Anger and Pine

I've told a few people this, but I think I'm entering a new phase of grief. I think the shock has worn off. I don't feel so shocked and confused anymore. I just feel angry. Its like smoldering coals way deep down in my soul just sit all day. At times memories or stories or pictures or thoughtless comments fan those coals and they erupt into flames. Those angry flames lick my wounds and burn them. And at the end of an 'episode' what is left is a heap of ash. Worn out and gray and tired.
    I wonder some days if strangers see those flames in my eyes. I know Nolan has felt the heat lately, but like a bucket of cold water he dumps kind, loving, patient words over me. Quenching the flames and keeping me from burning myself from the inside out.
   Last night was hard. I wanted to sleep, but it just wouldn't come. Memories of my baby. Memories of his lips, those lips that are just like Vera's. But some of the memories I notices are starting to fade away. The shape of his head and torso were blurry. As soon as I realized this I frantically opened "The Box". I got out my key, heaved the box onto my bed and unlocked it (I never want someone to accidently open this box). It has everything about Asher in it. Everything about one human being inside a 1 by 1 1/2 foot box. The most precious things in that box are an album my mom made for me with many pictures of his birth, foot-prints and hand-prints taken by Anne - the nurse - and pieces of his hair. These are the only things I have left of my son. There are many other things too; every single card we received, the outfit I was wearing when my water broke, the newspapers with his obituary in them; every bill from the hospital and funeral home; the hat my mom and mother-in-law put on him after they washed him - it still has his smell on it.
   I carefully unwrapped the album from its green string and yellow tissue paper. I was already sobbing and just wept over his little body all over again. I talked to him and whispered his name. I pulled out his hat from the hospital and held it to my nose and took a deep breath. Taking in his sent once again; newness and a little bit like Nolan after a hard days work in the sun. I shutter at the thought of never smelling that smell again. I got out the bits of his hair and touch it, marveling again at its color (black for now that would have turned brown, exactly like mine) and softness. I went back to the album and laid down on the bed and just put my hand over my favorite picture of him in and sobbed and sobbed and let the fire burn itself out.
   And then, ceremonially, I placed everything back inside that box exactly as I had taken it out. I re-wrapped the album, exactly the same way I had each time before and laid it to rest - again - inside that pine box.

Day Dreaming

This last week has been full of "what-would-have-been's".  I went to see my sister-in-law the weekend before last and it occurred to me on the way home how very different the journey would have been had I been toting around a 3 month old. I may not have made the 5 hour trip with just myself and the two kids. Then while at the grocery on Monday I put Vera in the front basket seat of the cart and realized that I would no longer have put her there because Asher would have been in his car-seat clipped to the cart. Or I thought, I'd have my Moby wrap on.... and his tiny butt would be pouched to the front of me as I whizzed Vera up and down the isles. All the old people would want to stop me and touch him and ask me all about him. My Aldi family (which is what I call the cashiers at Aldi because I've know all of them for about 7 years) would stop checking people and hold him for a few minutes and hold him up for the rest of the line to see. Everyone is always patient at Aldi, so the customers would just laugh and say how cute he was.
     And two days ago Vera managed to pull a tiny play-pin/tent thing intended for infants out and open it. She said, "Mommy, my baby die..... I have dis???" Pointing at the now open contraption. I just nodded and forced a smile. She asks me every so often "Why my baby die? My baby sick?" So I patiently explain once again about Asher's cord. But Asher would have been in that tent thing this summer.
I sometime sit and day dream about holding him on my chest. One hand cupping his little bottom, and the other stroking his back or hair. I sit with my hands in the shape of a newborn and imagine what it would have been like. Me, exhausted, but happy. His new baby smell. I already knew him. I know that had he lived he would have been hard to keep up with. Intelligent. Ornery and high spirited. But not so headstrong as Vera. Full of energy, with big eyes that would have looked at me with complete trust and love. And Vera would have been a perfect big sister. She wants to help anytime I hold a baby. She doesn't act jealous, just excited.
I watched a friend of mines grandson this last Sunday. I held him while he fought sleep then finally succumbed to exhaustion and slept in my arms. It was wonderful. I caught a glimpse of what it would have been like to have two.
If I imagine hard enough I can almost smell his sweet breast-fed breath, hear his tiny whimpers in the moments just before he sleeps. I can almost feel the fuzzy softness of the black-as-coal hair on his head. In my imagination his eyes are light hazel brown, the way Nolan's get sometimes. But I don't really know what color his eyes are. That fact alone, I don't know what color my son's eyes are, weighs on me, drags me down beneath icy water and takes my breath. I have never seen my son's eyes.

