The smell of Fall

Here we are.  Two weeks away from September.  I can already smell Fall in the air while I was in Caledonia visiting Zachery yesterday.  Fall is like a pre-quil to the emotional roller coaster ride I go through from December to February.  In the Fall of 2006, it was when reality hit me like a transport truck, that Zachery was really gone. If you have never lost a child, you won't "get it". It was the changing of the seasons that made me realize he was never coming home.  Here I sit 5.5 years later.  I think it is the smell of Fall that sets me off.  Or maybe it was yesterday.  Brandon and I made the long treck to Caledonia to visit Zachery.  It isn't really that long of a treck.  It's just all the traffic we have to deal with to get there.

We made the treck as we did in the Spring to clean up Zachery's grave, to plant some flowers and to say Hello. I had been fine all day.  Even on the drive in through Hamilton.  Then as we came over the tracks into Caledonia, the flood gates opened.  I don't know why this visit was so hard.  Visiting him this time was a lot harder than when I moved out in January.  It doesn't take a lot to set me off.  As we drove through Caledonia. I looked out the window at all the stores and places we used to go.  Zachery and myself on our own for a walk.  Or as a family with Brandon and Zachery's father Craig.  Every store had a memory.  I was crying and we hadn't even hit the cemetery yet.  Maybe going back to Caledonia is a reminder of my loss (es).  I had 2.  Zachery being one.  My marriage being second.  I had it all.  I had never been so happy in those few years. We had our ups and downs, and it was never easy taking care of a special needs baby.  But I did it.  Looking forward to every morning I would walk in Zachery's room and see his beaming smile looking up at me.  I would pick him up and take him down stairs.  Changing him and taking in every bit of him.  He took my breath away.  I grieve for the life I had.  Still. And probably always will.

I had to stop at the old house too yesterday to drop off the canopy we had left to the new owners.  I got there and noticed they had torn out a lot of the flowers and shrubs I planted.  I was angry.  I knocked on the door and got no answer.  I went around to the back to see if they were there and nothing.  I peered through the fence and saw what used to be mine.  Ours.  The pool was open.  They had a different gazebo up and had taken the wood deck apart down by the pond.  My blood started to boil.  I don't know why.  Maybe I shouldn't have just stopped by.  But I did.  I came around to the front and got in the car.  I told Brandon the changes they made in the back.  I was upset.  Call me crazy.  I shouldn't be upset.  I sold the house, moved out and have started to move forward..  Maybe it is what I wanted to see.  See everything the way it was, the way we made it.  As we left, this song came on the radio.  By Nickelback, called Photograph.  That song fits how I feel sometimes.  "Looking out the back door etc, looking out the front door etc".  That was me after I lost Zachery.  That was me yesterday as I peered through the fence and opening the door to knock on the inside door.  The sound of the door creaking.  It hit me.  That familiar creak of what used to be mine. 

As it is sad to go back there, I felt close to Zachery.  As I have said in previous posts, I don't feel him here on the base.  I wish I did.  Oh God I wish I did.  It is hard to let go.  Let go of what I had.  Am I crazy to feel happy sad going back to the house?  Anyways, we left and went to the cemetery.  There were weeds growing and a pink lilly in bloom.  Just once.  Just once would I like to go to the cemetery and find it cleaned up and flowers planted by someone else.  His father?  His grandparents? Ok.  Maybe I shouldn't be so harsh about his grandparents, as they always take a wreath at Christmas time.  They all know I got posted up here. I have asked them to keep an eye on it and have even suggested in the past to plant flowers if you want.  I would like that. But no.  Nothing.  As hard as it is to go visit Zachery, I know I must.  Who else is going to take care of his grave?  It makes me sad that no one else especially his father goes and cleans it up.  Maybe he does go and just can't bare to clean it up and plant stuff.  I know it was hard for him to go when he passed.  But wasn't it for me?  I went nearly everyday. Late at night, sprawled on the grass bawling my eyes out at 11 oclock at night, wanting to hold him.  Not caring what the neighbours right across the street from the cemetery thought.  Maybe after 5.5 years this is something that I have to learn to accept.

After we planted some flowers and watered them and spoke to Zachery for a bit, we left.  As we drove out of Caledonia, it was a relief to leave.  Don't get me wrong.  It felt good to plant flowers and say hello, but it felt awful at the same time. Sometimes I think it is easier to just not go.  But I can't.  As painful as it is, I want Zachery to look down and see how much he was loved and still is.

Post Operation

30 July 2011, 5 weeks after my surgery, hanging out at Canada's Wonderland. Still a little swollen, will post another photo in a month to show the difference.  I will also have to dig one out Pre Operation.  Love the difference and having a flat tummy again.

