1000 Piece Puzzle

Don't you just hate periods of time when so many things happen or run through your mind?  You had the best of intentions of blogging about  THIS, but then THAT happened.  I feel that way as of late. 

I wanted to blog last week about wishing that people understood that just because it's been 1 year, 4 months and 28 days. or 515 days, or 12360 hours, or 741,600 minutes since Kyle passed it doesn't mean I am over it.  I may smile and I may laugh, I may look like I am living, but I assure you I am not the person I was before - I never will be.  I have missed my baby boy each and every one of those 741,600 minutes.  I wish people understood that some times there are moments when I can barely breathe because I miss my son so much.  I wish people understood these moments, quite often, catch me by surprise.

I wanted to blog about seeing new babies, pregnant women and most especially twins.

I wanted to blog about empty cribs.

I really wanted to blog this weekend about being married - a subject which you may have guessed (from my lack of mention of a husband) will be most interesting when I do bring it up.

I wanted to blog about the progress on my upcoming surgery.

I wanted to blog Monday about the amazing rainbow I saw.

But today I really wanted to blog about the awkward question all of us with Angels Babies dread - How many children do you have?  Well, actually the question to me was, "You have two sons?"  I am not sure where the guess of two came, other than the fact that I have enough pictures of Jack around my office that it probably seems more like 10 kids than 1.  So it went something like this - A new person started at our office today.  As she was sitting across from my desk in my office she innocently asked - "You have two sons?"  I actually stumbled over my words to say that yes I have two, however one passed away.  I stumbled through a shortened version of the story.  At the end I felt bad.  I felt bad because this woman asked a question which should be innocent enough, but I have the unpleasant duty of explaining that my baby is not with me.  Babies shouldn't die.  Mommies should never have to explain to someone who innocently asks on a beautiful fall day that the beautiful baby boy she sees in a picture is actually in the cold ground in a little white casket.  This conversation isn't fair to anyone.

This got me thinking about the Kyle's Angels First Annual Angel Baby Balloon Release and another woman in the office.  I don't know how many other people around here know, but shortly after Kyle passed and I returned to work she confided in me that she had a son.  Her baby died of SIDS many years ago when he was just a few months old.  There are no pictures of her baby in her office.  I know everyone grieves differently, and I know there is a sort of stigma attached to mommies of Angel Babies, and I know talking about dead babies is sort of taboo, what I don't know is why?  Every Angel Baby deserves to be remembered.  I have no doubt that her Angel Baby is loved.  She should be able to have a picture of him on her desk and if someone asks about him she should be able to say, "That's my son.  He's no longer here," and that should be the end of the conversation.  But people want to know the whole story, every little detail, and they think it's their right to know.  Instead mommies of Angel Babies feel the need to tuck away the keepsakes and pictures in the back of a closet somewhere.  Angel Babies deserve to be remembered and Angel Baby Mommies deserved to be honored.

There's a lot I wanted to blog about.  Good thing no one's checking this blog out daily waiting for the latest omelet from my scrambled brain.