Tuesday, April 20, 2010

One year

My precious baby boy,

It is hard to believe that it has been one year since you left us to go to heaven. We miss you so. Whenever your brothers are playing nicely together, it is a bittersweet moment for me. I can't help but wish you were there with them. But I know you are watching over them from heaven.

We had company over on Sunday. We didn't focus on it being your angel day as Alex called it...but we all knew what day it was. After everyone left I went to the store and bought some helium balloons. We all wrote notes to you and tied them to the balloons. We walked down to the park and let the balloons go. Daddy took pictures..in one of them it looks like there is a white angel in it...none of our balloons were white. When we were walking home Alex grabbed my hand and said "momma that was nice, I bet Ben will like to read our notes".

Mommy loves you.

Friday, December 18, 2009

8 months

Hey little guy,

Today marks the 8 month anniversary since you went to live in heaven. Christmas is right around the corner. We decorated the house a few weeks ago for Christmas and your brothers insisted on putting up a stocking for you and told me we need to buy you a present too.

I said something to Tony this morning about "your brother" and he said "mom, which brother, I have three of them". I am glad that they haven't forgotten about the little brother they never got to know.

Great Grandma Omdoll passed away a week ago today, so you have one more Grandma up there to love you and take care of you!

Mommy loves you

Thursday, October 15, 2009

October 15, 2009

I will light my candle tonight for my beautiful son Benjamin who was born sleeping on April 18, 2009. I believe Benjamin is now a guardian angel for his big brothers who loved him so much. They still miss him and talk about the little brother who lives in heaven. Last week we had some very strong winds. I feel asleep feeling very disturbed by all of the noise from it, and the first dream I had was that a tree fell on our house and killed Alex, my 5 year old! I woke up from the dream crying and immediately went to check on him..he was safe in his bed. The next morning I was up before dawn (normal in Northern Illinois on school days LOL). I went in the living room and looked outside..all I saw was tree! There were tree branches EVERYWHERE! I ran to the front door and realized that our entire yard was covered in tree. I walked toward my Alex's room, just like in my dream..I was shaking by the time I turned the knob. Instead of the scene of destruction I saw like in my dream, he was sleeping peacefully. I noticed a shadow on his window, and opened the curtains. A 200 year old oak tree greeted me. It had fallen at some time during the night, up against the house and only broke one pane of the double paned glass on Alex's window!! If the tree had fallen at a different angle, my nightmare may have come true. Both of my kids rooms (the two older boys share a room) are on the wall where the tree fell. It could have easily been a much worse outcome. I told the boys that we were very lucky and must have a guardian angel...Tony (10 year old) and Alex both said Of course we have a guardian angel, it's Ben. Now how can I argue with that? :)In a few days it will be the six month mark since we lost our darling baby. Has this grief gotten better? No, not really. But, I am learning to live with the grief and without the baby we dreamed of. We have decided that we WILL try one more time for a baby. I know that every minute will be terrifying, but like my husband has told me, nothing is guaranteed, and that is why every moment we have with our kids is precious.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

4 months

Dear Benjamin,

This 4 month anniversary is turning out to be much harder than the others. We are approaching the day you should have been born (8/20/09) and your actual due date (9/10/09) too. There are alot of people I know having babies right now and it hurts alot just to hear about it. I can't help but think about what might have been...

One of the ladies on my support group emailed this and I thought it was so fitting, it describes pretty much exactly how I feel every day.

Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.

Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.

Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.

Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.

Normal is having the TV on the minute I walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening.

Normal is staring at every baby who looks like he is my baby's age. And then thinking of the age he would be now and not being able to imagine it.Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.

Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.

Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday,commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my"normal".

Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and his birthday and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really.

Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special my baby loved. Thinking how he would love it, but how he is not here to enjoy it.

Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.

Normal is making sure that others remember him.

Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives,but I continue to grieve my loss forever.

Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.

Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss,unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare.Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.

Normal is taking pills, and trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.

Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.

Normalis disliking jokes about death or funerals, bodies being referred to ascadavers, when you know they were once someone's loved one.

Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child.

Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.

Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.

Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food.

Normalis wondering this time whether you are going to say you have three children or two, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have two children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.

Normal is avoiding McDonald's and Burger King playgrounds because of small,happy children that break your heart when you see them.

Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours .

Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.

Andlast of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal"for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are"normal".

Mommy loves you.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

3 months

My little Benjamin,

You have been gone now for 3 months. Sometimes it feels like an eternity, and sometimes I can still imagine you are kicking me, letting me know you are there.

Life has changed so much since we lost you. Your brothers speak of you often. They attended a bereavement camp for children who have lost family members. I think it really helped them to know that they are not the only ones who miss someone, and it's ok to cry. They had a lovely memorial service for you and all of the other missing family members. Daddy and I cried so hard.

Your brothers have been amazing trying to help me through my grief. I am so proud of them. Cris recognizes when I am feeling sad and is always there to give me a hug. Tony has been a little more reserved which is normal for him, but he's always right there when I need some support. Alex seems so old sometimes at his 5 years of age, if he sees me crying he automatically assumes it is "because of Ben" and gives me a hug.

These are some things your brothers have written to or about you:

From Cris (11 years old)

Dear BJ

What is heaven like? Is it shiny?!? I hope we'll see each other some day, I'll bring a soccer ball. Is heaven like earth? But on clouds and no bad people? Tell Grandma Marcie I said Hi! Ok here's a little phrase I heard from a man named Nick Vujicic: don't give up on God and God will not give up on you!!

PS: Tell God I said hi!

Your Brother Cris

From Alex (5 years old) a song he made at bereavement camp sung to the tune of You are My Sunshine

Peek a boo Benjamin I love you
Your older brother Alex
Wishing to ride bikes with you
Play on swings in the park and let you win all the board games
I would feed you and rock you
but never change a diaper-mom can do that
When you fall I'll give you a band-aid cause I'll love you forever.

We miss you and love you


Friday, June 12, 2009


Dear Benjamin,
I went and got this tattoo on Tuesday. I almost cried not from the physical pain, but from the emotional pain of not having you with me. It seems so unfair that instead of holding my baby, I get a tattoo in his memory.
Mommy loves you.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009


Dear Benjamin,

I am sitting here waiting for the infant loss/bereavement group to start. It's supposed to be a group to help mothers and fathers deal with losing their babies. I almost had to laugh at the cruelty of it, when I discovered it is in the Labor and Delivery section of a local hospital. I used to work at this particular hospital, I know they have other conference rooms available in other areas of the hospital.

I wish they would come soon, I arrived too early and now finding myself wanting to run for the nearest exit. What if they criticize me for having three children already, but suffering so much over losing you?

I love you my angel.