Collin Xavier Coloura

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Time Marches On....

It's hard to believe that 6 weeks have passed since Collin was stillborn.  During that time, I feel like I've had a barrage of emotions running throughout my body.  At this point I sometimes wonder if something is wrong with me when I don't sit crying for hours on end.  I think my tears are "stuck" at times and just won't flow.  I've been told "time heals wounds" or "time will make it easier".  I'm not sure that time has made it easier.  I honestly don't know if I WANT time to make it easier.  I've just learned not to tell everyone how I really feel at every second of the day.  When I'm asked "how are you doing?", I tend to say "okay".  But, what I REALLY want to say is....."time will never really help.  I'll put on a mask.  I'll get up like I do every morning, shower and get my clothes on because that's what is expected of me.  But, what I really want to do is curl up in bed and not do anything. The sun still comes up and goes down every day.  My world has stopped, but yours continues uneffected by my son's death".  Of course people don't really want to hear all that. 

I really shouldn't be angry that everyone elses' world "goes on", but in reality, I AM! They don't wake up every morning with an ache in their hearts.  They don't watch their other children play and realize that one of them will never slide, swing, swim, or laugh like the others will.  My children ARE a blessing, but they also constantly remind me of the things Collin will NEVER do.  I know  his spirit is always with me, but honestly, that's not good enough.  Call me selfish, but I just want him.  We were at Landa Park yesterday and I was vividly reminded of all the things he will never do.  I tried to enjoy my day as my children gleefully ran around and played.  I sat and wondered what everyone else was doing.  They were working, teaching kids, progamming computers, etc.  The fact is, six weeks have gone by and the sting of losing Collin has probably lessened for everyone else.  I'm grateful for all the support we've received, but people go on with their lives.  They expect me to pick up and live mine.  Our family will never be the same. Our family has been changed forever.  Our expctations of what our "time" here on Earth now looks different.

I look forward to that "time" when I'll get to be with him again, but until now....the sun will come up and the sun will go down for me everyday.  And the "time" I get to spend with him is at a National Cemetery-where No parent should ever have to visit their newborn baby!!!

Saturday, May 14, 2011

A quote from a post I read

I read this post today.  I'm sad to say that I know this woman's pain. 




I think for me the main differences are that stillborn babies had personality, they had a routine, you got to know what made them move, you felt them everyday. You expect them more, because the pram is bought, because the cot is set up already in the bedroom, because you spent hours washing and ironing the clothes and making up the hospital bag, because you were expecting them any day now!! Because you went on to labour and delivery and even then were expecting to meet ____ anyminute... then you were taken to a seperate room, you didn't have the fetal monitor, but you had the USS, and then you had the hours of induction, the waiting without expectation, the pushing, without the surprise, the holding without the tears of joy. The baby fully formed, with eyes like mommy, and a mouth like daddy, with little fingers and toes, not grasping, a chest not rising and falling, and a body slowly cooling, and turning blue. You didn't put baby in the carseat, you didn't recieve the information about breast feeding, all you got was a box with 4 photos, and some hand/foot prints... you didn't leave by the front door with blue/pink balloons in tow, you followed the nurse silently down to the morgue, wincing with every step because of the stitches, because of the gut wrenching separation, you left by the side door, and slipped back home, to an empty house, to see all the baby presents, to see the dreams shattered on the floor. To begin the task of phoning people, expecting to hear name weight and time of arrival... but those details come later, after the news is shared. You sit numb in your house, whilst flowers and cards arrive, everyone demanding decisions about the funeral you never thought you'd plan. The shock takes you, life stands still. Everyone has pity on their faces, everyone hugs and condoles, but in a few weeks they've all forgotten, and you are left with the emptiness...
No stillbirth isn't really comparable to miscarriage. "

Saturday, May 14, 2011

This is a test. I lost all of my other content.  Just testig.