Animal Instinct

I remember reading a story a long time ago about a gorilla at a zoo that had a baby that had been born dead or died shortly after and she continued to carry it around with her- the zoo-keepers thought she didnt realize it had died, but now I'm not so sure. Sometimes, I think that if it were an option, if I weren't afraid of other people committing me, I would have brought Owen home with me and carried him around with me until there was nothing left. Even now the urge to have him with me physically is so strong that I sit caressing the tiny spot of blood left on his gown. That stained gown is one of my most precious posessions. It's all I have of him.

Fortitude

I was passed the flame of fortitude by C. over at My Resurfacing a few days ago. I'll admit it took me this long to figure out exactly how to display it and how to pass it on (technology has never been my strong suit.)


As C. stated so eloquently, "The flame represents strength, resiliency, perseverance, and honours those who share their struggle and their journey - regardless of how difficult - with so many others. "

With that in mind I would like to pass the flame to three women who inspire me:
Yummy Sushi Pajamas
Missing Micah
Southern Bella


I have been blessed by the women I have 'met' while blogging. Just knowing you are out there has gotten me through some days when I felt the fight had gone out of me. It is because of you that my flame still burns.

A Sore Spot

Last night, JD was talking about something and referred to our empty bedroom as Owen's room. I about bit his head off and snapped "That's not Owen's room. It never was." I surprised myself with my vehemence. Later, I apologized to JD. I guess I still get really angry when I am reminded of what might have been.

4 Months

Four months ago today, right this very minute, I was holding Owen and kissing him goodbye. I sang him a John Denver song that my parents used to play and I always loved.

Oh Montana give this child a home,
Give him the love of a good family and a woman of his own,
Give him a fire in his heart, give him a light in his eyes,
Give him the wild wind for a brother and the wild Montana skies

I wish I were the one to be giving him a home.

Prayer

Although I've never considered myself an overly religious person, I've always had a deep sense of faith. I prayed regularly. Even through everything that went on my mom's illness and a subsequent death, I kept praying and my faith was unshaken. All of that changed when Owen died. I suddenly found that I couldn't pray and, I'll be honest, that scared me. Yesterday I was going through some old papers and I found a notebook I had kept while taking a course on Judaism before JD and I married. In it I had written down a quote from the rabbi. He said "Don't pray for G-d to change things in your life. Prayer doesn't change things, prayer changes people and people change things." It doesn't make everything better but, it was what I needed to hear. I don't know what I believe anymore but I know I believe something.

What Would You Do?

I have a friend, S. We have been friends for almost a decade now but, due to time, family and distance, we probably only talk around 2-3 times a year now. Circumstances being what they were (mild hyperemesis, two small children, a move out of state, summer vacations, etc.), I never got around to telling her I was pregnant. Then Owen died and I crawled into myself and hid for the next few months. So, of course I got a nice newsy email from her a few days ago wanting to catch up. She asked how things are with us and I don't even know where to start. I find the thought of explaining everything just too exhausting to contemplate. At the same time, I can't write back and not mention Owen. So, I've done nothing.

What It Was

Well, as the first major holiday after losing Owen, thanksgiving was okay, I guess. There was lots of good food, mostly good family, and a few sad moments. I did host thanksgiving dinner at our house and so managed to stay busy enough that I wasn't constantly thinking about how the day should have been. I'm glad its over though. The holidays feel like one more thing I need to survive in order to learn how to live without Owen.