I’m a Stinky Poopy S$&t Head

Ok, so the title of this blog is suppose to make you laugh. I read that people are more open to supporting you during your grief if you make them laugh every so often. The same book also said that oscillating between grief and happiness will make my "healing" more healthy and well rounded. So we’ll see if there is any truth in that.

But I am a stinky poopy s$&t head, at least some of the time. I don’t sleep well anymore and in my groggy middle of the night reflections, I remember some things with surprising clarity. Last night I was thinking about when some friends of our lost their baby. And I prayed with them. And I said everything wrong. I said all of the things that make me want to punch someone in the face now when they say them to me. Things like "we know this is your will" and "she won’t be suffering anymore" and other things that I’ve previously posted about. Because even though I sometimes think those things and can grab onto a second of hope from them, it doesn’t help me to hear you say them. It helps me a lot more when you acknowledge how much this sucks and how unfair it is and that you don’t know why God would allow anything to happen to babies, especially to my baby. So thinking of what I prayed over my friends as their daughter lay dying a few feet away, I feel like a jerk.

I also have been wanting to write advice to other parents who are facing losing their child. As if anything I have to say can actually make the process of watching your baby die easier. Granted, there are things that we learned during and after Maddie’s death that I wish we had known before. But knowing these things may have made the grieving easier, not her death. Not living without her. Not imagining her as an active part of our lives every second - none of that gets easier.

I do know that if Faith and Love and Effort and Hope only could keep these babies alive, they would all live long happy lives. While all (normal) parents love their children in a way that is indescribable, I feel ok telling you that parents of sick children love them even more. There is little you take for granted or feel inconvenienced by when you know the alternative is death.

I have a theory that all children, at one point or another, need their parents to fight for them. Most children put us through this as teenagers or adults when they make stupid decisions and need their parents to help them out of it. And when your time comes to fight for your child, you have accept that you can’t control the outcomes, just how hard you fight. And that sucks. And when you lose the fight, even temporarily, and lose your child, even temporarily, you doubt everything you’ve ever believed. You distrust everything ever said and done. You agonize over every decision you’ve made. But somehow, you don’t stop fighting, you just find a way to change the rules of engagement and your expected outcomes. And for a while, it doesn’t suck as bad.

Ok, well I feel like I’m rambling. Plus I’m at my mother in laws house and she just finished making Pink cupcakes (henceforth referred to as Maddie Cupcakes) for Maddie’s 3 month birthday. I’m going to go gain a few more pounds in honor of my little girl.

Please remember to pray for Liam, Levi, Rowan and Memphis and all of the other CDH families.