Post Op

Well it's been 5 weeks since my surgery and am feeling pretty good, still a little sore.  Surgery went pretty good except for the fact I lost a lot of blood during surgery. I went back to work after 2 weeks leave, at that point I was still very sore.  The prescribed narcotics I'm on are helping quite a bit, but the military doesn't like you being on narcotics for long so they've  got me down to about half the dose I initially was on.  I am managing with that.  Hopefully I will be completely healed in another month or so.

I am very happy with the results of my surgery, it is so nice to have a nice flat belly again.  Having babies sure can ruin a woman's figure.  I have been buying clothes in smaller sizes already too, but am still not able to do PT until I'm completely healed.  I can't wait!  I am doing what I can like walking and some upper body weights and swimming.  I am a stomach sleeper so sleeping on my back for the last 5 weeks really does suck, even with sleeping pills.

They sedated me a different way this time. I got whatever they gave me intravenously and not through a mask over my face.  Last time I had surgery with a mask over my face, I can remember slipping off to la la land.  With the IV, I remember talking to everyone one minute, next minute was out cold.  They even intubated me.  I awoke from the surgery just as they wheeled me out of recovery.  The place where I got my surgery was a private clinic in Barrie. I preferred getting it done privately rather than a hospital.  The place is a huge mansion facing the lake. After recovery they wheeled me into the recovery room whiched faced the lake. I am still a bit swollen but this surgery was worth every second of the pain I went through and the $9000 I paid.  This time next year I will be in a bikini as the incision for the procedure is below my bikini line will have healed by then.

Once I got into the OR and had everything hooked up I wasn't scared or nervous at all. I could feel Zachery with me, and  I was prepared for whatever outcome and glad the outcome I wanted came through.

The fol week I was admitted to the hospital for a day as  while I was waiting for a script to be filled at the Base Pharmacy, the Nurse Practitioner who takes care of me, noticed I was very white and didn't look well.  She sent me to get blood work done and sure enough was admitted. I was looking and feeling anemic because of the amount of blood I lost during surgery.  They first thought I had a blood clot in my lung and had to do an MRI.

Have you ever had to get an MRI?

It was my first time getting one done and I had to drink this nasty stuff and once you drink it and it goes through you, and they do what they do you feel like you have gone pee!  You get this sensation like you have just gone pee. Seriously.  What a strange sensation.  I was paranoid thinking I had a blood clot but thankfully they were wrong and found out I had a slight pneumonia. Rather have that, than a blood clot.  I never did tell my Dad about my surgery, he worries way to much about me as it is.

I know for a fact Zachery was with me during my surgery, I could feel his presence all around me.  I am glad everything went the way I wanted it to go with only a slight complication..

I am also glad that I got this surgery before a breast reduction.  That being said, the numbing you get from the incision, I def don't want that up top so I think I have had a change of heart to get it done now.  The mil staff at the Base Hospital have been so good to me, especially Dr A, and Dr Q.  Again anyone wanting this done it is def worth the money and pain you go through, at 42 having a nice flat belly is awesome..

I would say another month my swelling will be down and I will post pictures!

One of Zachery's favourite songs

Zachery loved to bounce in his high chair when this song came on the tv, it once was in a Zellers commercial.

Zachery's name on the sidewalk

Zachery's name on the sidewalk.  Thank you Tiffany.

I am not afraid

This coming Tuesday, the 21st of June, I am going in for some major cosmetic surgery.  I wasn't going to tell anyone about what it was for except for family.  I am going in for a tummy tuck, something I have wanted to do for the last 20 years.  This post is not about the surgery but about what could happen and the risks involved. Well not exactly that either.  It is more about if something does happen to me which is out of my control, I am not afraid of death.  I am afraid that if something does happen, the people I will leave behind.  Brandon.  My living son. I have thought about it all week, that the surgery I am going in for, there are some risks, such as infections and blood clots, but of course, I am going to take every precaution there is to avoid either of those. 

The thought that if something does happen to me, I will be with Zachery again.

I will be at peace.

I don't want to scare anyone but just in case, everyone knows.  The thought of leaving Brandon behind is what scares me.  He is a grown man, but I know the pain of losing a parent.  It wasn't easy.  It has been 10 years and there is a huge void in my life.  I don't want that for him.  Ever.  But just in case something should happen, I will be with my Zachery.  I don't even want to get into the thought of what my Dad would go through.  He lost his first born, Jane, in January 1974 of Lupus.  I can see in his eyes and the way he talks about her that he misses her terribly.  37 years later.


So keep your fingers and toes crossed for me, that everything goes safely and smoothly.  I am looking forward to a new me in the next few weeks.

Springtime (St.. Patrick's Cemetery)

Visiting my Zachery, May 2011.

My first Mother's Day alone. To be strong or to mope?

I didn't realize it until a couple of days ago, that I would be spending Mother's day alone.  I really don't know how tomorrow will go.  Brandon my living son is in Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu, Quebec on his Basic course.  He's a grown man at 22 but yet I miss him terribly.  I am glad he has joined the military.  Finally. He will be home in 3 months but in a few weeks he will have the weekend off so hopefully he can make it to see me.

