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.

Getting over you not getting over me not "getting over it"

A friend of mine lost someone very close to them a couple of years ago.  It was a fairly sudden loss and the person who passed was way too young....and a parent....and a supportive spouse.  My friend went into hiding, put his life on hold, looked for answers, stopped engaging in the celebrations of life, and became very depressed.  Many months afterwards, I remember thinking.....it is time for him to re-engage in life.  It is time for him to "move on".  His loved one would want him to enjoy life!
I had NO FRAKING CLUE!  In my heart, I meant well.  I wanted to see this person happy again.  I wanted to see the people around him happy again.  I had no experience at all to tell me that grief doesn't work that way.  I just didn't know any better.

I remind myself of that every time I hear people saying (to me directly or to others who then tell me) that Ted and I need to "snap out of it", that it is time for us to "move on".  They just have nothing in their experience at all to help them understand.  There seem to be two kinds of understanding people with respect to this situation - the people who get it because they have experienced tragic loss themselves and the people who get it because they trust that those of us who have been there are legitimately feeling authentic and "normal" feelings in response to a tragic loss.  The ones who don't get it, in my mind, believe that they know better...even though they have no experience to base that on.  I actually think it is extremely arrogant (and I admit that my feelings about my friend were based in complete ignorance).  My hope thus far has been that the ones who think they know better will begin to believe that what I am telling them (as someone who is actually experiencing the grief) is true.  That complex grief and tragic loss is not something that one gets over in six months.  If they can't learn that by trusting those of us who are going through it, I hope that they never will learn it themselves. Sadly nobody is immune from tragic loss.  It may just not have happened to you yet.  Tragedy can happen to anyone.  If it does, you can come to me to talk.  When others don't understand you, I will. What I am beginning to understand is that most of those people will not learn this....that instead, I will be the one to learn to accept the arrogance and ignorance of others.  I will learn coping mechanisms to be able to tune these people out.  They don't matter to me and my process at all.

I have often wondered over the last six months why nobody told me to "get over it" in the year or so following the break off of my engagement twelve years ago.  Friends and family continued to be supportive for as long as it took me to heal.  Six months after a divorce, most people are still hurting.  Six months is NOTHING.  I remember people saying to me that it takes half the time you were with someone to get over them completely.  So that if you were with someone for 4 years, it would take 2 years to get over them completely.  People "get it" because most people have had a broken heart at some point or another.  They remember it taking time to get through the loss.  You don't believe me....but you should....losing a child is not something that takes six months to get over. It just happened.

I am getting better at "getting over" these kinds of comments.  I spent a few hours yesterday fuming about the latest person I have heard is saying that I need to "snap out of it".  Then, I just snapped out of it (fuming, not missing Max).  Even though she was close to Max too (or so I thought), she just doesn't get it.  It seems she is getting bored of everyone being sad.  She never will understand unless something tragic happens to her and then I KNOW she would be destroyed.  She is the kind of person that gets very upset about much less.  When I see her, my expectations will be low.  I will not be surprised when she tells me that everything will be ok because I can have more children.  I will practice deep breathing and try to tune her out when she gets all worked up about things much smaller than losing a child.  The fact is, I am not getting closer to "getting over" Max...because that will never happen.  It is not even something I am striving for.  Rather, I am striving to eventually incorporate this loss into my life and find new hope and blessings.  Over the last six months, I have gotten incrementally better at coping with this very difficult life of mine.

You can think that we should behave any way you want.  But, don't EXPECT me, or Ted, or my mom, or my dad, or anyone who was close to Max to ever "get over" him.  He will be in our hearts and in our minds for the rest of our days.  If you are waiting for that magical day when we have moved on from Max, you will be waiting a long, long time.  And, I suppose if I am waiting for the magical day when you shut up about moving forward and getting over it, I will also be waiting just as long.

Bleary eyed baby

Maxie got really good at naps.  He napped every morning for an hour after his morning routine.  He napped again from 10am - 11:30 or 12.  He napped again from 3pm - 4/5 pm.  Little sleepy head.  But, he wasn't always a good napper.  When I first tried to get the naps on a schedule, he would cry and cry, which broke my heart too much.  Often, I "saved" him from the naps.  I couldn't bear to listen to his sobs.  Then I would be stuck with a bleary eyed little pumpkin, who always did his best to smile through his tears.

