He plays beside me

When I think of Max (all of the time), the same images come back to me over and over.  Little snippets of our life together.  I remember very clearly standing in my mom's kitchen, washing dishes one afternoon, while Maxie hung out nearby in his "office".  He was in a diaper and playing very contently on his own.  He kept looking up at me though, hoping to get my attention.  Whenever I turned around to look at him, a smile would spread across his face.  As I would turn back to the sink, I could see out of my peripheral vision that he would just go back to his "work".  Then I would look back and he would smile again.  I am not sure why this sticks with me.  I think it is so indicative of his personality.  He loved attention but didn't beg for it.  He was just as content to keep himself occupied.  He was so hard to ignore though.  His little face was too cute to turn away from too long.  My Max - I spend a lot of time wondering what he would be like today.  One year and four months.  I really don't have a clue.  Would he say Momma or Dadda?  Would he run so fast that I would be worn out trying to catch him?  Would he still be mellow and happy (I am sure he would be).  I'll be wondering all the rest of my days.  My love keeps growing for him.  I may not be looking at him but he is in my periphery and I can't ignore him for long.  I like to think he is still there, playing beside me.

Seven Months Later

I'm tempted to post this link http://smallbirdstudios.com/2012/02/05/when-you-lose-a-baby/ and just leave it at that.  I am stealing the content off other grief momma blogs (I'm not the only one either.  I guess this link has received a lot of play).....I think I am doing it in part to prove again that I am not the only bereaved parent of a baby that feels the way I do!  See!  We ALL feel this way.  One of these days I will stop feeling the need to justify it (I hope).

Yesterday was a good day.  There, I said it.  I had two good days in one week.  Yesterday my mom and I went shopping at the Glendale Galleria and then went and got foot massages.  Then, my cousin Laurie came over last night and made us dinner (she forced her way in here even though I told her not to come....she is determined).  I actually had a "protective shield" around my heart in the mall while I passed all of the babies and strollers.  It didn't make me want to die, like usual.  Good days come with so much complexity, make no mistake.  I feel guilty for having a good day.  Can life be "good" without my baby?  The thought disgusts me.  The day after my good day with Molly, I had one of the worst of my journey in months.  And yet, I came to the realization earlier in the week that Ted and I actually DO deserve happiness and joy in our lives. I am not saying it will be easy to achieve - but, we do deserve it.  This is a huge shift for me.  This whole time I truly believed that I didn't deserve happiness if Max didn't get to have any.  I now understand what people have meant when they have said that Max wouldn't want to see us unhappy.  I am working hard to forgive the people that Max loved and that includes Ted and I.  We deserve some peace.  One of my great fears, however, is that the moment I start to feel some peace, the people surrounding me will think it's over, or that somehow the grief of losing Max was not that bad.  Is that a little crazy?  It will never be over.  I miss him and love him as much on a good day as on a bad day (which is with all of my heart and soul).  When you see Ted or I smile, or hear us make a joke, or we gossip with you about funny nonsense - that doesn't mean we are not still totally consumed with grief on the inside.  Don't let the facade fool you.  But, our souls need to take breaks once in a while because it isn't sustainable to feel the gut wrenching devastation on an ongoing basis.  I have felt it for 7 months TODAY and I am exhausted.  Again, I am surprised to still be standing and often still wish I wasn't.  But, somehow I had 2 days of lifted spirits and it gives me hope that there might be more in my future.

(Please, oh please, I beg of you - please don't tell me that you are glad I am "feeling better".  I KNOW it is so tempting.  I KNOW you think I am "better".  What I AM, is learning to cope with this life and it is the hardest thing I have ever done by miles and miles.)

The thin line

Someone told me recently that it is a thin line between grief and self pity.  Frankly, I see them totally intertwined.  Am I supposed to feel guilty or ashamed that I pity myself for my loss?  Because, I really don't.  I am not embarrassed that I feel sorry for us that we lost our son.  I think we, as a species, have children for many reasons but there is a selfish aspect to having children.  We want a family.  Children make US happy.  We want to feel unselfish love.  We want to relive all of the good from our own childhood and undo all of the bad.  We want to continue our lineage and pass down traditions.  We want to be on the sidelines of the soccer games, in the back of the dance and karate studios.  We want to throw our children the best birthday parties, that make their eyes light up and sparkle.  We want our hearts to open up and let in enormous amounts of joy.  Parenthood is selfish.  When Max was born, I remember feeling an enormous sense of responsibility.  I was on the phone with my father and I asked him if he thought having children was selfish.  "Why?", he asked.  I told him that I suddenly felt like bringing a child into this world meant exposing them not only to all of the good stuff, but also to the bad - stuff that could hurt them emotionally or physically.  "Having you kids was the best thing I ever did in my life", he said.  A beautiful answer - but, let's be frank, the answer was about him.  I'm not putting down dear ol' dad (not that he is old either) but I just use the conversation to make the point that, indeed, parenthood is a selfish endeavor at some level.  So, when you lose a child (which most of you will not), how could you not feel an enormous sense of loss?  All of the hopes and dreams you had for this singular most important person in the world (sorry, but we love Max 100 times more than we love anyone else we know on this planet) are gone forever.  We feel the loss FOR HIM most acutely - that is where the sickening guilt comes in; though we feel the loss almost as severely for ourselves.  Not embarrassed, not ashamed, just honest.

LIbraries, Foot Massages, Grief Judgments and a Shout Out

I have been hanging out in the library lately.  I am thinking I need to do it more often.  I work better in the library and I like feeling totally anonymous there.  There ARE kids but they are usually in a special room that is really like a library of their own.  There are books about grant writing and fundraising for my workly pursuits and books about life after death and grief for my sadly pursuits.  Today I got up to use the bathroom and lost my seat.  When I came back, I got a great seat in a little cubicle next to some AWESOME books.  I wanted to pull every one of them off the shelf and read them right then and there.  That's when I realized I was in the Young Adult Section.  Twilight, Gossip Girl, and other teen romance stuff.  I am not incredibly mature.  Next time I need a breather, I should probably just follow my impulse and pick up one of the teen books.  Anything to give the grieving brain a rest.

The coolest thing happened in my therapy last week.  My therapist stood up and came over to my chair and said that she thought I looked tense.  Then she started giving me a shoulder massage.  She has STRONG hands.  "Man Hands" even!  All I could say was, "Have you had these hands the whole time I have been seeing you?  We have lots of time to make up for!".  I have now received two sessions with shoulder and FEET massage as well. So, I get to do regular talk therapy and get a rub down.....TOGETHER!  All therapists should combine the two practices.  Perhaps that will be my next professional pursuit - combo therapy.  I have left feeling lighter two weeks in a row now!

