dealing with grief

The last few weeks have really had me thinking about people say careless things to people dealing with grief.  Unfortunately, unknowingly, I know I did it to people that I love and care about.  Before Weston died, I thought our life would be different.  We believed in miracles.  We cherished everyday. We worked ourselves to death to care for him and the kids and try to maintain a relationship.  It was not to be.  When Weston died, I knew it was my fault.  The weight of the entire world was on me.  Adam can never know how I felt in that instance of telling the doctors to just get off of him and me ripping lines out.  I think it was pure panic and torture.  I felt like I was screaming-or maybe just whispering.  My ears were burning.  I was doing a marathon in place.  My heart was bursting before my eyes.  As time went on, I read many of my prior posts about Miracles.  I even posted that the people that Weston touched were the Miracles.  That is exactly true.  To this day, I get messages from strangers about how we touched their lives.  For the Angel families that I hurt, please know that it was not intentional.  Our babies were all miracles.  Our babies all defied the odds and rocked this world in a way that we may never even know.  No, I will never have another baby to replace Weston and I constantly wonder if God took Weston because he knew that his personality and our family was too wild for a post transplant lifestyle.  Or maybe, God just said, Matthew 

28 "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. 

29Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart.  

I was weary in his last months.  I knew he was going to die.  I 

go back so many times to the last morning.  He had not been himself for so long,  Adam brought me a chair for rounds because I was so woozy from not sleeping and being pregnant.  I had talked to Dexter days earlier and we exchanged a few words about how I was going across the street and it was the first time I had left in a long time.  I talked to my best friend Laura.  I don't know about what.  She had our other kids.  I just remember her telling me to tell him that I love him.  So when we got the call, after we had left for brunch, my heart exploded.  Adam was in charge of all calls.  We were running but in slow motion.  In that moment, everything I believed was stolen.  Adam and I told Weston to go to Heaven and that he was so brave.  Then, there was a stolen silence.  Nurses and doctors  trying to calm us or clean him or lay more blankets down to step on.  And then, somehow we were laughing and telling jokes.  Those are the signs of love.  Mike T.  took Easton to play video games.  Nurses and doctors came from all over to tell us how they loved W and us.  

That is a day I will remember forever.  But, my favorite days, the days that mean so much to me were the days at CHOP and home where Weston lived.   Many years ago, he came home a few days ago on the 17 month anniversary at CHOP.  We celebrated every month!  Why?  Because he didn't die!

This kid-his hatred was July, my birth month.  From July 1-July 31, his heart and lungs would try to die.  He would pull through every year and he a rock star.  Every July, Adam and I would go into meetings that were filled with panic (from all parties) and love.  Tissues were passed around because we all knew what these meetings meant.  

As I look at the kids talking about their fun experiences with Weston, Ellie talking about her life at CHOP (seriously, this kid is a total Dr. Hanna girl), their lives may really not be normal but they had the best life.  They had a special life.  

So, I miss this big kid-he would be 9 now.  That is so big.  Maybe he would not want to be carried in my arms anymore?  Maybe he would be a math whiz?  Maybe he would read for me instead of his fav hospital teacher?  But then, maybe we weren't cut out to be transplant parents?  Maybe we did something wrong?  Maybe his life meant more than we will ever know?  

But, without a doubt, I know that there is another world, much better than this and I feel safe in knowing that Weston is there and waiting on me.  He will forever be 7 and I will be able to carry him around forever.