Conversations

Last night the nightmares came back.....STRONG!  Really bad ones.  I won't tell you about them all.  But, I will tell you about the one I had after finally falling back asleep at 4 am after almost 2 hours of lying awake with a racing brain.  I dreamt that another couple I know lost their child from SIDS too. They are a couple that I am friends with.  They had a baby around the same time as we had Max.  I dreamt that Bianca asked me why I hadn't called her yet...that she and I would be good support for each other.  I thought in my head about all of the cute Facebook photos I had seen of this baby and how sad that someone else I knew was going through this.  I thought of how sweet this couple is and it made me sick to know that their lives had been crushed like ours.  And, at the same time, I felt a huge relief that I had someone within my extended circle who could relate to me.  Someone who wouldn't see me as a freak show.  Someone who would know how hard this all is.  I woke up and remembered that this baby is still alive.  He is over one years old now.  He is probably super cute, but I wouldn't know because I avoid their Facebook photos.  I felt sad waking up and realizing that baby is alive and then I felt sick that any part of me wished that baby had died of SIDS.  

This super weird video was posted on another grieving mom's blog.  While I think it is so weird that they are all talking like robots, I also feel like most of the conversations I have with people about losing Max are robotic.  People are going through some weird motions with me.  Lots of times the conversations end with a proclamation about how the other person is going to go home now and hug their children extra tight.  (Strange.  When I broke up with my fiance, nobody told me that they were going to go home and hug their husband extra tight.  As taboo as that was, people still understood how to be sensitive to that much less of a big deal).  This is why I dread running into people.   I am afraid of weird robot conversations where I have to pretend anything at all is normal.  Luckily, I haven't had to have many of these conversations because I don't get out much.  My whole life, I have always run into people wherever I have gone.  When I was a teenager, this used to really impress my father.  Everywhere we went, I bumped into someone.  These days, I am trying to go places that I think nobody I know would go.  Honestly though, conversations like these don't only happen in person - they happen in emails and on Facebook and over the phone.  Makes me want to pack up and leave the country.  

Check ups

I used to look forward to taking Maxie to the pediatrician...is that sick?  I was excited to hear how well he was doing.  I liked to know how much he weighed and what percentile he was in for height and weight.  I liked knowing everything about him.  Most of all, I loved picking him up from daycare early and then getting to spend the afternoon with him.  I remember getting him a little early one day and then killing time with him in my car while we waited for the doctor's office to open after lunch.  I put on some music and the air conditioning and played with Maxie.  I had him stand on my lap and I sang, "I love everything about you!" (I think I might have made that song up) to him.  We smiled at each other.  I clapped his little hands together.  I covered his face in kisses.  Remembering these details breaks my heart.  I long to play with him like this again.  I remember talking to him and saying, "We are going to the doctor and he is going to give you a shot but I promise I won't ever let anything bad happen to you."  I meant it with all of my heart and then I failed.  I promised him I would never let anything bad ever happen to him and a week later he died.  When I looked into Maxie's eyes, I knew that there was nothing in my life, nothing at all more important than keeping this little boy safe.  And, I failed.  Everything else in the whole world is meaningless.

The way Max acted at the pediatrician was an inspiration to me.  I had a bad case of dequervains tendinites after having Max.  It is an acute pain that occurs in a mother's wrists after having a baby that makes them really weak.  I had to go to a hand specialist and have a shot of cortisone right in the wrist.  The needle was really long and it freaked me out....but, I thought about what a champion my little boy was every time he got a vaccination and figured, if he can do it, I can do it.  The fear went away and the cortisone shot corrected the problem immediately.

I remember once sitting at the pediatrician with Max on my lap, waiting in an examination room.  I was reading to him and he was sitting up very straight and was very happy.  The doctor came into the room and looked at us and he said, "He is in a good mood."  I said, "He is always like this," and the doctor said, "it probably helps that he is on his mommy's lap....his favorite place on earth".  Not sure why, but my heart swelled.  It is such a vivid memory.  Could it be that my lap was his favorite place on earth?  Having him on my lap was bliss.  My little man.  My little monkey.  My favorite person.  I am sick that I failed him, that I didn't protect him.  It is the only thing that ever mattered and now he is gone.