Afraid of Blessings

So many things have been going on these last weeks. Small things, big things...... just lots of things. Monday I paid some long overdue bills and it was such a huge relief to get that done. I love the satisfaction that no one can hold an unpaid bill over my head. And on Monday I woke up to 2 1/2 feet of water in my basement. It rained all day Sunday melting all the snow and causing flooding. My washer and dryer are down there... dryer still works, but the washer died. Sooo.. I guess we're getting a "new" (it wont be truly brand new, just new to us) washing machine.  Tuesday I made a trip to see my midwives, for funsies, because a midwife is more than a person to deliver your baby. Then I did taxes for a few people and came home mentally exhausted. Wednesday I did more taxes and came home was able to contact some family that never knew I was pregnant, let alone knew about Asher. Thursday I did more taxes..... its safe to say my brain is fried. And they were EASY taxes. Still...... mush.

Anyway.. When I came home a wonderful friend of mine called. She says she feels that God has exciting blessings in Nolan and I's future. She is the second person in the last 2 weeks to tell me that. I know I should be happy, but truthfully I'm scared. At first I was just nervous, excited nervous. But the more I thought about it, the more afraid I became. I can't figure out why. Maybe its the thought of moving to a new season of life. I know I cant stay in this season of greif, but I also don't want to leave. I also can't stand the thought of people saying, "See? God is still blessing you. Just because Asher died, doesn't mean God won't provide. See? God took Asher so he could bless you in other ways." I may go to jail for battery if anyone says that to me. (And don't think people don't say insensitive things like that.) But, really, I'm just worried. Usually after God blesses you significantly, Satan is right behind him to do all he can to tear you down again. Maybe I'd just rather remain in neutral. Isn't that such a terrible attitude? Satan's got me on the run apparently. I'll have to talk with Christ about this tonight. Just why would He bless us with Asher, only to let death take him. If thats what blessings mean, I can't say as I want them.

Also, Nolan and I already decided on boy/girl names for our next baby. And no I'm not telling. I'm not even pregnant and we're on this train again. Sigh... I told Nolan today that I won't be buying anything for the next baby we have until he/she is born. Putting Asher's things away was..... well...... sometimes I wish it was back in my room. I don't see why I ever have to let my heart heal. I don't see why it just can't go on bleeding forever. I don't see why its not acceptable to curl into the fetal position and stay there. Gosh, I don't blame anyone for not reading this, I'll bet its hard to follow... all my thoughts just - PLOP - on the page.

Today Nolan and I had a good fight. A good fight is where both sides compromise in the end. But it still exhausts me, fighting is exhausting. I hate it. We've got to find a better way to reach a compromise. I need to be better about trusting his ideas and ways of doing things. I'm working on it. Its so hard to do things someone else's way when you KNOW that your way will work. I need to respect and support him more. I need to let go of the control. Pray for me. Pray for him. He is human also, of course, but this is my blog, lol.

I wonder how many of you will still like me when you know how unpleasant I can be. And how I can be unpleasant for a very extended period of time.

I miss my son today. I've missed him everyday. Especially today the ache is strong.

I'm Pretty Sure I'm 40.

It dawned on me today that I am only 22. I feel at least 40, maybe older. I am only 22. How can it be that I'm only 22? I'm 22 and I have a 3 year old and a dead baby. Other 22 year olds are traveling the world. They are staying up late painting their toes. They are riding on the back of their boyfriend's motorcycle. I just finished the dishes and baked oatmeal for breakfast so I can sleep in for 15mins in the morning. I'm pretty sure I'm not 22. I'm pretty sure I'm 40.

A Vase Attachment

Some days, like today, I still feel pregnant. I can't understand why. My body and brain both tell me I'm not but I find myself still preparing to give birth emotionally. It's so strange, but it's true. I look up music to calm me during labor. I laugh and cry as I read birth stories from other mamas thinking how wonderful my birth will be; only to remember I'm not pregnant. It's as if my heart can't stop preparing for a baby to care for. I constantly feel as though I've left something important behind. I haven't really; Asher's let us behind.
I Haven't been out to his grave since the funeral. I want to go....... But I keep finding excuses not to; I'll cry too much/ the snow's too deep/ it's too muddy/ I have Vera with me and I want to go alone but I don't want anyone to know I'm out here by myself so I can't drop her off because I'll have to give a reason about why/where I'm going....... the list could go on forever.  I wonder if maybe I'm just scared. Scared I'll feel too much. Scared I won't feel enough. Scared it will all turn out to be real. A real grave with Asher Benjamin Ritchie - November 12th engraved onto it.
Nolan picked one out with a vase attachment so I could bring flowers and leave them. The day they assigned Asher a burial spot we were looking around at the neighboring Babyland graves and my mom spotted one that was over 40 years old. Someone was still putting flowers on that grave. I will, every year until the day I die, put flowers on Asher's grave. Maybe one day 60 years from now some other mom will see some flowers on an old infant grave and know that she is not alone.