I had a really yucky realization this week.  I think that some people say insensitive stuff about moving on and whatever because Max was a baby.  I mentioned it to another bereaved parent who lost a three year old and he agreed.  He thinks people probably don't consider a baby to have had a full personality or as deep of a connection to us.  He even had an example of someone who said something about how SIDS babies aren't as big of a loss as other children.  The realization came on the heels of reading about a woman who participates in the same online SIDS forum as me.  She said that another SIDS mommy, who also lost a 9 month old, made a comment about not relating to parents of SIDS babies who weren't as old as her 9 month old.  From what I gather, she felt that her loss was more significant because her baby was older than most SIDS babies.  What I can say is this: while I feel angry all day long that Maxie lost his life to SIDS, I am grateful all of the time that I got him a few months more than the average parent gets with their SIDS babies.  It breaks my heart that someone lost their baby at 7 weeks and never got to do the stuff that Max and I did together and it breaks my heart that someone lost their baby at 3 years old and built so many memories with their child.  It breaks my heart that we have the shared experience of having our dreams and hopes for our futures with our children that we loved devastated.  What breaks my heart even more is that these beautiful, deserving, well-loved children didn't get to do everything that they were put on this earth to do.  It kills me that we, who LOVED our children, who wanted our children and felt so blessed to have them, lost them.  Our grief therapist says to "Compare is to Despair" - it doesn't make you feel any better.  While Max may have never uttered one word, I communicated with him better than I have with anyone else in my life.  We got each other - that's love!

Hey - I got a "shout out" on my new friend Molly's blog.  She also posted a photo of us.  I think it is the first photo that has been taken of me since Max died.  It is NO BUENO!  I am looking much worse than I even thought.  I could have sworn I put on my awesome emphasEYES liner and Color Me Beatiful mascara on Tuesday.  I think I need to work on my hairstyle next.  It's BAAAD.  Anyway, she looks cute - I think she is naturally photogenic too!  Check it out - you can see all of the cute photos of her trip to California: http://jacksonparkcity.blogspot.com/2012/02/schizophrentic-vacation.html and you can see what I mean when I say it is obvious how crazy they are about their little boy (because he is SO super cute) and how much their darling Lucy is still with them all of the time.

Beauty Products for the Bereaved Woman

Honestly, I am less than beautiful these days but I HAD to write about the eye makeup that I discovered since Max's passing.  I cry all day long and it doesn't come off.  If I wear make up to therapy, I am surprised to look in my rear view mirror upon returning to my car to see that it hasn't even smudged.  I wish I had known about this in my happy years.  I could have looked so much more put together while surfing or swimming or lounging around in the jacuzzi.  Sadly, I am not sure that the mascara is available in the US.  My cousin Sharon brought me two tubes from Mexico.  She was wearing it the week she was here for Maxie's funeral.  We went swimming and when she came up out of the water, she looked like a Maybelline commercial - only her brand is called "Color Me Beatiful" and yes, that is how it is spelled right on the product.  It seems to be trademarked that way as well.  I am thinking if cousin Sharon plays her cards right, she could be the US "Color Me Beatiful" distributor.  It doesn't come off until I take it off.  It doesn't smudge or give me raccoon eyes.  And, I cry so much I hardly use a tissue.  I usually just use the back of my hand - and STILL no smudge.  Amazing!  Secondly, I am using a new eyeliner - "Tarte - emphasEYES"  I use the it in blue.  It comes with a little liner brush and goes on wettish but then it dries and literally doesn't come off until I take it off.  Again, back of hands, tissue....NOTHING is taking this stuff off my eyes.  My tears DO unfortunately streak my foundation but it isn't too noticeable, unless I am in the sun.  Next on my list is to find a good waterproof foundation.  Now, I honestly only wear makeup about 3-4 days out of the week but it is nice to know that I have found stuff that suits my new lifestyle of crying all of the time.  I also carry eye drops with me most of the time, but can't really be bothered with them usually.  I would love any other tips anyone else has to share!

My friend who I do know (now)

Yesterday was the most normal I have felt since Max's shiva ended.  I met Molly and her family before they left to go back home to Park City.  We were supposed to meet on Sunday but they all came down with a bug.  So, yesterday, I picked up lunch and went over to meet them at the house they were staying at in West LA.  She was so much better in 3D.  She was sweet and warm and compassionate.  And, although, our stories are so much different in the ways that we lost our children, our stories as bereaved parents are very similar.  We both lost our first and only.  We were both in the hospital with our children while they were hooked up to life support.  We both watched our children die.  We both suffered (in my case, am still suffering) from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  The way she described the most horrible scenes flashing in front of her at all times of day without warning was so familiar.  I always think about Maxie's beautiful smile and sweet disposition (and his tiny little hands, and chubby feet and perfect belly button) but I never know when those terrible scenes of him in the hospital will come rushing over me.  They make a lot of surprise attacks and it is really scary.  I met her husband Vic and their almost three year old son, Peter, too.  It was a really eye opening experience for me to see just how much they love their little boy.  I feel like I could never love another child as much as I love Max even though intellectually I know that can't be true.  A lot of what Vic told me about his experience mirrors what I see Ted going through as well.  Next time, I hope we can all meet together.  This family has been in the trenches and they are on their way out but Lucy is so with them still.  I know that they both still struggle and they told me that even still, almost four years later, they wake up and can't believe that it actually happened.  It was also the first time I have spent time with a little kid in months.  Gosh - I just love kids.  He was so full of energy and love.  I felt a little stab in my heart when he climbed onto his mommy's lap.  I longed for Maxie so much when I saw Peter get into his car seat with his little bee blankie and fall asleep.

Something I found interesting and that actually made me jealous really (if one can even BE jealous of another bereaved parent) was that she didn't relate to a lot of the strange comments I have received since Max died.  Nobody compared her loss to the loss of their dog or anyone else for that matter.  People in her community seemed to really understand that the loss of a little girl was incredibly tragic, not just something you get over.  That to be a parent, having to live each day without their child, was not the order of the world and shouldn't be.  She thinks that perhaps it was because so many members of her community were at church with them the day that Lucy choked.  It was their trauma too.  Yesterday evening I received an email from a bereaved parent who told me that one friend had made a comment about how the couple needed to be strong for their remaining child.  Bereaved parents KNOW these things.  We don't need you to tell us.  Mostly what we are thinking is "Easy for YOU to say".  The friend later apologized and the couple felt that perhaps the friend was just trying to be strong in the moment and forgot to be compassionate.  I am impressed that the friend even thought to apologize.  My experience has been that I have had to spell out in great detail exactly why hurtful comments hurt me to the person who made the comment.  Usually they even get defensive and mad at me in response for daring to say that they hurt me.  Anyway, it struck a chord.  Is that what has been going on?  Are people trying to be strong "for us" so that they don't have to be compassionate?  Or, because they feel strength is more important than compassion?  Or because they are just uncomfortable with compassion?  Ugh.  I don't need strong.  Ted and I have to be strong every day just to keep on living.  All I ever wanted was some compassion. I don't need your strength.  I know it isn't hard for you to be strong.  You didn't lose a child.  I know it might be a little harder for you to be compassionate - I think you are up for the challenge.

Another thing that I took away from my visit with Molly was to not feel bad about talking about Max when people ask me if I have children.  I struggle with this question.  Ted came up with a good answer to the one random stranger who asked him.  He said, "It's complicated" and left it at that.  A guy probably won't push any further.  Women usually do though.  I often say, "I had a son, but he passed away almost seven months ago".  When I say that, people look at me like I just ruined their day.  Or, they ignore it completely, like I never said it at all.  Molly told me she also just tells people about Lucy.  She said she doesn't tell them to punish them or make them feel uncomfortable.  She tells them because they asked.  If it takes people out of the comfort of their daily fog, then so be it.  We don't get the luxury of a protective shield.  I am already suffering day in and day out.  I don't really need the added stress of worrying how my loss will affect strangers.  I don't think I could ever say just say "No, I don't have any children".  I have a son whom I love very much, who lived a beautiful life, whose life had so much meaning, whose existence changed my life forever.