I am settled in my new place.  It has it's good and it's bad.  The goods being it is a new place for me and I don't have the constant reminder of my losses.  Zachery for one.  My marriage for two. I am renting and living on post, so it is half the cost and half the size to clean.  Oh, and it is 2 minutes from work, not even.  The bad, well there is not a whole lot of bad.  The only bad is I don't feel Zachery near me here.  My old house I could feel his presence everywhere, every room I was in and every breath I took.  I could still smell his sweet baby smell everywhere.  I really neglected my gardens after I lost Zachery.  I neglected everything.  I saw no happiness and no point in life.  I remember I used to look out the backyard and it was like a movie playing in my head, us out in my weedless, perfectly manicured garden, the pond, the pool.  I was so happy.  I look back and took that happiness for granted sometimes.

I am happy, somewhat, don't get me wrong.  I am able to work, go to the gym, do things that once upon a time, I found no happiness in.  I went from finding and using every bit of strength to get out of bed, then get dressed.  I remember just doing that felt like I had run a marathon.  Literally.  Only to make myself down the stairs and flop and mope on the couch and reach for the converter and flip the tv on.  I did that many days, calling in sick to work, and just sleeping away my days.  I slept and slept and I slept.  I slept so much because it was my only escape from the sheering pain that was ripping my heart apart.  Even to breathe ached, my whole entire body felt it.  There were so many dark days, I felt what is the point?

The point was, that Brandon who was 15 at the time, still needed me.  And still needs me.  His happiness was more important than me escaping my pain and ending it all.  As painful as it was, I made it through and am still here.  It wasn't easy let me tell you. 

I had many days that I contemplated taking my own life.  It was every other day.  Or sometimes it was a bunch of days, and many times in those days put together.  Driving my car off the road.  Parking my car in the garage and leave it running.

I will brief about this.  I had come very very close one day.  It was about a year after. I had been on Oxycontin pain killers for my 2 herniated discs as well as Percocets.  I had a full bottle.  I thought I just can't hang on to this string anymore, I can't do it.  I poured the almost full bottle of Oxycontins in my hand which was about 80, 20mg pills and poured a glass of water.  I was just about to open my mouth and put the pills in and swallow them.  But for some reason a light went off.  I thought, OMG, Brandon is at school and will come home and find me.


I put the pills away and never really thought about it again.   What I thought after that and every day after was, how am I going to cope, how am I going to hang on to this string?

Getting posted to a new unit helped, I met new people.  I met a guy who is now one of my best and closest friends Alex.  He has got me through some of my toughest days. I also met someone online.  He was a good online friend and is in the American military.  He helped me through a lot of dark days, mostly just occupying my time by talking to me.  Sometimes for 5 hours.  We haven't talked in a year and I often wonder if he is ok.  He deployed to Afghanistan last year.  I am and was so grateful for those two people in my life.

So tomorrow, I might just drive to Caledonia and visit Zachery.  Sometimes long drives with loud music will drown out my thoughts.  My mom Mary Anne passed away when I was 14 months old of a brain tumour and my (step) mom who felt like my real mom as she is the only mother I knew, passed away 11 Nov 2000.  So, it is not like I can go visit them and bring them flowers and stuff.  My step mom's ashes were scattered at the family home in the garden as she wanted.  My mom is buried in Burlington at Holy Sepulchre cemetery.  It is strange, I look at her pictures and hear stories about her.  Strange, strange that she is my mother and I don't have that "connection" I should have.  I don't know her.  I will never know her.  I feel guilty.  Guilty because I don't think about her that often.  I should.  This is my mother.  A mother who chose to have me rather than surgery to take her tumour out.  She had 5 children.  I am the youngest, and knew my dad since they were both 14 or so.  She was 41 when she passed away.  I posted her picture on one of my facebook's (I have 2, one for friends and angel parent friends and the other for friends in case you have come across both and wonder) and have had a couple of people tell me I look just like her.  I always thought I looked like my dad.  But looking at her picture every day for the last week made me realize I am the spitting image of her.

I know this post is a lot of muttering back and forth and jumping from one topic to to the next but, it has helped me decide that tomorrow I will be productive and go do something like go the the gym, shower, hop in the car and visit Zachery and my mom.

And to all the Angel parents and BLM, I will be thinking of all of you tomorrow.  Here is a song for all of our children that have went before us.  If only they could have lived.  Never mind 100 years

It's almost time

I haven't written in a while, I always want to but then I am to tired or busy or it's to late, but I am dreading this coming week.  It's when my house closes and the new people move in.  There are so many emotions going through me, knowing that someone else and their baby are going to move in to my house, the house that my sweet baby boy Zachery lived his short 2 yrs of his life in.  I really don't know how I am going to do this, but I will write more later as the day approaches -- and not only that but his anniversary of his death is 10 days later.