Anniversary of Discovery

Sunday (the 20th) is my husband's birthday. It is also the 1 year anniversary of the day I told him I was pregnant with Asher. He had been ready to have another baby for at least a year, maybe more. I'm quite sure he'd keep me pregnant until we had a brood to rival the Duggers if I'd agree to it. I was 99% sure I was pregnant but went to Walmart and picked up a pregnancy test for me and a birthday card for Nolan on the 19th. I waited until he went to work then peed on that little stick. PREGNANT! So I wrote in his birthday card Happy Birthday! from Samantha, Vera, and Julian Arminius (A boys name Nolan and I both kinda liked at the time) (Also how interesting that I wrote a boys name. I always had 'boy feelings' that whole pregnancy). I gave it to him the next morning when he came home from work. He opened it, read it, and then said, with a kind of hysterical look on his face, "What does this mean? Are you sure?!" I just nodded and held out the pregnancy test. He laughed and swooped forward to hug and kiss me. Oh, I'm crying thinking about that day. How beautiful, how glorious, how happy. So happy.
     I really love that pregnancy. It was so healing after the upheaval of Vera's pregnancy. There was never a day I wasn't glad to be pregnant. Never I day I wasn't excited. Never a time I wondered if I was ready or capable. I spent so much time loving him before I ever even knew he was a him. And I spent ever so much more time enthralled by the thought of a baby boy. My pregnancy was easy. By the end of  I was even excited to give birth. I was confident that everything would be perfect.
    I'm just so utterly shocked how un-perfect it all turned out to be. I'm just stunned at how this could happen. I'm the sort of person who is generally prepared for most circumstances....... but this, this was like walking from a dark house out into the bright sunlight where you can't see, but can feel the warmth and being suddenly punched in the face. There is nothing you can do except fall to the ground and wait for the pain to subside so you can try to get up again. Trying to stagger into an upright position seems impossible some days. Nolan says I'm wallowing. He seems angry some days that I'm not normal. How am I supposed to be normal? I won't ever go back to the old normal because I piece of me is in that grave with my Asher. I hope Nolan will understand one day.
   I don't give him enough credit, though. He's been the one holding my head above the water for so long now. He's who I run to when I just need to cry with no questions asked. He's the rock that has always kept me grounded. He lets me babble on but doesn't allow me to seep into despair. And I know he's ready for another baby.
    I keep thinking that being pregnant again would be nice, and I don't think God will take another baby from my arms, but He might. But he might not. And - in the recent words of a friend - if I live in the past, I may miss out on someone/thing amazing and special in the future.
Psalms 30:5 "Weeping may endure for a night, but JOY cometh in the morning." How sad it would be to miss out on that joy, because I refused to open my eyes for fear.

Song #9 Starry Night by Chris August

The last few days have been such a blessing. I can honestly say I have never felt as much joy in my soul as I have yesterday and today; especially yesterday morning. I've been praying so hard lately that God would show me joy again. His abiding joy. A joy that transcends circumstance. Thursday had been a very ugly day. Not for any particular reason, just many small things piled up until I thought I would burst; the sun wasn't out, Vera cried when my dad picked her up before I went to work, I worked 10 hours, I missed Nolan all day and before he went to work, we had a row... ect, ect. I got down on my knees that night and poured my heart out to God. The next morning dawned bright and sunny. Nolan and I had a wonderful morning together before I had to get Vera up and out the door. On my way to work I put on some praise and worship music from the radio and the sun was just above the horizon and glinting off the crystalline snow-covered fields. Breathtaking. I could hear God say "This sunrise is just for you, beloved. Joy cometh in the morning." I knew my prayers had been heard. That gift of a sunrise on Friday morning was so overwhelming. I made it to my dad's house and took Vera inside. She didn't cry once and was off and playing before I even got out the door. I got back into my car and the song Starry Night came on the radio.

When they lyrics:

I''m giving my life to the only One who makes the moon reflect the sun

On that starry night, He changed my life. I'm giving it all to the only Son who gave me hope when I had none. So let the praises ring, Ohhhh Let the Praises Ring

I burst into tears. I knew that the God that made the sun and the moon loves me. I cried out, thanking Him for the supernatural hope, peace and joy that could only come from Christ. He sent the sun to rise in the wintery sky just for me that morning. I know some people won't understand this. But I can't imagine going through this without God. So daily, I am giving my life over to God. I'm giving back the control, because I can't make the sun rise, nor can I have joy without Jesus.

Finish the day I worked, but the time seemed short. And after work I went grocery shopping, picked up Vera from my dads and went home. When I got home there was a box from ProFlowers with my name on it. Nolan had ordered flowers for me; a dozen red roses and chocolates with a note that read "Darling, I love you. -Nolan". It was the icing on a cake filled day. God has been so faithful,... so real.

Starry Night - Chris August