I loved meeting Molly, Vic and Peter.  Next time I see them, there will be a little girl with them too as Molly is five and half months pregnant.  We talked about dreams.  I told her that I dream about Max every single night now.  Usually I have bad dreams but once in a while, they are wonderful.  She told me that she has only dreamt about Lucy a few times since her passing.  That made me sad.  Last night, I actually dreamt about Molly and Lucy.  I dreamt that Lucy was sitting down in a chair and reaching for her mommy and that Molly was standing next to her and couldn't see her.  She did, however, have a smile on her face and her hands on her pregnant belly.  My subconscious brain wants to believe that Lucy is coming back to her.  Wouldn't that be lovely?

Valentine's Day

Love has taken on so many different meanings in our home over the past few years.  First there was falling in love.  Ted and I going from loving each other to realizing that we were so much in love that we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together.  Making a commitment to stay together for better or worse.  Then finding out that we were going to have a baby.  I felt our love grow in the recognition that we would soon be starting a family and that brought us so much closer together.  When Max was born, a completely new definition of love was born as well.  A love neither of us never knew was possible.  A love that outshines everything else on the earth.  All-consuming, completely mesmerizing, unselfish in every way - love.  Then feeling that love grow with every squeak, cry, smile, giggle, kiss, bath, new skill.  A brand new love.  Never before have I felt a single emotional transform so much over the course of such a very short time.  Then Maxie's passing.  The desperate love we felt in the hospital, clinging to his very presence, clinging to hope and every word out of every mouth of every doctor, nurse, hospice worker, specialist.  Losing that love and feeling so much more heartbroken than any heartbreak either of us had ever felt before.  Watching each other grieve, realizing that sometimes we were more lonely together than apart, feeling too much pain to help the other one, knowing that all the while, our love was still growing - for each other and for Max.  Life is hard - love is harder.


Every Valentine's Day for 10 years, my husband makes a CD of love songs.  It started with another girlfriend and has probably gone to one or two others before me.  He spends many months collecting songs that perhaps do a better job at times articulating how he feels about love.  This year the songs will be different.  This year the love songs include lyrics about intense heartbreak and loss.  My heart breaks just thinking about listening to the CD.  He will probably kill me for saying this but I don't think it makes him any less manly that I know he cries listening to sad music in his car.  Before this, I can remember him telling me that he never cried.  I never saw it before.  I think his car is the only place he feels like he doesn't have to be strong.  He lost his son and he is strong all of the time.  When I think about how hard that must be, my whole body hurts.  Imagine coming home to a wife that doesn't even try to be strong - who has lost all hope, who feels totally defeated.  And yet, he comes home every night and kisses me and makes me feel loved and even sometimes makes me laugh.  Without him, I'd be even worse off than I am - unimaginable.  He should have a place that he feels comfortable to break down.  He tells me he is angry at life and I am so, so angry for him.  He is such a good man, such a good son, brother, husband, son in law, friend, FATHER.  I am mad at life for him because I love him so very much.  This Valentine's Day I am thinking about my boys and how very much I love them both - their hearts, their souls, everything about them. 
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I wanted to remind everyone who plans on coming to the March 15th, Benefit for Maxie's Forest to purchase your tickets!  You can easily do it online by going to http://www.jnf.org/about-jnf/events/2012/benefit-for-maxie-leviss.html.  It is $40 a person (not including a two drink minimum).  $50 at the door, assuming that there are still seats available.  We will have a terrific silent auction and some raffles too.  If you cannot come, please consider sponsoring a runner/walker in the 5k we are doing on Saturday, March 17th.  You can see the few tribute pages that have gone up by going to: http://www.jnf.org/support/tributes/in-memory-of-max-leviss.html and clicking on the participant you would like to sponsor (So far we have my mom and brother, Beth and my friend Ann!).  Also, my friend Ann's work-out studio of choice, Pure Barre, in Brentwood is holding two donation classes to raise money for Maxie's Forest.  How incredible is that?  Thank you to Ann and to the folks at Pure Barre for supporting our sweet boy's memory.  The classes will be held on February 25th at 1:30 and 3:00 pm.  Ann says it is an awesome work out so maybe go and try it out for the first time, knowing that you are contributing to Maxie's Forest while you sculpt your new fabulous figure: http://purebarre.com/CA-losangeles/index.html.  The address is 11819 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 213.  If you would like to set up a Tribute Page, or just walk with us the day of the 5k, here is the information:


To participate in the fundraising effort (ie - send an email to your friends and family and ask them to sponsor you for the walk to raise money for Maxie's forest), you can set up your own fundraising page.  Click here: JNF Tribute Sites,  and select "Tribute Pages".  When you create the page, you choose either honor, memorial or personal.  Choose "Personal".  You can name the page (where it asks for "Tribute Name") whatever you like or just name it "Maxie's Forest".  You can then design your own tribute page.  I can't see the whole form but if they ask for an "RN" or "Recognition Number", you can enter RN110241.  If you want to include a photo of you, of you running, of you and Max, of you and your family....whatever, you can do that.  Or, you don't have to.  If you want to include a photo of Max.  I am happy to send you a few to choose from or maybe you can pull one off my blog.  Please send me the link (teddyabby at gmail dot com) to your tribute site when you are done creating it so that we can put them all on one website together.  Also, I've learned you can register for the 5k online.  Click here: Link to register for 5k.  We will try to figure out a place to meet up in the morning so that we can all walk together.

I woke up to use the bathroom this morning at 3:30 am and didn't fall back asleep until 5:30.  I couldn't stop thinking about Max in the hospital.  He was hooked up to so many machines - to help him breathe, to monitor his heart, to monitor his brain activity (of which there was none), IVs.  Looking at my small child (MY CHILD!) lifeless like that on the big, big hospital bed is a nightmare that will stay with me forever.  It is part of my post-traumatic stress.  The scene of Ted and I saying our goodbyes to Max plays over and over in my head.  It might be too much to read about.  I know it is too much for me to think about (but I can't help it).  We had to watch our child die....understand?  We had to be by the bedside (sometimes in the bed) of the little boy we CREATED and watch him die.  When you wonder why I am not over it, remember how many pieces there are to this story of ours.

To be honest, I am losing hope.  Just when I think I am in the darkest place, it gets darker.  I can't think of anything other than "How can I live one minute more without my beautiful baby?"  The solution seems to be a combination of hardening my heart, numbing out, distancing myself further from life, accepting that he is gone, accepting that it is over.  I want to stop feeling.  While I intellectually know he is gone, my heart won't accept it.  It is too dark.  I am searching for him everywhere - in meditation, in prayer, in my dreams.  Where is my Maxie?  How long can I sustain this hell before I break for real?

Accepting Faith

Ugh - knowing I can't do this one more day and also knowing that I have to is TORTURE.  How can I even do this one more day?  Even one more day will take all of the strength that I can muster.  Having to do this for my whole lifetime = Impossible.  Am I repetitive or what?  Imagine being in my head!  It never stops....which is why every hour is torture.  Nobody should feel this much pain.  NOBODY.  Still, there are people all over the world who have lost children, and I marvel at them.  I read about how they continue on with their lives somehow and I know I cannot do it.  Could it be that I am the weakest person who has suffered this tragedy?  Or, is it that everyone feels like I do but they also have no choice?  It is probably the latter.