I Ain't Mad At'Cha

Look, I know there are people who are afraid to reach out to me because they worry they will offend me.  I know that people are closely monitoring what they are saying because they think I will get mad at them.  I also know that sometimes when I write about something that hurt me, lots of people think, "She is talking about me!".  I want to address this.  While many, many people (most) have said things that have hurt me....99.9% of all of those people were coming from a good place.  Sometimes Ted hurts me.  Often my parents hurt me.  I am learning that nobody has the right thing to say because there is no right thing to say.  Losing Max is just terrible.  It just is.  I received a beautiful email last week from an old family friend and I didn't write her back right away, mostly because what she had written was so personal and so meaningful to me that I wanted to be able to sit down and think about my response so that she would know how much I appreciated it.  When I didn't write back, her family told her that she never should have sent the email, that it probably offended me.  They also meant well.  I would say again MOST people mean well.  There are certain comments that hurt me in the beginning that don't hurt me now so much.  The first few months were so raw, I couldn't see straight.  I felt really hurt when people tried to act like nothing had happened and honestly, that still hurts my feelings but I understand better now that most people are just uncomfortable acknowledging our loss.  In the beginning, I hated when people would flippantly ask me, "What's up?" or "How's it going?" or even "How are you?".  I still don't like the first two very much but if someone is asking how I am, and they actually want to know the answer, I appreciate it.  A lot of people said (and say) to me things like, "Don't worry, you can have more babies".  Again, I understand now, they just say this because they don't really get it and what they really mean is that THEY will be more comfortable with us when there is a new baby.  They don't realize that while a new baby would bring happiness back into our lives, we will still feel the exact same grief of having lost Max.  Also, until I have another baby that survives infancy, I won't even necessarily believe that I can have more babies.  If you compared the loss of my Max to the loss of your dog, you hurt my feelings...but, again, I understand better now that you just don't understand.  I am not mad at you.  I would just advise you to not make that (or similar) comparison when you encounter people who have lost someone they love in the future.  Now, there are people who have genuinely hurt me so badly that I really want nothing to do with them ever again.  That is sort of inevitable.  And, when I have written about those instances on my blog, I have dumbed them down to protect the identity of the person I am writing about and/or what happened was so hurtful, I don't even want to get into all of the details.  I am talking about a handful of people.....people that in retrospect have, for the most part, been hurtful to me always...not just after Max passed.  You are most likely not one of them.  I actually think I have confronted almost all of them, so if you haven't been confronted by me, I wouldn't really think twice.  And, I will admit, I am disappointed in some people who I thought would be here for me and haven't been. Again, I am not mad at them either.  They have done the best they could and I forgive them for not having the strength to confront this horror.  It takes a unique kind of person.  I am so lucky that I befriend a little Bianca on the playground at Third Street School, that I instantly bonded with a hilarious girl at work named Marla, and that I received a random phone call from a distant cousin from Mexico City almost ten years ago.  These people and others just happen to have wonderful coping and relating skills.  I am lucky.  So, listen, there is hardly a thing you could say that would really offend me that much.  I have pretty much outlined all of the doozies.  If you have reached out to me with good intent in your heart, I have seen it and it doesn't matter that you have said something that hurt me.  Plenty of the people who have stuck by me have said things that were hurtful.  In many cases, I have just told them that what they said hurt me and then we have moved on.  I am also sure that I have said many things that are hurtful over the past 6 months as well.  I am learning how to do this also and it isn't easy from this side either.  

In finally some good news - Ted's Giants are going to the Superbowl!  He is very excited about it!  Ted deserves to have something to be happy about this year.  Go Giants!

New Couch

I'm getting kind of repetitive.  Pain, anguish, missing, longing, last days, six months.  I am repeating myself.  But my days and hours are full of this repetition.  The same thing over and over again.  Pain, anguish, disbelief, loneliness, disconnection....it just never seems to end.

Yesterday Ted and I went shopping for a new couch.  We currently have an Ikea denim couch that I bought in 2007 for about $500.  That was my budget in 2007.  It is definitely time for a new couch.  Actually, it was time about 10 minutes after the Ikea guys delivered the denim one back in 2007.  I had moved into my apartment in South Carthay very unsure about whether Ted would join me there.  He was living in San Diego at the time and we were driving back and forth every weekend.  He liked to tease me and tell me at times that he wanted to be with me and that he had been looking online for architectural jobs in Los Angeles.  A few days later he would tell me that he wasn't sure, he always wanted to live in Manhattan and so that was still on the table.  In fact, for a few months, I stayed with my mother so that when Ted moved to LA, we could pick out an apartment together.  Finally I decided I needed to move on my life, with or without him.  So, I found this apartment on La Jolla Ave. and moved in.

