Happy Fathers Day...

We unveiled Hunters stone on Fathers Day.  It's so perfect.  Even Hunter looks proud of it.

Fathers Day was hard.  We had a picnic with Hunter and Mathew opened his gift and card from the boys when we were there.  

I feel like a terrible parent.  A failed parent.  These days are incredibly hard.  Some days it is hard to breathe. Of all the pain and hurt we have been through I just want to go back and spend more time with him.  I wish I could hold him and kiss him. To mother him.  

I still don't understand why he had to be taken.  Why the universe has been so cruel to us.  

During the week there was an article in the newspaper about a three week old baby girl whose parents slit her throat.  How come can people be so disgusting and heartless and break all the rules of parenthood have their baby still here?  Why couldn't their baby be taken?  They didn't want her anyway...I feel sick to say that but it's how I feel.

I am struggling.  There are so many days  I sit on the floor, looking at Hunters pictures and cry.  Sometimes I want to scream, to hurt someone else as much as I am hurting.  But I don't.  It won't bring him back so I keep it inside.

I feel so lonely inside.  

My Boy,

I love you and I miss you.  Each day that goes I miss you more.  How I am I going to make through this life without seeing you again?  I wish I took more pictures.  

Thank you for coming to see me in my dreams.  I am happy you are safe an being looked after.  I only wish I had met your great nana so that I could know she'd take the best care of you.  Mummy will look after you again one day.  Better next time.  

You would be such a big now, I can imagine you sitting in the high chair eating everything in sight.  You'd be sleeping in your cot now, instead of the basinette and in a car seat rather than the capsule.  A real little boy.  You would sit in the baby bouncer outside in the sunshine, smiling and gurgling.  

I love you so much.  We are still a family of four.  

Please help Mummy to be happy again.

Love you xxx M xxx

Pain

All  day long I wear a mask.  When I smile at you, it's often my mask smiling at you.  When I say I'm good, it's my mask talking.

I am in pain.  I don't know how to feel that pain but it is always there.  Deep inside my being.  In my heart, my throat, the pit of stomach.  The pain is my arms that held you, in my lips that kissed you, my eyes that looked lovingly at you.  It is everywhere.  

I hate that people have moved on.  I hate that people don't ask about Hunter.  I hate that people no longer want to see his photos.  I hate that people talk about him in past tense.  All these things cause me more pain.

The sympathetic looks.   The idle conversation I have to smile at and pretend to enjoy.  I know what people are thinking, I can see it.  I know that when I'm gone people will talk about me.  They will say "She's the one I was telling you about.  The one whose baby died."  Some conversations would probably be bordering on excited gossip.  Some people take joy in the fact that they know me, the Mum of Hunter.  When someone hears about us and our story they can say "I know her."  

The people that do this, they do not know me.  I know the type of person that speaks of me this way.  I can see it like it's written on their foreheads in a thick black vivid. It's not everyone.  Just some.

Something that hurts just as much is the people who avoid the topic all together.  Do they think we want to forget?  I don't want to forget, not for one tiny second.  If I could I would do it all again.  I would be pregnant, I would go through that 49 hour labour, I would hold you as you died in my arms.  I would do it all again just in the hope to get an extra second with you.  One more breath.

For now I am going to be a narcissist.  I am going to be a narcissist because it is all about me.  I am going to stop worrying about what my words and feelings might do to others.  This is mine, I am going to own it.

Dear Hunter,

I love you so much my baby.  We talk about you always.  We talk about you so much that your big brother can point at your pictures and say 'Hunter'.  He knows you are here too.

You've been flying high for nearly three months now.  Its been a lifetime to me but I wish it was just yesterday.  If it was yesterday I would have held you yesterday, kissed you yesterday.  Seen you just yesterday.

I miss you.

Mummy xxx

“…Though I experienced death, I also experienced life…not after the darkness, as we might suppose, but in the darkness. I did not go through pain and come out the other side; instead, I lived in it and found within that pain the grace to survive and eventually grow. I did not get over the loss of my loved ones; rather, I absorbed the loss into my life, like soil receives decaying matter, until it became a part of who I am. Sorrow took up permanent residence in my soul and enlarged it.”–Jerry Sittser

I am two people now: one mourns and the other takes the steps that make up life.


These are from another blog I am reading.  Perfectly describes me.

I want to hold your hand again Hunter.  Such a tiny thing to ask for but one I have to wait so long for.

I visited you twice today.  Daddy and I have visited you nearly every day and it's never rained, or even spitted with rain.  We can leave the house in the most horrible weather but when we get to you the sun always shines.  You always shine.  Every single time.  That's incredible given it's been through the middle of winter.  I know you are doing it and I know you are with me.

You are my sunshine : )

I miss you so much Hunter.

I feel like I am waiting for your death to be over and for you to come back.  I want it to be over, you can come back to us now.  We have learnt our lessons and it's time to come back.

If only death worked that way.

Today I am making a memory album for you.  It's going to be really nice and like everything that is for you I am putting a lot of thought and effort into it.  It's kind of like a scrap book.  But you already know this because you are always watching me.

We (Mummy and Daddy) still feel like everything is wrong, that nothing is going right and that we are such different people now.  It's so hard to get used to.

We are still finding that some friends are true and others aren't.  This is a big thing for me, I am holding onto it maybe because I've been hurt by some peoples lack of caring.  I suppose that stuff doesn't matter, and it may be something else that is bothering me and I just haven't figured out what that is yet.  I find that happens a lot.  