I have an ongoing fantasy.  It is me, at the end of my life.  I am lying in a bed, old and dying, and I am happy...looking forward to what comes next, knowing I will finally be reunited with my baby.  My eyes have grown weary and I need no more strength to get through my days, because I know that there are no more days to suffer through.  I am having deathbed visions of Maxie coming to me, welcoming me to come with him, to spend all of the rest of eternity by his side.

If only I could fast forward time and be there now.  It is so cruel that I have to wait to get there.  If I knew that was coming, perhaps I could begin to enjoy the time spent waiting. I think about the years before I met Ted, never knowing if I would meet him.  While I enjoyed those years a lot, the uncertainty of whether I would ever find my life's partner always made me uneasy.  At a certain point, I just decided to believe it would happen, and it did.  Ted believes that we will be reunited with Max.  He doesn't even question it.  To question it would be too terrible to even think about, he says.  I am a born skeptic though and I can't just believe.  This is why I am finally convinced that faith is important.  I don't care what the faith is but it is vital to have some kind of faith to make it through a tragedy like this.  If I can hang on to my fantasy: when I feel that I KNOW Max will be with me again, my breath comes a little easier.  Another piece of my new normal - the skeptical self must be laid to rest before she just dies of hopelessness.

I am jealous of the old people I see.  I am sad for those that fear death.  This probably sounds insensitive to the sick and dying and I am so, so sorry.  Sometimes I envy them.  Waking up every morning and knowing I have to do this again, and then again, and then again, and then every day from now on...it's just a nightmare.  If I ever had to go through this again, I know I wouldn't make it.  I am constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.  I have to start making an effort to believe the tragedy in our lives ends with Max and that we will see him again and that time it will last for eternity.  I can actually feel his weight in my arms when I think about taking him out of his car seat and carrying him into daycare. I love him and long for him so much.  I can't believe I have to do this again today.

Perdido Sin Ti

Yesterday kicked my ass.  Just when you think you've seen how incredibly cruel life can be, you get a close up view of how cruel people can be.  I have had the theme song from the show "Damages" in my head all week:
When I get through with you
There won't be anything left....
When I get through with you
There won't be anything left...


It must be the Heavens serenading my soul.  I certainly get the point.  There is barely anything left.  I spent most of yesterday morning shaking, literally shaking.  Fear, anger, frustration, deep sorrow.  I will not leave this lifetime without having felt the full range of human emotions.  Is there anything left?  Probably - Greed, ego, loss of humanity.....I haven't felt them myself but I have seen them  - more up close in the last six months than ever before.


Two nights ago, I dreamt about my sweet boy.  I changed his diaper, twice.  That is just like I remember.  He always waited until I just about had his new diaper on to pee straight up into the air and all over the fresh new one (and my hands).  I cleaned him (and me) up and then just stood there, hovering over him, admiring all of his cuteness, cupping his face in my hands and kissing him.  Sometimes dreams can't last long enough.  Some people have told me that when I have those dreams, it is Max himself, making a visit to me to let me know he is ok and he is with me.  I am not sure then, how we explain the nightmares....of which I have so many.  If 4 out of every 5 dreams is a nightmare and the 5th one is sweet - I'll take it.  I love being with him in the sweet dreams.  I long to be with him all of the minutes of my day.


I have another song running through my head.  If you really know me, if you are one of my nearest and dearest, you won't be at all surprised to know that my song is by Ricky Martin.  While I love all types of music, my favorite is the kind en Espanol.  "Perdido Sin Ti" - Lost without you.  Obviously it's a love song, like most of the music that makes us think of our Max.  


I am lost without you
Don't leave me alone without you


This loss doesn't leave me alone
Stay in my house


Don't go.  Without you I lack everything
Wait - without you there's nothing left


Love. Stay. Love
Stay all of my life
Stay. I'm lost without you

Follow the Rules

I wrote a blog post this morning about SIDS and the recommendations for how to safely put a baby to sleep.  Unfortunately, I was told to take the post down.  I say unfortunately because this blog is my only solace.  The only place where I can "freely" express myself.  So, since putting the post back up could result in some kind of action against us, I will instead just put part of it back up.

The prevailing theory of why certain children die of SIDS has to do with the amount of oxygen in their breathing space and whether they are able to move their face out of the way to get the air needed to keep breathing.  The leading researchers in the country believe that some children may have a brain stem abnormality that sets off a series of events that end in a child's death.  It happens very quickly and in most cases, the baby is otherwise healthy.  It is unexpected, sudden and certainly so tragic.  The American Pediatrics Association therefore recommends that babies are put to sleep on their backs with nothing else in the crib.  They should not be in there with blankets, stuffed animals, pillows/boppies or anything else.  Just a fitted mattress sheet and the baby.  Now, I have said this before but there are children who have died even under the most safe sleeping conditions.  Babies die in slings, strollers, car seats, and while being breastfed.  Plenty of babies also live even when they are put down under improper sleep conditions.  The issue is how much oxygen is in their breathing space.  The recommendations are made to ensure the best chance for ample oxygen.

So, the thrust of my previous post was to tell you that if you have a baby, are going to have a baby, take care of someone's baby, or are giving advice to someone about their baby - follow the guidelines.  The leading experts may still not understand what causes SIDS but they know a hell of a lot more than you do.  YOU DON'T KNOW BETTER!  Follow the rules. You have nothing to lose....except your baby's life.  I wouldn't wish this hell even on my worst enemy.  Just follow the rules.  You will never regret following them but you may regret not following them.

Renovations

I deactivated my Facebook account and I deleted the application from my iphone.  And while I won't be able to promote Maxie's benefit there and people won't just happen by my page and learn about Maxie, I think in the long run it will be better for my soul.  The benefits outweigh the "consequences" (a word that is mostly meaningless to me at this stage).  A quick email exchange with the daddy who writes Off the diving board was what finally pushed me towards making this decision.  I share his jaded view of social media since our sons died (ironic, since we both write blogs).  I should have done it a long time ago.  So - post away - talk about trading in your kids for new Jimmy Choos, gush about how cute your kid is and comment on everyone else's while you are at it, post one million photos of your baby's first day at preschool (not that you needed my permission....since you were doing those things anyway....as you should....as that is what Facebook is there for).  I am not there anymore and that part of my horror show is over for now.  Perhaps one day it will make sense again but not now.

