Words - Even Incoherent Ones - Hurt

Peanut -

Over the last day or so, Momma became the target of one very troubled individual's rants and rage.  And, rather than direct his anger to me directly, this person has chosen to direct it to me via very hurtful, inappropriate comments about you...my Peanut, my Angel...and the tragic circumstances around your death.

Over the last 5 months, Momma has found solace, peace and support in this public forum.  Sharing my thoughts, tears, fears, smiles and grief has been so very therapeutic.  And, the readers of this blog (and the related posts on Facebook) have been so lovely, so comforting.  My community of support.

But now, regardless of how unstable the individual or incoherent the words, the power of this hurt can't be removed.  It feels as if the purity of my grief has been tainted, and I'm not sure how to process that hurt.

I am taking a pause this evening to decide...what do I do?  The rage from this person originated on FB because I declined a very vulgar "friend request" from someone I don't even know.  But, it has now spread and is breathing a life of its own.  Directly opposed to everything this blog is about.

Peanut, I love you so very much.  Too much to allow this stranger to drop his poison into our well.  So, I sign off for now with a new brand of pain in my heart.  Oh....my Peanut.  I love you, I love you, I love you - to the mooooon and back.

- Momma

If You Were Here...

Peanut -

If you were still here with us, I imagine you would be getting the biggest kick out of Momma's growing tummy.  My mind has this constant image of you giving my baby bump loads and loads of your famous Peanut forehead bumps, followed by a delighted Peanut laugh.

If you were here, we would be showing you all the ultrasound pictures and explaining that you are about to be given the biggest responsibility a little boy can be given...you are about to be a big brother!  You would listen to us earnestly, eyes wide, fully understanding.  You would be up for this task.

If you were here, we would be discussing what books to read to your new sibling.  What to buy for the nursery.  What exciting things were could plan to do together as our new little family, especially during Momma's maternity leave.

If you were still here, I would also be getting ready to plan your 2nd birthday party.

But, you are not here with us, physically.  You are still here, though.  And, I know you're going to be the best Angel Brother ever.  I know you're already helping out with the baby, acting as a special Guardian Angel.  I know you're watching over Momma and Dadda.  And I know you are so excited about this new addition to our family.  An addition we had never planned on, but are now so incredibly thankful to have in our future.

If you were here...my heart might feel complete.

I love and miss you, sweet Peanut.  To the moon and back.
- Momma

Stick Figure Families

Peanut -

Every Monday-Thursday morning Momma makes the hour-long commute into work, surrounded by thousands of other drivers.  Many are headed to work, like me.  Others are either driving to drop kids off at school/daycare, or are driving themselves to school.  And others just seem to be taking a morning drive, not entirely sure why all these other cars are on the road at 7:00 am!  Given the start and stop pattern of the traffic, I have a lot of time to observe the other cars and drivers...probably too much time.

So many of the cars seem to have the same series of stickers covering their back windows.  I'm not sure if it is a St. Louis thing, or if it's something I've only started paying attention to since we lost you, Peanut, but I feel like I'm surrounded by these stickers and cars all the time.  What are they, you ask?  Family stick figure window decals.  Here's a sample:

And, I'm never around cars that have a mom, dad, 2.5 kids plus a dog and car.  I'm always surrounded by the family with 13 children, and a herd of family pets.  It feels like they're mocking me.  "Look how many kids we successfully had - AND, they're all still alive.  And you, you 39-year old mom who put her career before her heart and family, you thought you could have your one perfect child and be safe and happy.  WRONG.  And now, well, good luck with your plan to have more kids."

I hate that this is my internal voice track.  But I can't deny it, those stickers make me cry every single morning.  Why can't I enjoy the love put into those stickers?  I mean, some parent lovingly thought through the customization, placed the special order, and carefully applied it to their back window.  They didn't put it out there to taunt me or our family.

Maybe it just feels that way because all I wanted was to be a mom.  Your mom, Peanut.  And now, I just want to feel the joy of being a Momma again.  To hold my child, feel more hugs, read books, sing songs and laugh.

So, tomorrow when I see the stickers I will try to smile and think about the love that went into creating that sticker.  I will think about another parent who read "Guess How Much I Love You" to their little boy or girl every night.  Who sent their children to sleep with the same goodnight wish I send to you every night:  I love you...to the moon and back!

- Momma

Damn You, Celine Dion. Damn You!!!

Peanut -

First things first.  Momma does not like Celine Dion.  Not even a little bit.  Nothing against Celine or the millions of people who must adore her since she sold out her show in Las Vegas for how many years???   But, her brand of music tends to be a little melodramatic for Momma's taste.  Yet, somehow Ms. Dion has appeared in my iTunes library, and is now on the iPod I keep hooked up in my car.  Curious...

