This won’t make any sense. Then again, it’s not supposed to.
April 13, 2009 | Filed under: Sucks like a vacuum, The year on the edge
“Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of a little water.” ~Antoine Rivarol
Oklahoma is my adopted home away from home. After I moved back to Albany and the joy of having the prodigal daughter’s return had worn off, my parents went back to saying things like, “Well, if you want food, you know where the kitchen is.” So later that year I found that Oklahoma City was like being at home. I had my friends and my faux-family to go to whenever I needed respite from the very hard life I was leading of cross-country hotel hopping.
In September I went for Susan’s book signing and while she and Wade went out with the boys I asked if I could have Shana over to play. That was the day that I went to Sonic twice, drank GSM like it was my job and we discussed baby names for Shana’s impending arrival. That was also the night that Susan and I stayed up until 2AM discussing Didacticism and the following morning I went home with the feeling that I used to to get when leaving Albany: That one always needs to have that bit of respite with their family just for hugs and some love.
I’m pausing right now because my train of thought is gone. Those words that usually come out so naturally have slammed into a brickwall because when the unfathomable happens. You want to speak but can’t. Everything comes out of your brain at once as it tries to comprehend everything. Instead of compartmentalizing death and parenting in such a way that never the two shall meet, my brain is currently in FAIL mode because the two should not meet and yet here we are again.
Shana’s baby boy Thalon; the same baby boy I held in January while his older sister kept petting his head saying, “He’s so cute!”. The same baby boy whose head I sniffed and whose face I stared just a few short months ago is now gone.
There is so much more I want to say right now. All of the things that I can suddenly say on the phone but to write anything right now would be trite. I will leave you with this though: Last week my mother and I got into a HUGE fight. One of those fights where I was hurt and angry because of something she had done and then she spent days worrying so much and out of anger I told her to leave me alone. I yelled. I swore and I avoided her. Meanwhile she worried and I thought well, I’m an adult and she needs to stay out of it. Here’s another lesson learned: Once you become a parent that doesn’t stop. That worry and that cliched bit about having your heart walking around outside of your body never fucking ends. Your children become your world and for every sting they have you feel it times ten.
After the last two weeks I keep shaking my head because babies should never die. It’s not right and it’s the most fucked up thing I have ever heard. And yet it keeps happening and all I want to do is sit here in my pajama pants and wonder why?
None of the above makes any sense. And I don’t even care. I’m just torn up on the inside and questioning how parents do it. How do you spend the rest of your life constantly worrying that in any minute your heart might break into a million pieces?
None of the above makes sense because it shouldn’t. It – the death of a child – shouldn’t happen but it does.
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Sarah put up a paypal account for Shana and her family. So head over there if you can.
stephanie says:
I have never met either Shana or Heather or their beautiful babies, and I am not a mother, yet all I’ve wanted to do the past few days is close the computer, walk away from the internet, and pretend none of this has happened. But I can’t, because they can’t. And it isn’t fair and it shouldn’t happen and I am heartbroken for them.
Kristabella says:
Babies should never die. It’s just so heartbreaking. And my thoughts and prayers go out to Shana and her family because I just can’t imagine what it is like.
amy says:
Oh this is such a sad thing to hear about. It is devastating. I am so sorry to hear this. Love to you and prayers right now to them. xo
TUWABVB says:
I’ve been thinking similar thoughts today – the past week has made parenthood seems like such a risk to me. You put your heart out there 500% and there’s a small chance that it might be destroyed.
tutugirl1345 says:
It breaks my heart and I didn’t even know Thalon. This week has been so cruel, its awful.
Sue @ My Party of 6 says:
Well said. I am just without words. I can’t think about it and can’t stop thinking about it. I just want to scream, What kind of a God lets this happen?
Momo Fali says:
Tears, Heather. Just lots and lots of tears…and I am fucking sick of crying them. I don’t know these women, but in what way are they different than me? It’s enough to make me lock up the house and never let my children leave.
Chicky Chicky Baby says:
Even with these babies dying, I was able to keep it together today. But then you mentioned the whole head smelling thing and that’s what finally put me over the edge. Now there are tears. I think I needed that.
whoorl says:
Pretty much NOT LIKING this month. (Thank you for spreading the word about Thalon’s account.) xo
Kerri Anne says:
You’re so right about none of this making a damn bit of sense, and that’s the awful and horrifying part. I don’t know how parents do it either. I’m still finding it hard to breathe today and I have no babies of my own to fear losing. Group hugs. The bear kind.
Sarah @ BecomingSarah.com says:
I’ve never met Shana, but oh, my heart goes out to her. I wish I could take away the nightmare her family is living right now, I wish I could make it okay. I hope she knows how many people are hoping and wishing and praying for her and for her family and, of course, for her beautiful son.