And, speaking of getting rid of old stuff.  We (I should say Ted) is/are renovating our master bathroom and closet.  It has been the plan since we bought our house to tear out the back bathroom (I detest it) and our closets and for Ted to design and renovate the whole area.  The demolition begins this weekend.  So, I am cleaning out my closets and, like everything else I do, it makes me sad.  I have two bags filled with old dresses and suits - size 4s and 6s.  So many cute clothes.  Colorful, some sexy, some professional, some pretty dresses, some fitted suits.  I put them all in the bags to give away to Goodwill.  I can't picture myself ever wearing them again.  Unlike everyone else I know who lost their baby weight and has a beautiful, healthy baby (or more than one) to love: back in their pre-pregnancy clothes, enjoying their lives, I never lost the weight of having my beautiful baby and I don't even have my baby to show you why it was all worth it (though OBVIOUSLY it was) - Even though I did Weight Watchers for breastfeeders from 6 weeks post pregnancy until 8 months, even though I did kickboxing and walking all over the neighborhood and trying to squeeze visits to the gym into my schedule when I could, even though I switched to the regular Weight Watchers program when Max stopped breastfeeding and I started cycling for an hour 3 days a week.  Even still - I was still many pounds overweight when Max stopped breathing and I never lost it - even though most days afterwards I forgot to eat until dinner time.  And, honestly, most of me doesn't even care.  I spent so much time in my first 37 happy years worrying that I wasn't thin enough, or pretty enough, that I didn't have good enough skin or hair or whatever.  I wish I could take it all back.  I look at old pictures of me and I think - "That girl WAS pretty enough.  She was happy."  I threw away all of my party clothes because I can't imagine ever going back to the party.  I can't imagine ever having an occasion to wear a fancy dress to or fitting into the fancy dresses I have anyway.  I feel stupid keeping any of it - so many pairs of shoes.  I have worn nothing but sweats and knock off UGGs for nearly six months now.  Sometimes people tell me that if I wore nicer clothes, I would feel happier....good advice, I'm sure, but NOTHING has fit me except maternity clothes since I got pregnant with Max.  Lucky Ted!  You see, I am not only mourning the loss of Max, I am mourning the loss of myself, which I am much less sad about losing, but still sad nonetheless.

Another good reason to have deactivated my Facebook account.  I have no plans of updating it with anything other than information about Max, which you can read right here if you want.  I won't be posting photos of me at a party or dancing with my baby or wearing the suit and posing with my donors....because I don't do any of those things anymore.  My new normal.....aren't you jealous?

Breakdown

I was going to go to yoga this morning but I can't get out of bed yet.  I am too sad.  I dreamt about Max again last night.  That we had to give him up for adoption.  He went to friends of ours, friends we really haven't heard from in real life since Max's funeral.  Since I don't talk to these people anymore, I knew it meant I would never see Max.  Maybe I could get updates about him from mutual friends.  The nurses pulled him out of my arms and I screamed and cried...."Don't take my baby!".  Oh god!  Again, reality is SO much worse. What kind of a life is this that I am living?  I wish god would just take pity on me and strike me down.  It's much too painful being here and living this nightmare day in and day out (the terrible nights, over and over).

Sunday, before the Superbowl, I had a breakdown of epic proportions.  And, yes, I understand that Sunday was supposed to be Teddy's day but the series of events and the idea of Max not being here to enjoy a lifetime of football with daddy just killed me.  When I woke up and started looking for photos of Max in his Giants gear, it sent daggers through my heart.  The photo of him in the bouncy chair with jeans was in a folder entitled "Maxie 11 weeks".  He was only 11 weeks old and grinning from ear to ear.  The same grin he would later have sitting in his bumbo chair months later.  I'm not sure why but knowing that he just started out that happy breaks my heart in a million pieces.  Ted and I went to breakfast - a place we have been eating on the weekends lately because there are usually no children.  Ted likes to go out to breakfast.  I find it rather hard because there are always kids.  We compromise and go either Saturday or Sunday...not both.  When we pulled up to the restaurant, there was a family getting out of their car - man, wife, baby about a year and a half.  Maxie would be about this baby's age.  This baby was toddling around and was cute and so we waited to see where they would sit and picked a seat far away.  I hate that this is our life now!  I absolutely HATE running away from children all of the time but I cannot see them.  We left the restaurant and Ted wanted to "off road" to Glendale.  He was excited to go to Whole Foods to get fancy snacks for the game.  We drove through the foothills of Burbank and Glendale and looked up all of the properties for sale on our iphones (even though I hope the next house we buy is FAR, FAR away from here!).  When we got out of the hills and onto the grid again, I looked up to see we were 1/2 a block from Max's pediatrician office.  I lost it!  I crumbled.  I avoid driving anywhere near there.  I even avoid looking up on the freeway at the exit sign when I have to drive on the 134 past the doctor's exit.  Just like I avoid driving on Riverside Drive by the daycare Max attended.  Just like I avoid driving by St. Joseph's hospital where Max was brought by the ambulances.  My whole life is avoidance.  I avoid people.  I avoid places.  I avoid topics,  I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE!!!!!  Why won't god take pity on me?  I HATE the pediatrician!  I hate him with all of my soul and he isn't the only one I blame and hate.  Was my baby not important enough to take good care of?  He was a human being!  He had his whole life ahead of him!  And, he was happy and sweet and he was the center of my universe and he would have had the most happy life and now he is gone.  Now he is gone and I am broken.  I am not the person I was.  I HATE the new me.  I HATE my "new normal".  My new normal SUCKS!!!!!!!!  We had a beautiful life.  We never did anything to hurt anyone.  We were good people.  We loved our son more than anything.  

Ted had to take me home before turning around and going back to the market.  I literally fell apart in the car.  It took a few hours to start functioning again.  And, that's all I do now....function.  When I am lucky, I am like a robot....with a dying battery.  I used to get a lot done.  I made my own baby food and I pumped a zillion times a day and I worked full time and took care of Max and made dinner every night and took conference calls at stupid times of day when I was trying to bathe my baby and went to events for work in the evening (time with Max I will never get back).  But, I made it all work.  And, then one day, I dropped him off at daycare and kissed him goodbye (my love) and he stopped breathing.  The next thing I knew, my family and I were in a hospital for three days praying for a miracle.  I am so sick of this life and it simply keeps repeating day after day after miserable F'ing day.

And I am SO angry!!!!!  So YOU move on!  YOU find something to be happy about!  YOU snap out of it!  YOU count your blessings!  My child never had a birthday party!  My child never tried frosting and birthday cake!  My child was sweet and happy and smiled from ear to ear and nobody bothered to keep him alive!!!!!!!   I can't take one more day of this.  Not one more hour.  Not one more minute.  But, as soon as I am done writing this, I have to find the energy to keep going and robot my way through another stupid, miserable day.

No common thread

Now that the Giants won the Superbowl, Ted actually placed the order for the new couch.  He wanted to keep the Ikea blue that he'd sat on for this whole season before moving on.  Sometimes Ted is a little superstitious about stuff like that.  The couch should be in our living room by mid-March.  I only mention it because the few people who have been over have all asked me what this thing is still doing in our living room. So, now you know.  

Yesterday I went to physical therapy and the guys who usually see me were unusually busy and so I saw a woman named Anna instead.  She is the first one to have actually found the tendon in my ankle that is so messed up (even my podiatrist couldn't actually pinpoint the exact place).  She massaged it for like 20 minutes.  It was awesome.  Then she iced it, whereas the other dudes had been heating it.   I changed all of my upcoming appointments and now I am only seeing her.  I think it will make a big difference.

This is specific to anyone who is watching The Bachelor with me....what is up with his hair? Does he think that just because he is the Bachelor that he can just let it be parted down the middle and put no effort in at all.  It is the worst hair ever.  Even Ted had to comment last night.  It is bad.

I am excited to potentially meet one of my friends who don't know me this weekend.  I exchanged a couple of emails with Molly yesterday and she just so happens to be coming to LA this week to visit friends.  Being able to connect with someone else who knows what I am going through - who understands why I haven't snapped out of it after six months, who knows what it's like to feel like you cannot take one more step - let alone put "one foot in front of the other", who knows not only what it is like to lose your baby, but to lose yourself, who has to go through life missing the sweet face of the person you loved most - it is so "comforting".  Plus, even though I don't know her, I really like her (do I sound kind of stalkerish?)  I feel really lucky that she is making time to visit with me while she is here.