So, on the drive home tonight, I had the always dangerous iPod shuffle rotation in full swing.  Peanut, I think you sneak into the car and turn on songs that will speak to Momma in ways she never, ever imagined.  Like tonight.  I'm cruising along, minding my own business, when that Celine Dion song from "Titanic" starts playing.  You know the one - "My Heart Will Go On."  It's billed as the romantic love theme from the movie, but I realized tonight it truly is a love letter to the most precious person in your life in the midst of heartbreak.

Anyway, here's what happened as I'm DRIVING.  The song starts playing with those telltale flute-like instruments.  For some reason I don't forward to the next song.  The lyrics kick in -

Every night in my dreams
I see you, I feel you
That is how I know you go on

Far across the distance
And spaces between us
You have come to show you go on

At this point, I realize I'm crying.  Just a little cry.  Not too bad.  I throw on my sunglasses to prevent strange looks from other drivers.  

Near, far, wherever you are
I believe that the heart does go on
Once more you open the door
And you're here in my heart
And my heart will go on and on

Little cry is turning into a big cry.  Hmmm...is it still safe to be driving along at 50 mph?  Sure...

Love can touch us one time
And last for a lifetime
And never let go till we're gone

Love was when I loved you
One true time I hold to
In my life we'll always go on

Commence the sobbing.  Dammit.  I'm in the center lane.  Time to start thinking about getting pulled off the road.  Other drivers, please do NOT be alarmed!

Near, far, wherever you are
I believe that the heart does go on
Once more you open the door
And you're here in my heart
And my heart will go on and on

CUE THE DRAMATIC KEY CHANGE!  This gets me every time, whether it's in a commercial, a happy song, a love song.  Doesn't matter.  Sobbing turns into hysterical, heaving crying.  At least I'm finally pulled off the road in a random strip mall parking lot.  Classy, Momma.

You're here, there's nothing I fear
And I know that my heart will go on
We'll stay forever this way
You are safe in my heart
And my heart will go on and on

Oh, thank god.  The song's over.  The little flutey things are winding down.  Hmmmm...let's play it again!

Of course, I listened to it three more times.  In the midst of the final replay, I looked to my right and saw an amazing sunset behind a bank of clouds.  Four giant rays of sun were poking out in each direction, and I felt your warm smile.  Then, I got home tonight to find 4 - FOUR - froggies hanging out on our kitchen window.  Bonus Peanut visits.  So, with that my darling boy, I send you giant kisses and tell you I love you to the moon and back...on and on and on!

- Momma

Sweet Potato, Sweet Pea!

OK Peanut -

Let's talk turkey.  Well, actually...let's just talk food.  You, my little food motivated Nugget, were a wonder to behold at mealtime.  Even when you were only 2 days old, and barely 5 pounds.  Breastfeeding just was NOT working; we had to resort to bottles, pumping and formula.  You drank twice the amount of bottle than most babies your age, to our stunned surprise.  The nurse told us, "Give him as much as he'll take."  Um, OK!  We did.  And you did - a lot more than we expected!

This continued as we moved into rice cereal.  When other kids at school were hardly getting 3 spoonfuls down, you were eating an entire bowl.  Yet, you remained in the 40% in terms of weight.  Peanut - did you have a hollow leg?!

When we finally got to move into real foods and flavors, I prepared myself for the worst.  Difficult meal times.  Food flung across the room.  Crying.  Screaming.  Yeah, right Momma.  We had none of that.  Instead, you found delight in pretty much anything we put in front of you.  Sweet peas.  Apples.  Carrots.  Squash.  Sweet potatoes.  I think part of it was your total trust in Momma and Dadda.  You would briefly regard whatever was on your spoon, raise an eyebrow and look up at us like, "Are you SURE this is cool?"  We would smile, push the spoon towards you and just like that it was down the hatch.

Later, as you reached 1-year, I would steam and give you real, fresh veggies.  Again - bliss!  Apples and grapes.  And homemade chicken nuggets.  Turkey meatballs.  Grilled ham and cheese sandwiches.  Graham crackers.  Goldfish.  Oh...the Goldfish.  You actually shoveled so many of those into your mouth one day at school, you started choking and turned blue until your teacher saved you.  Whew!  But, did that teach you a lesson?  Of course not!  Bring on more Goldfish!

Peanut, your love of food - GOOD, healthy food - never failed to bring a smile to Momma's heart.  Meals were always soooo much fun, thanks to you and your delighted laughs and claps.  Can you maybe have a heart-to-heart with the Growing Bean about food?  I sure would love for the Bean to enjoy meals and tasty treats as much as my Peanut.

So, my wonderful, amazing Peanut.  I love you with all my heart and soul.  To the moooooooon and back!  (Air kiss - MWAHHH!)

- Momma