Right Where I am: 7 months 2 weeks 1 day

Following along in the Right Where I am Project:

I kind of wrote about this already the other day in a Past, Present Future scenario.

I’ll delve a bit more though. Right now I day dream. A lot. I day dream about Xavier, I day dream about another baby. I feel cheated out of his life, and I have no one to be angry about over that. No finger pointing will bring him back.

I cry when I read everyones poignant words to their babies through their blogs…tears stream down my face when I read about Jacob, Charlotte, Cullen, Aidan and Sofia. The impact such a short life held on these families, and the trauma their death  created.

I am jealous. I am jealous of babies that didn’t die. For the mom’s who get to smile real smiles. Even when I smile or laugh, it is tainted with the fact that he is dead. In an urn.

So I am still marching, putting one foot in front of the other.  I am hoping to one day want to walk forward…maybe even run a little, but for today, it’s still pretty raw.

Advertisements

14 thoughts on “Right Where I am: 7 months 2 weeks 1 day

  1. Sweet mamma you do everything you can to keep putting one foot in front of the other… and in the days when it feels like you just can’t possibly do that, please know that I, along with many others, am always here to help shine some light in a very dark place. Thinking of you and Xavier and continuing to follow your story….

  2. One foot in front of the other, sometimes, is the only thing we can do. I felt that way often the first year. Thank you for sharing right where you are. xo

  3. Everything is still so new and raw and fresh at seven months. Yet… the rest of the world has well and truly moved on, and that is hard.
    Thinking of you, glad to have clicked over here and I’m so sorry for your precious Xavier.
    xo

  4. I think putting one foot in front of the other was all I could do for a very long time, and sometimes even now, but it’s a start.
    Sending you love x

  5. I’m so sorry for the loss of your beautiful little boy, Xavier.

    I think that I found the fact that there was nobody to be angry with very hard to deal with, that I had all this fury inside me and nobody to blame or point the finger at. Even if I had, it would have done no good.

    The ‘past’ part of the post you have linked to here, broke my heart. I’m sorry that your little boy so much loved, wanted and anticipated isn’t right here with his family. I do so hope that the future holds everything you wish for. xo

  6. One foot in front of the other, even when you don’t want to – that sounds very familiar to me, and yet I can only imagine how hard it is to be mothering your boys while carrying this grief. Thinking of you and your beautiful little Xavier, and wishing he were in your arms.

  7. The first year for me was… well… it was a crawl. One foot in front of the other id absolutely amazing. You are amazing.

    Wishing Xavier was here with you x

  8. This is a beautiful, simple post. It gets to the point of it all. The idea that you must keep moving. You keep putting that one foot in front of the other seeing what the next day will bring you. Thank you for writing…and thank you for sharing Xavier with us all. Sending hugs your way.

  9. I’m so sorry for the passing of your precious baby boy, Xavier. I too lost my son because of that dreadful condition Preeclampsia. My heart goes out to you.

  10. Pingback: A post with no clear direction «

  11. I am sorry your precious Xavier isn’t in your arms where he should be. It is wrong, so wrong, that our beloved children are in an urn (or a burial plot in my case). I’m jealous of babies who didn’t die too – except rainbows. And I’m exceptionally jealous of mothers who don’t know loss. Even if I love them, I am jealous of them.

  12. Pingback: Right Where I am: 1 year, 7 months, 1 week and 6 days |

  13. Today is 7 months, 2 weeks, and 1 day since I lost my son, Avery. Thank you so much for sharing. It is good to know I’m not alone or crazy. I am comforted by your year later post. I hope in a year it wont feel so raw, even though I know the pain will still exist. I also read your most recent post, and I just want to say that my heart goes out to you and I will be keep your son in my thoughts and prayers. It is so hard to see other people grieving this loss too. I cant imagine watching my own child in pain like I’m in pain. At least I know my child is at peace. But this pain does make us who we are. And maybe we will all be stronger down the road. Love to you!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s