Clearly no common thread - just a bunch of stuff to "fill" my days.

Giants win the Superbowl for my boys!

I found myself really emotional about the Giant's Superbowl win yesterday.  Waking up and finding all of the photos of Max in his Giants gear really pierced my heart.  While sports generally have very little bearing on my emotional state, football weighs heavily on Ted's mind.  I know that some of Ted's very earliest bonding with Maxie came in the form of buying Giants baby outfits and getting his baby dressed up for the Sunday games.  Yesterday was just a really emotional day anyway, but I won't get into it all now.

It was a really exciting game.  Ted was pacing and pulling his hair out for most of the fourth quarter.  Now, I never knew a thing about football until I met him, but he has devoted a lot of time over the years to teaching me how the game works.  I still don't totally get all of the details,  but I do know good drama when I see it.  Yesterday was really good drama.  Now, obviously we would always want the Giants to win, but this year was really important.  Mostly because I really felt that Ted finally needed a reason to feel some happiness in his heart.  Even a moment of happiness means so much these days.  The Giants winning the Superbowl would be really BIG for Ted and so I know lots of people wished it for him.  So, the win was awesome and dramatic and Ted really felt like Maxie had a hand in it.  I couldn't help but think of all of the football games Ted will miss watching with his son.  I couldn't help but think of Max missing out on all of Ted's football lessons....and the moments they will never have throwing a ball around in our backyard.  I couldn't help but think of the fact that Maxie is buried in his blue flannel Giants PJs.  I couldn't help but think that he should have been on the couch next to us, 16 months old, smiling and clapping.  Anyway, like I said, it was a really emotional day.

Super Bowl Sunday

Super Bowl Sunday!!!   Teddy's day has finally arrived.  He woke up early, as usual, and read all sorts of Giants sportsy stuff online.  He is pretty excited.


I actually dreamt about the Super Bowl last night...sort of.  We were in Catalina with a bunch of people we knew, for the purpose of watching the Super Bowl.  Everyone was decked out in Giants gear.  Maxie was there.  He was looking so cute and we snuggled so much.  Then he died.  I could rewind time like a video camera and relive my last snuggles but I couldn't move forward at all.  So, I just kept rewinding and rewinding and rewinding.  I was pretend gnawing on the back of his neck and he smelled so good.


My friend Ann offered to help recruit people for the 5K on Saturday, March 17th.  As I mentioned, a bunch of us will walk it.  We are thinking of doing t-shirts again so please tell me if you are going to walk and/or if you want one.  No last minute orders and no shirts without checks this time.  Only order one if you really intend to buy one.  I will post details once we decide if we REALLY want to go back into the t-shirt business.


If you want to participate in the fundraising effort (ie - send an email to your friends and family and ask them to sponsor you for the walk to raise money for Maxie's forest), you can set up your own fundraising page.  Click here: JNF Tribute Sites,  and select "Tribute Pages".  When you create the page, you choose either honor, memorial or personal.  Choose "Personal".  You can name the page (where it asks for "Tribute Name") whatever you like or just name it "Maxie's Forest".  You can then design your own tribute page.  I can't see the whole form but if they ask for an "RN" or "Recognition Number", you can enter RN110241.  If you want to include a photo of you, of you running, of you and Max, of you and your family....whatever, you can do that.  Or, you don't have to.  If you want to include a photo of Max.  I am happy to send you a few to choose from or maybe you can pull one off my blog.  Please send me the link (teddyabby at gmail dot com) to your tribute site when you are done creating it so that we can put them all on one website together.  Also, I've learned you can register for the 5k online.  Click here: Link to register for 5k.  We will try to figure out a place to meet up in the morning so that we can all walk together.


I'll finish up with some photos of Maxie sporting his favorite team's gear.  Go Big Blue!

Drowning

Words are so inadequate.  Grief, Sadness, Anguish, Despair.  All inadequate.  Phrases aren't much good either "New Normal", "One breath at a time", "Rainbow Baby", "Baby Loss Momma (BLM)".  They are all weird sound bites that make no sense to my ears.  They make even less sense to my heart.  Most days, I feel like (no, I KNOW that) I don't have what it takes to get through this.  I know that I don't have it in me to go through life like this.  I am paralyzed and I don't have enough support (is there even such a thing as enough support).  Once a week Ted and I have a grief counselor.  Once a week, I see someone on my own.  I am so lucky to have Ted, but remember that he is suffering too.  (In the earliest days, people advised us to "lean on each other"...a complete impossibility but I am sure a very nice image in their minds).  I have 2 or 3 friends who I see once a month or so (part of this is my own fault.  The majority of my friends just don't reach out to me.  Most of the other ones I know well enough to know that they wouldn't be much of a comfort and I want to spare them the effort.  Although, like someone banging their head against a wall, there are a few that I keep reaching out to that aren't there.  This week I decided to let them go.  If they are meant to come back in the future, they will).  I have other friends that I get very nice emails, texts, blog comments and voicemails from.  They are important communications that help keep me going.  I have my parents but they are in deep amounts of pain and they also have their own lives and I just don't think they are equipped for this either (who is really?).  I sort of feel like it is time for me to join a support group but just hearing another person's story of loss crushes my soul.  I despair thinking - Why is there so much pain in this world?  When I think about Max (which is basically all of the time), my whole chest tightens up and I can't stand being here.  Truly, I can't stand being here.  The alternative is not to think of my baby and that is even worse.  When I wake up, I know that I can't make it through another day but every day I make the decision to stay here one more day.  I stay here because there are a few hours in the evening, when Ted gets home, where I sometimes smile.  I stay because I am too scared to figure out how to leave.  I stay because it would be a dishonor to Max's memory to leave and because he deserves to have people here on earth who love him more than anything and will fight to keep his memory alive.  If Ted and I weren't around any more, I fear that all Max's memory would be put away on a shelf and never brought out again.  I won't allow that.  I stay because it would inflict even more pain on those people who love me, even if they cannot really be here for me.  I stay because there are probably people who think I am the strong person I used to be and will think that if I "checked out", maybe when things get hard they should also.  I would like to eventually be a role model for others who have to experience tragedy in the future (because, like it or not, I am not the last one we know who will have to go through a terrible, tragic, catastrophe).  Even if it gets easier with time (because some people say it does), the thought of going through life, even with flashes of this pain, it's too much for me to even think about.  How does anyone survive the death of their child?  I really don't understand.  I know that I become more functional every day but functioning isn't living.  Really, I am not actually living.  I am drowning and I can't figure out how to come up for air.  Another Saturday.  Ted's home.  I am grateful that at least I today, I won't be so lonely.

Stroller naps

As is the case with many babies, Maxie sometimes had an easier time falling asleep when he was moving - in the car, or in the stroller, strapped to his momma....they all worked.  We live right by the LA equestrian center and on weekends, Maxie and I would go for a walk in the neighborhood and try to catch some baby Z's.

Here is Maxie in the Equestrian Center Stadium.  Not tired yet!

Getting pretty sleepy!

Asleep at last.  What a cute baby!

Awake again Mommy!

I miss you so much baby.  I can hardly breathe without you.  My heart is broken in a thousand pieces.  I love you more than anything.  You are my heart and soul.  

