It’s The Little Things

I don’t know what it is.

I can only chalk it up to be that the numbing state I

was in is now gone.  It seemed, in the beginning, that I was strong and

knew that I could get through each day as hard as they would be.  I felt that Torry was

crying more often then me and that felt sort of weird.  I felt that I should have been the one who was

more of a wreck then him.  It was a role reversal of sorts I think.  I was crying about once a day.  But then

I would go a day or so without doing it and I would think “Ok, my body is starting to heal”.

Well, not really. My everyday crying

 started lumping themselves up into one day  every few days and now I have a HUGE cry fest that lasts much

longer.  Gut-wrenching big globs of tears kind of crying.  I soak the top of the stuffed elephant with my tears

 and snot and go through endless amounts of tissues.

 (I now keep a box on the night stand next to the rocker in Brecken’s room)

Now I feel like I’ve transitioned into

an even more different stage of crying.  I feel like every little thing is setting me

off.  TV shows, pictures, songs, memories etc.  The other day I watched a three minute video

 of an embryo progressing through the stages of growth in the womb.  I cried watching it

because I felt like I was watching Brecken’s life before I gave birth. It was the only ‘normal’ life he had.  That hit me

hard because I’ve been struggling with the fact that his life was far better while inside of me and that hurts so

incredibly much that he didn’t get to really know his life on the outside.  I feel bad that this all had to happen to him.

I feel terrible for deciding that ending his life young was what was best for his overall being.  Just writing this

post is making my eyes sting

Yesterday, I had something hit me harder than most trivial little triggers

that I have been encountering.  I was browsing through the Children’s Hospital of Wisconsin’s

Facebook page and came across a photo they posted of their Flight For Life team and the helicopter on the

roof of the hospital.  The stretcher in the picture is exactly what Brecken was transported in.  Most

likely that was the helicopter he rode in.  I never got to see the helicopter or his take off from the hospital.

Seeing that photo was like coming across a picture of Brecken I’ve never seen.  It instantly flooded my memories

of the night he was born and when I saw him in the NICU for the first time and when they wheeled Brecken

into my postpartum room on that exact stretcher, for one last look before he was flown away.  My god

that was a terrible moment for me.  My baby boy was leaving me on his first night of life.  It was

horrifying knowing something was wrong with him, but not knowing what it was and how bad

it was going to be.  I just kept thinking the worst was him having some sort of disability or impairment.

I sort of half laugh at myself now, as I write this, about that original thought.  What I would give

for him to have a disability or an impairment as opposed to permanent brain damage that left

him in pretty much a vegetative state.

Gosh, I miss him sooooooooo much.

On a little side note,

I have entered Brecken’s story into a contest on Facebook.

The question that all entrants must answer is when it became real for us

that we were parents.  I submitted my entry and voting has began.  Our story

is currently sitting in first place!!  But there’s still a couple of weeks of voting to go.

You can vote once each day until it ends (4/19)  I’m not sure if you have to ‘Like’ the page first,

but either way, it’s really simple.  Just follow the link provided, scroll down to the end of my story

and click on VOTE.  ‘Liking’ his picture won’t get us votes.

Thank you so much in advance!  Don’t forget to share the link with your friends!

Here’s the link:

http://bit.ly/10dSpMl

Here’s the picture from the Children’s Hospital of Wisconsin’s Fan Page

of the helicopter Brecken flew in.