A few months later Ted moved in (I kind of thought that as soon as I started moving ahead "without him" that he might feel a little less threatened).  When he moved in with me, he also moved in with all of my stuff.  Not one for material stuff ever, I have never really lived as an adult.  My furniture (and wardrobe mostly) is made up a hodgepodge hand-me-downs and nothing really goes together.  If you know Ted, you know he is a little fancier than me and has an eye for details and has really good taste (as evidenced by his choice in wife.....but I digress).  Anyway, he hated the couch immediately....it is small.  It is too low to the ground.  It is SO uncomfortable.  About a month after he moved in we decided that it really stunk and we carried it down our long narrow staircase (no easy feat) and out onto the street and tried to strap it to the top of my CRV (something else I bought in the early days with Ted that he wishes we could get rid of).  Once we got down there and tried hoisting it on the car, we realized this plan was never going to work and so, we just kept the stupid couch.  Getting it back upstairs was as much of a nightmare as bringing it down was.  When we think about this ridiculous hour or more of moving the couch outside to the street and then right back up again now, we laugh.  Ted says it looks like I was about to blow a gasket....I was sweating, bright red, losing patience.  I agree that it was certainly not my finest hour(s).

By now there has been a lot of history on this stupid couch.  Houseguests have slept on it.  Countless hours of television have been watched on it.  Dogs have napped on it.  Cats have peed on it (or rather, one cat has peed on it and I have washed the cushions....so don't get too grossed out former houseguests).  Maxie has "watched" football with his daddy on it and been nursed on it and been cuddled on it and has spit up on it.  There is actually a little patch of Maxie spit up on the back of the couch.  This patch of spit up is what has me irrationally clinging to this atrocious piece of furniture.  Nevermind that I have three freezer sized zip lock bags of Maxie's dirty clothes saved in his room.  I am clinging to the physical evidence that he existed, that he was mine, that I was his mommy, that I was A mommy.

The good news is, we found a really nice sectional from a better place than Ikea.  I am actually excited to sit on the new couch.  I spend HOURS on my couch.  Not only do I watch tv on the couch, I blog from the couch, I work from the couch, I nap on the couch, I eat meals sitting on this couch, I snuggle with my doggies on the couch.  It'll be good to be comfortable while doing all of these things.  For those of you looking for "news", this is about as good as it gets for now.  For everyone else - I bet you didn't think I could write THAT much about a stinky couch.

The Ripple Effect

It has been six months since Max took his last breath.  I actually believe that his little spirit had left his body long before, perhaps even at daycare two days previous.  But, we held on, believing he would be a miracle baby.  Sadly, though he will always be a miracle in our eyes, he did not make the  recovery that we longed for.  We disconnected him from life support just after 5 pm on July 21st.  I kissed him and hugged him tightly and told him how much I loved him.  Teddy picked him up to hug him and wrapped his arms around him.  I will never forget how terrible it felt to get into our car and drive away from the hospital with an empty carseat having just left our baby with strangers.  I will never forget waking up in the middle of the night that night in horror and laying down on his play mat in our room and feeling the breath come and go so deeply from my lungs, my soul feeling crushed by the weight of my sorrow.  I will never forget it because I still feel the same sense of horror every single day at some point or another or often, all day long.  For some reason, I thought I remembered our grief counselor saying that grief would get easier at the six months mark.  In most ways itt has gotten harder.  When I asked her about it, she said, "No, I said six months is usually the worst.  The people around you get compassion fatigue.  Life continues like nothing happened, and you are just as broken as you were when the death occurred".  And, that is with uncomplicated grief (aka - your mother, father, grandparent, age appropriate friend) dies.  With complicated grief it is even worse.  This explains the return of my early feelings of complete despair.  That I survived this week, particularly Monday and Friday, is nothing short of a miracle.  I know I sound dramatic but if you had spent even one minute in my head on either of those days, you would understand. Ted and I have talked a lot about the ripple effect of this loss - at the center is the agony of losing the person we love most...but then comes our being so misunderstood, our loss of connectedness with close friends and family, our difficulties concentrating at work or in life, our worry about the future, our profound disappointment.  Again, though, that stuff is all secondary....at the heart is really Max.  Without Max, life is HARD.  Quite honestly, without Max, life doesn't really feel worth living.....we just keep doing it, hoping that eventually down the road, something will lift the cloud...even a little bit.  We pray it will happen one day, but for now we realize that it has ONLY been six months.

