmas has always been special to my husband and I since we married just before Christmas twelve years ago.  We spent part of our honeymoon at Disney World and the beach.  I have long wanted to share that trip with my children.  

But there was a hidden agenda to the trip and the timing.  Part of it was the above and part was just escaping what has some years become sheer madness at the holidays with family, presents, lists, cooking, etc.  I needed a year off, some breathing space.  Some space to grieve too.  One of our favorite things to do at Christmastime is to visit our sons' graves on Christmas Eve to deliver their presents and see their sweet little Christmas tree lit up in the snow.  With all of the other goings on the time left for that special trip has become less and less and things just weren't on the right track.  

So we packed up and went to Florida, just us and our four little ones.  I bought Wyatt and Eli Mickey Mouse ears with their names embroidered on the back and barely managed to avoid the awkward conversation about who Wyatt & Eli were with the store clerk.  I have a pair of ears myself from my first trip to Disneyland and a Minnie pair from my first trip to Disney World and we purchased each of the girls their own so it was very important for me to get the boys their ears since this would have been their first trip too.  I wrote their names in the sand at the beach and at Sea World we got them a Shamu and dolphin for their graves this Christmas.  

Those aren't the moments that got me though.  Grief was complicated.  I almost lost it on the airplane with my extremely fussy 20 month old exhausted and sleeping on my lap.  When Cinderella's castle was lit with hundreds and maybe thousands of Christmas lights so it sparkled from bottom to top my eyes sparkled too.  

I learned yet another lesson.  It doesn't matter where I am, how happy or distracted, how sad or uncomfortable, how busy or how stressed, the holidays will always have the same effect on me and my boys will always be extra close to my heart in those days.  

Santa, you can commit this wish to memory because it will NEVER change:  all I want for Christmas is my whole family to be together.  My second oldest told me out of the blue that she wished Santa would bring something for Wyatt and Eli.  She remembered this wish when we arrived home late Christmas evening and she looked at the two empty stockings.  If only.

Extraordinariness Oversimplified

I am moved this morning to remember Nelson Mandela and his undying legacy.  Mr. Mandela's time on earth has passed but time will not pass him by.  Mr. Mandela's words, actions and legacy will live on in eternity.  He was an extraordinary man who accomplished extraordinary things in the most understated of ways and that to me is true greatness.   Invictus - Latin for "unconquered" and inspiration and motivation in my life every day.

Invictus

BY WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY

Out of the night that covers me,

      Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

      For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

      I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

      My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

      Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

      Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

      How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

      I am the captain of my soul.