September 19, 2011

Missing Cale

I think about Cale all the time. But especially in the car. I don't know why, but anytime I'm driving anywhere, I re-live June 28th over and over. I think about what it was like waiting for the terrible news I knew was coming after the failed attempts to find his heartbeat. I think about how foreign it was to see so many tears in Miles eyes after I caught my breath and looked up at him. About how that made me cry even more. I think about how I rubbed my belly and talked to Cale when, for a brief moment, no one was in the room but us. I think about how scared I was to deliver him. How I still expected him to cry once he was born. I think about saying "hi Cale" when I first held him. How seeing his little hand under the blanket made me cry even more. I think about his wavy dark hair and his cute little lips. They were such a deep red. He was perfect and real. But not alive. It's been almost 15 months. I know Cale's not coming back. But I still have a hard time wrapping my head around it sometimes. My baby is dead. It's a hard pill to swallow.

These couple of months post the one year mark have been hard for me. I'm not sure if it's just because grief is a sneaky bastard and will catch you off guard or if it's because the couple of months leading up to the year mark were also counting down to Finn's arrival. So maybe some of these emotions that would have oozed out earlier are now creeping to the surface now. I'm not sure. I don't think there is a timeline on grief and I am never bothered by getting upset and missing him. I don't feel like that's a sign of weakness or an unwillingness to "move on," but rather a sign of how much I love him. It doesn't bother me to grieve. It bothers me that I have a reason to do so.

I'm absolutely loving my time with Finn and I do feel that I love him so much more deeply because of everything we've been through. I kiss him all the time, hold him whenever I can. I physically cannot leave him in his crib at night or at daycare without telling him how much I love him and giving him a kiss. But gosh, I miss my first son so very much. I miss everything I dreamt we'd have with him - the life he never got to have. Seeing Miles with Finley is so touching - he's such a good dad. I love seeing them interact. But I wish he got to have all those experiences with Cale. When he was holding Cale he was wearing this big navy blue sweatshirt that Daren had brought him (along with a few other things as it was cold in the hospital room, but Miles never left to go home). The sweatshirt was relatively new and had that really soft feel to it. He held Cale so gently and Cale just fit in his arms, in that comfy sweatshirt, so perfectly - the way a new baby should in a father's arms. So when I look at Miles holding his second son or playing with him, I soak in the moment and treasure it because it's something he never got with his first, but should have.

I know I will always miss Cale and I know that I can be {and still am} happy. It's just that my grief for him will be intertwined in every thought, action, and event that takes place in our life. And I don't think that's a bad thing. Sometimes it makes the experience more wonderful. Sometimes it makes things harder, yes, but my grief and Cale's short life have put a perspective on my own life that I am thankful for. But some days, some moments, I just miss my baby. Plain and simple. I just miss him. I ache for him and I love him so, so much.

9 comments:

  1. Grief is a sneaky bastard! I am so thankful you have Finn, but it is so unfair to not get those same experiences with Cale. I don't know if we will ever stop reliving that day, so hard and yet so thankful to have time with our babies no matter how short.

    PS thanks for your book suggestion you left on my blog, I have one book, but I will have to check the one you said out :)

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  2. I agree that our situation sometimes makes an experience more wondeful. Im glad to hear you still miss him, not bc i want you to be sad, but bc i don't want to be "over" Hayes even after having another baby just as you aren't "over" Cale now that you have Finn.

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  3. You definitely said it best. Grief IS a sneaky little bastard. It's just so hard. Our losses most definitely make us appreciate every little thing that much more. Just like when I was in the commissary earlier today and Samuel decided to flip out during check out. His cries don't phase me one bit, but they sure resulted in some nasty looks from another customer. All I could think was...yeah, I've been that person giving those looks...and now here I am patiently reminding Sam that we're *almost* done -- appreciating the fact that I even get to experience such moments with that sweet (or not so sweet at that moment) boy.

    I'm so glad you and Miles are able to enjoy such sweet moments with adorable little Finn! I know that Cale is not far from your thoughts, nor will he ever be. Your two sweet little boys...

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  4. I can picture myself writing this post someday. Your words are likely typical of all us bereaved moms. No matter how many children are to come in our futures, we'll still always miss our firstborn babes. And I can guarantee Andrew made me love deeper than I've ever known in my life. It is a special gift-- though gosh how I wish I didn't have to learn it this way.

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  5. grief is a sneaky bastard, no doubt about that. thinking about your precious Cale with you. i wish we could just have our children here with us.

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  6. "Grief is a sneaky bastard"...so damn true. I am so happy that you have Finn and that I have Norah but I wish that we had Cale and Harper, too. It is just so hard but certainly makes every breath that much sweeter. We will always miss them and always love them so very much.

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  7. Grief IS a bastard. I can feel your love for Cale in your writing and imagine he is up there smiling at his mom and dad loving on he and his brother so fiercely. xox

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  8. I know just what you mean about the fact that it doesn't bother you to grieve, it bothers you that you have a reason to. I get so frustrated with anyone who thinks that there's something wrong with being sad. My grief is not an obsession, but it is an inescapable emotion that directly results from the love I feel for my daughter. How could that be wrong? Remembering Cale with you, and sending much love to Finn as well.

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  9. I struggle with the coming year mark of Aiden's birthday and the upcoming birth of our second son. It's hard sometimes to balance the grief and the happiness. I miss Aiden so much.

    I wish I could bring back all the babies that left this world too soon. Thinking of you and both your precious boys.....

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