I am looking for a job.  I ideally want something that helps people.  A job where I can share my experiences to help people...I don't think I'm going to find that job for a while.  One day I will but maybe now isn't the right time.

I wonder what you'd look like now.  You'd definitely be chubby.  You were such a hungry wee thing.  Maybe you'd be bald!  Or have the funny 'old man balding' that your Dad and Cooper both had.  No hair on top but lots on the sides and back.

You would probably be rolling or close to it.  I would prop you over a tri-pillow in front of a mirror so you could coo and chatter to yourself in the mirror.  And if you're anything like your brother, I think you are, you'd be kicking your arms and legs to music, getting excited and laughing.  

Cooper is getting so smart.  It's bitter sweet.  I would love to see you at his age in a years time.

Coopers recent tricks are feeding himself with a spoon or stabbing food with a fork.  He points to things now and calls everything a dog.  He hears a dog barking and points in the direction saying 'dog dog' before he can even see it.  He's a smarty pants.  He also rides his little trike around the place saying brmm brmm brmm.  

I hope you are watching him closely.  He's full of mischief.  Enough for both of you.

I had better go now baby.  I need to fold the washing and pick up al the toys.  I've got you with me all the time.  On my mind, in my heart and on my necklace.

I love you millions.  More every day.

xxx Mumma xxx

72 Days Gone

It's been 72 days since you left us.  We think about you everyday, talk about you everyday and wish like hell that we will wake up from this terrible nightmare, everyday.

It's not just a nightmare though.  There are so many things that remind me this is real.  We visit your tiny grave nearly everyday.  I open the curtains in your room each morning. In your room it feels the way I feel - empty, quiet and cold.  

We have you everywhere though.  In Coopers room, he sleeps with one of your blankets and has one of your teddy's.  In our room, lots of places in the lounge, the kitchen, around my neck, on Daddy's arm.  It's not enough though.

Yesterday I was sitting on the doorstep watching Cooper go up and down his slide.  It was a beautiful sunny and warm day.  I felt like I should be holding you, cuddling and feeding you while watching Cooper running and playing.  That's how yesterday should have been if things were right.

Things should have been so different for you.  I don't believe that you were meant to leave us so soon.  It was tragedy and I am so so sorry it happened to you.  Took your life away.  

I hope you are warm, happy and being fed well.  Daddy and I don't want you to be scared, we will be with you again one day.  But until then you need to be a big brave boy and you need to look after us, especially Cooper.  

Someone said over the weekend that our babies aren't perfect.  I think she was wrong.  You are perfect.  Maybe too perfect to be here.  Perfect.

Daddy and I have made a goal.  We are going to run a marathon for you.  When I'm running I think of you and it keeps me going.  I run, I cry.  

I long to see you.  

If I had one wish, I'd wish for you.

I love you Hunter Gray.  Today and always.

Love Mummy.

Returning to Starship

Yesterday we went back to Starship.  Back to PICU.  We stood outside the room that took from Hunter from us.

Going back there was different to what I had tried to imagine.  When I was there with Hunter I remember it as quiet, a place with only a couple of children, empty hallways and the same night and day.  Yesterday it was a loud, busy, fast paced place packed with sick children.  In the hallways there is machines and trolleys outside every room and Doctors and Nurses seemed to be rushing around everywhere. I saw none of this when we were there.  All I saw was Hunter and Hunter's doctors.

I cried in buckets.  Seeing Hunters Doctor I broke down, it brought it all back.  He was so genuine, so caring and helpful.  He tried his best with Hunter.  It meant a lot to me to have him remember Hunter.

Starship has seen just two cases of HSV that has done what it did to Hunter.  One of those cases was Hunter.  

Waitakere Hospital had never seen it.  And probably never will again.  

Hunter and the other little boy or girl are being written about in a medical journal.  

Waitakere Hospital has since been educated by Starship on HSV in babies.

I don't think I am going to get my answers as with this type illness the doctors can only make assumptions.  There is a margin of error when testing for viruses so if something doesn't add up in the tests they just have to assume that those tests have provided false results.  It will take me a long time to accept this.

Dear Hunter,

I am so sorry.  I don't know if I will be able to find out why.  It's all so unfair and doesn't seem to make sense.  

The days and nights seem to be getting longer and harder.  

Tomorrow you are two months old!  I wish so badly I could have spent that time with you, that I could see you now.  

Love you forever Hunter Christopher Gray.

xxx Mummy xxx

  

Butterflies

Butterflies

Today I can feel myself loosing it.  I've been OK the last couple of days.  I spent an hour or so sitting by your grave the other day.  I cried and cried as I talked to you but it felt good.  I felt close to you.

You have a blue butterfly flying around your spot.  It's solar powered and very cool.

Cooper hasn't been sleeping very well, I think he may be getting my cold.  I'm worrying myself sick.

I hope you weren't in pain.  This is something I've been thinking about today and it makes me so sad.  I am scared for you Hunter. I hope you weren't hurting.  

Today I can feel my big empty space where you used to live. It hurts and I can't stop it.

I don't even know what to say to you, I just want you here.  Why did we have to loose you?  We loved you so much and so many hopes and dreams for our family.  Why couldn't a family who didn't love their baby so much loose theirs?  I don't understand.   I want to go back and change something, be a better person or do something different so that I can have you back.  My whole word is upside down without you.

You will be 8 weeks old tomorrow.  You are starting to hold your head up well, sleeping more at night and focusing those big dark eyes on Mummy and Daddy.  

Sleep well my boy.  I love you xx