What Do You Do When Your Heart is Shattered

I just feel completely lost. I think I write these blogs not only to try to relate to people what I've been through and to offer my empathy to those who have been through it themselves, but also to sort out my thoughts so that somehow it might all make sense to me. The fact is, it doesn't, and it never will.

A couple of people who are close to me have made the observation that my self-esteem and self-worth are at rock bottom right now, and they are right. I don't feel like I have anything at all to wake up for most of the time. All I want to do is think about my boys and all of the plans I made for them . . .the things I bought for them . . .their nursery . . .and all of the dreams I had that will never come true. I feel like moving on is abandoning them and all of the hope and joy that I associated with them. I want those feelings back in my life, but without my children, I don't know how to get them.

I think it's also because, as a woman, I strongly felt the most basic natural instinct: to give life. I did that, but not successfully. I failed. Whether or not it was my "fault" doesn't matter. I can find no real reason why this happened, even though I have searched high and low. I just know I have failed. This leaves me at less than zero.

I don't want people's pity. I just want them to help me. I feel like I can't do this on my own. I have tried, believe me, but it's not working. All I can do is remember little Brian, his short, beautiful life . . .and how I thought it was his sacrifice that paved the way for Sawyer, his brother. I never once actually thought Sawyer wouldn't be here today. I hated to see him suffer, yet all through his struggle, I thought that he would "pull through" and start to get healthy. I truly believed I would be bringing home a happy, healthy little boy. I couldn't wait to tell him about his fight in the NICU, how strong he was, and how many times he surprised the strongest cynics. And yet, in the end, what was that struggle for?

I'm still left with questions, hoping that I always did what was the very best for my little boy. I hope I never put my own anguish first . . .my own fear and heartache over watching him struggle so hard.

I hate this. I am so angry, because I can't get it through my head that this actually happened . . .I can't accept it! So many people from all over the world were praying for that little boy, and he deserved a chance! Even his name . . .Sawyer. He had the best name we could give him. It represented all of his strength and fighting spirit. He had all the love any family could give. He captured the hearts of his nurses and doctors. And yet, here we are, over 2 months later, and he is gone. I will be left with questions and worries and fear and anger and doubt for the rest of my life. It will never go away.

The only hope I can find right now is this: if I fight, then I do so in honor of Sawyer. I know that he loves me. I know that he wants me to go on, to be happy one day, and to do it for him and for Brian.

Brian taught us how to love wholeheartedly, purely, and unselfishly. My love for all of the people I meet, for God, and for the beauty upon this earth come from my angel, Brian.

Sawyer taught us to fight and to never, ever give up. Even at the end of his struggle, he didn't want to give up . . .his little body could no longer tolerate the pain, and eventually began to shut down, one system at a time. I whispered in his ear that night that it was okay for him to let go . . .to drift to sleep. I told him that he had fought long enough and hard enough, and he didn't have to fight anymore. I told him the fight was over, and it was time to rest.

I will not rest until he whispers the same thing to me, and I wake to find myself next to him. I may not always be as strong as he was, but I will do my best to go on and lead a meaningful life. It's the least I can do in memory and honor of such a brave boy.

Made by Sonya, a friend on MySpace.