Why I think I have "outgrown" Facebook

I think I have outgrown Facebook.  And yet, I am still there.  I still feel like it is an important tool to share information about the work we are doing in Maxie's memory.  I feel like it is a way that people can know what happened to our little boy without me having to "reach out" and tell people.  If people read about Maxie on Facebook, perhaps I don't have to have a meaningless conversation about "What's new?" when I bump into them somewhere (because sometimes I actually DO leave my house....it is rare, but it happens).  Once in a while when I am feeling numb-ish, which I sort of did on Sunday, I will look at the Newsfeed.  Why do I do it when I know it is complete pain?  People who I know are only kidding often make jokes about their kids in their updates.....how their kid is so messy they wish they could trade her in, their kid is so fat they wonder if they should stop feeding him, how they would trade their kid for more Costco snacks, how they would rather be anywhere than with their kid, how they can't WAIT to get away from their kids and husband.  Those posts shake me to my core....they make me want to shake someone and scream.  I don't know what is more painful actually - those posts or the ones where the parents ooo and gooo all over their happy families and their beautiful children.  Those posts make me JEALOUS!  Why does this person have what I don't?  Why do they deserve happiness and I deserve unbelievable amounts of unrelenting pain?  Why does their child deserve to live and mine had to die?  The women who blissfully post pictures of their pregnant tummies and newborns (I was once one of those women too so I do actually get it).  The idea that they shouldn't be taking it for granted probably doesn't even cross their minds.  People who complain about the weather, people who complain about it being Sunday, people who complain about traffic, people who complain about tv personalities.....they can all SUCK IT as far as I am concerned!!!!  I shouldn't even look.  Why do I look?  Perhaps you should de-friend me.  I am 100% not the same person I was when you friended me.  For the first time in my Facebook history, I would rather see the picture of what someone ate for dinner and what is happening for them in Farmville.  I need to stay away from the newsfeed.  It is no good for my mental health.

This is different

If I died tomorrow, it would be sad.  My parents would mourn for me because they expected to outlive their children.  My husband would be left alone and it would be too much tragedy for one lifetime.  My friends would begin to fear their own mortality.  It would be sad.  That is for sure.  But, I have lived a very full life.  I had a wonderful childhood.  I grew up with loving parents and beloved brother.  I played sports.  I went to summer camp.  I was passionate about many things.  I had the opportunity to study in terrific schools.  I traveled all over the world.  I have made friends all over the world.  I have fallen in love.  I have fallen out of love.  I have broken hearts.  I have had my heart broken.  I have eaten cuisine from all four corners.  I have involved myself in the world around me.  I have retreated from the world around me.  I found the love of my life.  I had a beautiful baby, whom I loved more than life itself.  I have grieved his loss with every fiber of my being.  I don't know what the meaning or purpose of life is....but, I have lived.  I have lived every minute of this life that I have been given and for the most part, it was a really wonderful life.

Maxie had nine and a half months.  That was it.  Can you imagine what it feels like to have lived like I have lived and to have seen my child's life cut short?  The very few things that he experienced in this life were hardly even mentioned in my list above.  He never spoke.  He never crawled or walked.  He never ....gosh, he never got to do anything.  He didn't get to live a life.  And, that is it.  I waited my whole life for him to get here and he is already gone.  This is a different kind of loss.  If I died tomorrow, the loss would be for the people around me.  They would miss me and feel my absence.  Maxie's death isn't just our loss, it is his.  Sure, there are still things left for me to do...there will always be things left that I would like to do...but, I have done a lot.  I have done more than many do in a lifetime.  He lost the opportunity to have all of the experiences that we have all had (and your experiences are probably different than mine.....but you have LIVED.)  When anyone goes, they go too soon....and I don't care if they are 99 years old.  For the people that love them, it is too soon.  But when a child dies?   When a baby dies?  I am sorry.  It is different.  I am not only mourning the rest of my life without Max, I am mourning the life he doesn't get to live.  And, I truly believe that Ted and I would have given him a beautiful life.  He would have had a BEAUTIFUL life and that is what I mourn each and every minute of every day.

All sorts of stuff

I'll start with a few updates about fundraising for Maxie's Forest.  Our t-shirt project raised $1450, which is a whole lot of moolah!  So, thank you to everyone who bought a t-shirt.  If you for any reason just have not found the time to drop the check in the mail for the t-shirt that we sent you, we are still accepting payments so please don't be shy.  We hope you will wear your Team Maxie shirts with pride!

We are excited about the event on the 15th (http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2012/01/weekend-for-maxie.html) and that so many people have already signed up.  There is now an online registration up as well.  I will warn you ahead of time that it is possible that the confirmation you receive after registering will still have the old date.  We hope to fix that within the next day (thanks for pointing it out Courtney). http://www.jnf.org/about-jnf/events/2012/benefit-for-maxie-leviss.html.  So you know, you won't actually receive paper tickets to the event but your name will be on a list when you arrive.  The silent auction will have lots of great items - police ride alongs, several hotel stays and vacation homes (including a week at our home in Costa Rica and a weekend at Aunt Jan's Arrowhead house), unique experiences....I am excited about the donations we have received.  Shawn is working on the talent and has a few great comedians lined up.  It will be a fun night.

Remember that we are looking forward to a whole weekend of activities for Maxie and that there will also be a 5k and a marathon on Saturday the 17th and Sunday the 18th.  We are hoping that a group of people will join us for the 5k on Saturday.  We are planning to walk it (I am going to physical therapy twice a week for my ankle and will hopefully be all good by then).  My two friends, Jess Clements and Ann Frederick, have told me of their plans to run.  Please please let me know if you are planning to join us.  We are setting up a fundraising page this week for those of you who are inclined to use the event to help us raise money for Maxie's Forest as well.  Here is the information about the 5k.  http://www.lamarathon.com/event/la-5k/.  It is $35 to register and you can do it the morning of the event.

In other news - as I mentioned, I am going to physical therapy twice a week.  It is actually nice.  Mostly I lay there while they massage my foot, use the ultrasound on it to break up scar tissue and attach electrodes to stimulate the muscles.  Also, I have to do a few easy exercises.  Then I have to do exercises on my own twice a day.  I am again motivated by Maxie.  The physical therapy we did with him for his stiff little neck worked wonders (http://missingmaxie.blogspot.com/2011/11/maxies-physical-therapy.html).  I hope to make the kind of progress he did.  Yesterday the therapist was a new guy and he asked me how I hurt myself.  I told him that I ran a long distance in flip flops.  I told the same thing to the first therapist I had left it at that.  This guy started laughing and heckling me though.  So I said that I was actually at the hospital and needed to get to my car in a rush to follow an ambulance.  I wasn't smiling.  He continued heckling me and I should have just smiled and let it be, but instead I explained to him that the ambulance was carrying my son and that he ended up dying.  "What a bummer", the therapist said.  "Ya", I replied.  Then he said, "Well, you seem good now".  "Ya", I replied.  I should have kept my mouth shut.

