Avoiding Pain

While I am so thankful for my community and their willingness to always step in while I’m struggling, the pain of losing a child can not be fixed. I have been extremely busy since Jackson died (some by my choice and some not.) Having a very active 4 year old has forced me to get out of bed every day and tend to his needs, which are many, he was needy to begin with. Holding events where I have asked my community to lock arms with me has done wonders for my heart, but none of it change the fact that my 7 year old son is gone. It has been a bit of a distraction and I will always acknowledge that it has been purposeful. I haven’t really wanted to face the truth.

He was the boy who made me a mom.

I had 12 hours from the time I was told that there was nothing more the doctors could do until he took his last breath. We never have enough time with our children but trust me, 12 hours is not enough time to say goodbye. Everything has been going 100 miles an hour since he left this earth. I have not allowed myself much time to slow down and tend to my grief.

What I have learned over and over again is that grief is like an angry monster and if you don’t tend to that angry monster, he will come and slap you down. Well I’ve been slapped down. Being forced to not do the things that are good for my heart and soul and having zero control over it, puts me into a bad place.

I spoke to another mother who lost her son suddenly and it put me back into the place when I was thinking about Jackson’s brief but tumultous hospital stay. I could not fully process everything that was happening because it was happening at the speed of light. I could barely sit down before another doctor needed to come and talk to me. And on top of that, we were making arrangements for Ivan to be cared for. Oh and I had just given birth too so I was dealing with postpartum issues. I have literally had no time to process. And now I have all the time in the world and I am terrified. I don’t want to face it.

I will never hear my son’s voice again.

I will never get a 30 second hugger from my boy again.

I need a 30 second hugger from my boy more than anything right now.

I will never go to another school event for Jackson and I have never felt more pride then when I saw him in his element. My son did not get to go to 2nd grade, he didn’t get to turn 8, he didn’t get to lose a tooth. He will never kiss a girl, have a broken heart, get married or give me grandchildren. I have chosen not to focus on those things but don’t think for one second that I don’t realize it.

Today it’s hard for me to focus on the gifts, even though they are many. Today, I am being forced, against my will, to face what I haven’t wanted to face. My 7 year old son is dead. He died. I will never see him again. And I hate everything about it.

I will get back to doing the things to feed my soul and help me to feel better. But today, no one can fix the pain I’m in. I just have to face it. Jackson Julius Schmitt, I will never be the same without you because loving you and raising you for the 7 years I was given, were the greatest 7 years of my life. I need strength and prayers to get through the years of giving your brother the life that he deserves. He didn’t deserve to lose you but I will do my best to give him what he needs. Mommy’s heart is shattered. I cried myself to sleep last night. This hurts worse than anything I could have ever fathomed having to endure. There are things you can do to help with physical pain but nothing helps with the pain of losing the apple of my eye, my pride and joy, my precious baby boy. You have been and will always be my baby and I was the only woman you ever loved and that is such an honor.

To all of the women who have lost children, my heart breaks for you. This is not how it’s supposed to be. I hope you have a good support system who can love you through this pain. If you haven’t lost a child, consider yourself fortunate. You could never fathom this kind of pain. Think about how much you love your child and multiply it times a zillion, then you have one iota of an idea how much this hurts.