Six Months Later...

I cannot believe it has been six months since the last time I held my baby...and at the same time, it feels SO much longer than that.  Things are really hard these days.  Our therapist tells us that six months is a really difficult period.  People have really moved on, everyone treats you like it's business as usual, and you continue to wake up every single day to the same painful nightmare.  Every day I think to myself, "I just need to make it through this day", but the truth is....then what?  I have to relive the same horror and pain the very next day.  What is the point?  Seriously.  I wake up every morning and the memory that there is no Max anymore hits me.  My chest feels heavy and my eyes fill with tears.  What is the point?  I really don't connect with anyone except Ted.  I don't have my baby.  I feel all alone.  It is like I am living in a different universe than anyone else I know.  They don't speak my language, they don't have my values, they aren't interested in my story.  I remember visiting a girlfriend in Amsterdam in my twenties and hanging out with her friends for days and nobody spoke English to me.  All conversation was in Dutch and I just sat there staring at people telling animated stories and laughing and looking over at me for recognition about the funny stuff going on and I was completely bewildered.  I just sat there breathing and blinking.  At least there were colorful buildings and people to look at.  I am having that experience again but everything is grey.  I can't follow the conversation.  I don't know what I am doing here.  My heart is hollow, the lump in my throat keeps growing, my head is spinning and I fantasize all day long about pushing my nose into the back of his little head and breathing in his baby scent....but I can't.  How did this become my life?

A weekend for Maxie

On Thursday, March 15th (note the date change), we will be celebrating Maxie's life and raising money to plant many more trees in Maxie's Forest.  The event will take place at the famous Comedy Store on the Sunset Strip.  Doors open at 7 and there will be a silent auction and a raffle with lots of great items to bid on to start the evening.  The comedy show will start at 8 pm.  The price of admission is $40 with advanced purchase and $50 at the door.  This does not include the club's two drink minimum (including non-alcoholic beverages).  To purchase tickets ahead of time and ensure a seat at the event, please call the JNF office in Van Nuys at 323-964-1400 and make sure they know that you are reserving your spot for the Night of Comedy event for Maxie's Forest.

My sister-in-law, Beth, is also gearing up Team Maxie again for two runs - a 5k on Saturday the 17th and the LA marathon on Sunday the 18th.  We know she might be the only marathoner again (but encourage others to join her if they can), but hope folks will consider participating in the 5k.  You can even walk a 5k.  This would be a great opportunity to join the Team, and get coworkers, friends and family to sponsor you by making a donation to Maxie's Forest.  If you are interested in participating in one of the runs, please let us know by emailing teddyabby at gmail.  We will have more information soon about how you can be part of the fundraising effort.  You can find out more information about the LA Marathon here: http://www.lamarathon.com/runner-info/register/ and the 5k here: http://www.lamarathon.com/event/la-5k/.  It looks like you can register for the 5k the morning of the run and you can register for the marathon online.  We have nothing to do with the marathon, so rather than coming to us with questions, we encourage you to contact the LA Marathon organizers directly at: 213-542-3000 or email info@lamarathon.com.  


Today marks six months since the last time Ted and I were with our Maxie outside of a hospital.  For the two of us and our families, raising the funds to be able to plant a forest in Maxie's memory has been a small ray of light in our otherwise very dark lives.  Our goal is to raise $100,000 for 20,000 trees to be planted in the Carmel region of Israel, where I used to live, and where over six thousand acres of trees burned in a terrible forest fire in December 2010 - two months after Maxie was born.  This is a place where we will visit with Maxie's siblings (even writing that reminds me that Maxie will never be there with us and it breaks my heart and causes me physical pain) when they are old enough to have bar/bat mitzvahs.  It will be a place that we send our friends and families.  It is a place where we can celebrate Maxie's brief but wonderful life.  


Thank you so much for supporting us, our families, and our Maxie.  We look forward to seeing you the weekend of March 15th - 18th.  If you cannot be at the event or participate in either run, we encourage you to consider supporting a runner.  We will send more information about how to do that when we have the fundraising page for the LA runs set up.