As much as I say that I have given up trying to explain what is helpful for grieving parents to hear, I guess I am not really.  People still waste so much breath trying to convince me to be happy.  I WISH people could just hear that I am unhappy and be ok with that.  It is what it is.  I am not happy.  It is lunacy to think I would be happy and yet the argument continues and I am so, so tired.  I am just exhausted and I have WAY too much to worry about.  For the love of god, if you want to be helpful, accept me in my broken state for now.  Otherwise, please, please, please just leave me alone.  (Perhaps this is why I don't hear from so many of my friends?)  For those who are looking for accurate portrayals of what "this" feels like, I suggest reading "The Knitting Circle" or "Comfort" by Ann Hood.  Or, as some of my readers commented yesterday, rent "Rabbit Hole" with Nicole Kidman.  Warning - it isn't uplifting.  But, it is the truth.  As I mentioned yesterday, I don't think any of the movies that you normally see about grief do the process any justice at all.  And, I truly believe that the grief of bereaved parents is unique.  It is not the same as the grief of widows and widowers, or those who lose grandparents, friends, or anyone else.  Those griefs are unique as well.  I found this short video this morning.  One of my favorite bloggers, Heather Spohr, answers a woman asking how she should talk to her friend whose child is dying: http://www.momversation.com/momversation/loss-child-what-do-you-say.  As I continue to justify my feelings to well meaning friends day in and day out, I have to wonder if am I wasting my time.  I believe that for the most part I am.  But, there have been a few people who have come around over the last six months.  Thank you to those friends who have stood by us and made the effort to try to understand.  Ted and I both have appreciated your support so very much.

No happy ending

I wake up and realize that Max isn't there.  Where is he?  Oh, ya, he is sleeping at my mother's house.  I call her house, nobody picks up.  I call her cell.  No answer.  I call and I call and I call.  Then I remember that we all have an event we are going to, so maybe they have already left for the stadium.  I get in my car.  It won't turn on.  I try over and over.  It won't ignite.  I call again.  No answer.  I get my bike.  I ride and I ride.  I call at a stoplight.  Ringing and ringing.  My bike gets a flat tire.  I throw it on the sidewalk....I'll come back for it.  I call again.  Nothing.  I am running and running and running.  Finally, I get there.  I see my mother.  She is sitting with Max.  I yell, "Maxie!".  He sees me.  He smiles.  I run to him.  I take him in my arms.  I cry and kiss him and hug him.  What was I so worried about?  He is just fine.  He is just fine.  And then I wake up for real.  It is dark in the house.  Max is not here.  I remember he is dead.

In the movies, people don't grieve much past the funeral.  We watched the Descendants this past weekend.  Some people warned us not to watch it....it was too sad.  Too sad?  Not by a long shot.  Each family member had their one touching moment, their one medium sized cry or plea, and then done.  They were on the couch eating ice cream in the next scene.  No wonder nobody gets it.  Is that what you think grieving is?  You say a tearful goodbye and then go eat ice cream? No. Uh Uh.  Grieving is SO much more than that.  Ted says nobody would want to go watch a movie where the people continue to be sad after the funeral.  I would!  I bet other grieving people would.  Sad has only started at the funeral.  Horror only begins at the ER and when the life support gets pulled.  Then the questions REALLY start to swirl in your head.  What really happened?  Is there something someone isn't telling us?  Could we have left him on life support?  Would anything have changed?  Was I a bad parent?  Did I do something to deserve this?  How will I live without my baby?  Why would I even want to live without my baby?

The nightmares come and go but the ongoing real-life nightmare continues.  Haven't you learned yet that life is not a movie?  Sometimes there is no happy ending!

Photos of Maxie

People often write me and tell me that they want me to post more pictures of Maxie.  It is almost like they think that maybe I am withholding something.... but I know it is really because the posts about Maxie are more upbeat.  Less depressing.  Plus, I like to think it is because they have also fallen in love with his cute little face.  I wish I had albums full of Maxie photos.  I wish I had ENDLESS photos of my baby.  Much more than that, I wish he was still here for me to continue taking photos of (and to kiss his cheeks, and cook for him, and change him, and bathe him, and dance with him...you know the drill)...I'd post a picture every day.  Sadly, not only do I not have Maxie anymore, I also don't have endless photos of him.  I have a lot...but not enough...NEVER enough.  I wasn't a stay at home mom.  I was lucky that his daycare took photos of him a few times a week and emailed them to me.  We didn't take nearly enough videos of him (for this, I could just die..because I have to imagine him using my memory always and sometimes I can't trust my memory).  If I posted a photo of Max every day, it wouldn't last for more than a few months.  I know it would be better if I had a new story and photo of Max to share every day....but he was only here for 9 and a half months and he didn't get to make nearly as many memories or take nearly as many photos as he should have during his time on earth.

Another lonely Saturday

When it is a Saturday and Ted has gone to work, there is absolutely no reason to get out of bed.  In fact, I try to sleep as long as I can so that there are less hours in the day that I have to be awake.  On days like this when Maxie was alive, I would plan a whole day for him and I to enjoy together.  We'd walk through the neighborhood, or go visit grandparents, or play at home, or visit with friends.  I remember thinking how awesome it was to have Max, my little pal, so that I was never alone when Ted had to work.  I always had a playmate.

The house next door was empty for months until a few weeks ago when a family moved in.  They have 2 kids I think....Ted met them and told me but I don't remember.  Of course, he explained that he lived next door with his wife and two dogs.  That is our new family description, which is why I don't want to meet anyone new.  Anyway, these kids play outside all of the time.  The sounds of them playing make my heart race and the dogs get all worked up too.  Layla and Jake run outside and bark at the fence that separates our yards until I have to get out of bed, open the door and call them back in. Sometimes I shut them in my room until they calm down.  These kids must be homeschooled or something because the playing goes on all week long, all times of day.  I usually put on music or the television loud to drown them out.

Speaking of children, and I know I've already written all about this...but it is getting worse.  Last weekend, Suzy and I went to get manicures and a baby about eight or nine months old came in with his parents about 15 minutes after we sat down.  The two times I went to yoga last week, there were babies in my class.  On Monday, the baby was about the age Maxie would be and he was with his mommy sitting right behind me and my mom.  At one point, his mom was even breastfeeding him in the class.  He was a good boy.  So cute too.  With a little knit whale cap.  It is so incredibly painful!  Thursday, a mommy brought a little girl to the class.  She was probably just under a year.  She started crying early on and the teacher asked her to leave.  What a relief!  What I guess I still don't really get is why people bring their babies places that aren't super baby friendly.  I mean, there are baby and me classes at the studio.  Why bring the baby to an adult class when you know that it will bother people?  When Max was alive, I didn't really like bringing him places that people would glare at him because, honestly, I didn't want all of that negative energy on him.  It wasn't even about the people in the restaurant being bothered.  I don't think I cared about them so much.  I didn't like so much negative attention being aimed at my sweet pea.  Can someone explain the logic behind bringing the baby to non-baby friendly places?

I have to admit though, we brought Max and Sadie to Byblos sports bar in Costa Rica so that we could watch a Giants game.  I actually think that very few people even noticed and there are always children in random places there.  It is a sweet memory.  Maxie was wearing his helmet.  It felt like he was supporting the sport with his head gear.  I remember bringing him back to the pool table area to change his diaper.  He was such a good boy.

I've been missing him like crazy.  I cannot believe I have made it six months.  I have heard of people   dying of a broken heart and I think I keep expecting it to happen to me.  Instead, I am just living with this chronic pain.  I see his face everywhere I go.  I want to kiss baby cheeks and I have no baby to kiss.  I have no reason to get out of bed except for to say I've done it.  I cannot believe this is my life.