Monday, June 9, 2014

5 years later

There was once a time I wondered if I would ever feel OK again. To feel a breath of air without feeling suffocated and to live with the power of laughter. I once urned to feel alive again, I starkly remember everything being a blur. At the time, grief knocked the breath out of me over and over and over again. I was knocked down by the shrill thought of our nightmare.

The night, that in it's  young was full of hope and coated with naive. I went to bed taking for granted that tomorrow would happen, sure it would be filled with anxiety and fear but I already was given the free ticket to this ride that I already cautiously accepted. 

That phone call changed everything. In an instant. And oh how I have come to know how and instant can halt infinity in a fraction of a second. Your hopes come shattered in front of you, your very breath raped from your soul and reality smacks you right there in your face.

That's my story. Not everything is happy. I, well... we became that story. The one I once shy ed away from, never thought would happen to me kind of story. We turned the corner what seemed like a slow motion movie to see our less than one pound baby surrounded by every nurse, RT & DR in that room fighting. Ventilators being switched, compressions being counted, tears filling the very eyes on the other side of the bed. The side I am used to being on. 




I held him. They encouraged me to and at the time I didn't think that moment would be monumental, they were still doing compressions and I was praying out loud in tears that God would give us a pass. He would teach me my lesson right then and there. This was just a nightmare.

But he didn't spare us. 

We all know the story, I have typed it over and over again. Code was called, I fell in Chris' arms and I now know more than ever the process that begin right there in that moment.


I guess I look back 5 years later and still- as vivid as that moment was etched into my heart- today it's so different. I remember moments but barely my surroundings, how I acted, what I said. And if it wasn't for this blog- god only knows what I would remember and it saddens me.

But here I am wishing I remembered more. Praying I had a vivid good memory, one I could recall without having to read a blog post or flashback to something bad. I want to remember the good Nolan gave us, the fight we fought for him when OB specialist told us it would be OK to give up and not to bother to have hope.

I was driving down the road tonight, it was dark with no other cars beaming in the distance and I flash backed to the night I drove home from Sanibel at 3 in the morning after visiting Chris at work after I had a mental breakdown at home. I forgot how broken  I once was triggered by something as easy as driving past the hospital- my gosh the thought of even stepping foot in there would send me over edge.

Today I grieve, it's a different grief. It's still a raw and painful jagged feeling but different. I only longed what it would feel like to be a mother, granted I knew I was a mother. But all I knew was broken and ugly. One that justified my title by my emptiness trying to convince myself that through that glass he knew I was his mom cheering him on every second of the way. I knew the entire time his odds were against him. It's reality. I chose to ignore that because I didn't want him to feel that.


Today I grieve normalcy. I long for that feeling to have 2 children in the same household, pray that CC would call out to Nolan and wish I had to tame 2 insane boys all while juggling a career and household. My triggers have evolved to those with normal families that throw innocent birthday parties that have siblings and chaos. I want that SO BADLY. I am having to grasp that CC is an "only child" YET...he's SO not.

I cried the other night when I told CC to wish Nolan a Happy Birthday in his prayers and he so innocently looked at me with a sad face and said "But he's too far away"

I have done my best to teach CC he has a big brother who lives in heaven, that we visit in a memorial garden. He knows to blow kisses to his Great Grandpa, Uncle Charlie & his cousin Brice when we visit Nolan. He told me a few weeks ago that Nolan wasn't teeny tiny anymore but a big boy now. He said it with such certainty that it took my breath away.




It's my normal. I just wish it was so different but our stars weren't aligned as such. I often daydream what our life would be like with 2 boys here and how we would be different.

But oddly enough, I have come accustomed to it. I have adapted to this life, slowing accepting how I react to what was given to us. My hand has been held by some incredible people, INCREDIBLE. As alone as I felt having my heart ripped from me, I oddly never felt alone. 


He has allowed me to move my own mountains that I never knew existed before him. I miss him with my entire being and long for that hope he made my heart swell with. He made me a Mom. A first time Mom that taught me love can be eternal yet not forever tangible. An that  instant can be a lifetime.

And your little miraculous lifetime made me who I am.
You are beautiful.

I miss you Nolan


9 comments:

Kerry Alderman-Murphy said...

Beautifully written, and I agree wholeheartedly with everything you said. Love you!

Brie said...

Fantastic post, Ashley. Hard to believe five years has passed.

belle said...

It's good to hear from you! Happy 5th birthday, Nolan.

Thanking of you-

Laura Jane said...

Hope Nolan's birthday was gentle on you. Five years seems like an eternity, and yet nothing at all.

This version of life is hard. It's hard to keep going when your entire spirit screams to just stop, roll over and die yourself. But you've done it, and so much more. He would be extremely proud, I am sure, of you and his little brother.

I love that CC told you Nolan is a big boy. I believe in those sorts of things <3

Beauty Within said...

God Bless you Ashley! My Daughter has experienced the same pain, only loosing a daughter. My daughter's cry was the most heart wrenching sound I have ever heard. It was July 3rd 2000.
My prayers are with you! My daughter can't talk about my granddaughter, Hope, without tears stopping the conversation.
I'm new to blogging but am glad I came across your sight.
tammiepipgras.blogspot.com

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