One Month

I've been thinking about writing this post for the past week or so, knowing that Graham's one month "birthday" was coming up.  It has been a bit of a hard week passing and coming up to some milestones.  First off, if we would have had our way and Graham would have been completely healthy, we were planning on delivering Graham on leap day.  There were a lot of people who thought it was fun, and there were also a lot of people who thought it was a silly idea.  However, we really liked the idea of having a "special" birthday for this baby.  Little did we know that he was already special in his own way.  Also, today is not only one month since Graham was born and passed away, but it is also his original due date.

I've decided that I want to blog through this journey - the journey of finding out our new normal without a member of our family.  I posted on Caring Bridge (www.caringbridge.com/visit/grahamdugan) before Graham was born, but I mostly tried to keep it as impersonal as possible.  I tried to just give updates in the form of medical information and specific prayer requests.  Now, though, I want to have an outlet to be honest about how I'm feeling and how this grief journey is the hardest and strangest thing I have been on.

There are, of course, a ton of things that have been floating around in my mind since Graham passed away.  The thing that sticks out the most to me is how absolutely shocked I was about Graham's death.  We knew for four months how sick Graham was and what all the percentages were on his survival rate.  I knew it.  I thought about it constantly.  I cried so very hard about it.  And honestly, I had spent a good amount of time thinking about what life would look like if Graham passed away, how the memorial service would go, what we would do with his body.  Yet, when the NICU doctors walked into the room with the look in their eyes that said he wasn't going to make it, I was in an absolute state of shock.  How in the world was this really happening to me?  This happens to other people.  I read about it on other people's blogs and am so touched and sad about it, but this cannot be my life.  I really thought that I had no hope for Graham's survival, but looking back now, I realize that I did.  I didn't set up Graham's room and I didn't pull out clothes for him.  But when they pulled Graham out of me and rushed him to the resucitation room, I could only have hope.  Looking back now, I am glad that I did.  I am glad that, in the end, I believed that God could perform a miracle.  Many people, including myself, say that He still did.  And I believe that.  But I knew that my God was big enough to make Graham healthy enough to survive in this world.  And for that I am thankful.

After my initial shock and denial wore off (and that lasted at least a week), I am finding myself turn more towards anger.  I am angry about the whole situation.  I am angry that one blocked ureter can cause so many problems.  It's just peeing, for goodness sakes!  How in the world can the inability to pee take an innocent baby's life?  I'm angry that I didn't get to hear Graham's cry, that I didn't get to go upstairs in the NICU and see Graham moving around, that I didn't get to hold him and look into his eyes at the same time.  I'm angry that I had to deal with the physical pain of my milk coming in.  I was taking pain medicine for that more than the pain of the incision.  I'm angry that we received his death certificate before we recieved his birth certificate.  I'm angry that I now have an insurance card with his name on it in my wallet.  I'm angry that we paid a lot of money in medical bills for surgeries, procedures, and doctor appointments that, in the end, were unable to save my son's life.  I'm angry that Parker doesn't get to be a big brother in the "normal" sense.  He absolutely loves babies, and yet only got to hold Graham for a couple of minutes.  I'm angry that I've seen several people who know what happened to us, yet choose to say nothing.  It's like Graham's death is the big elephant in the room and no one wants to mention it.  But I do!  I want to talk about Graham so badly. 

I'm sure the previous paragraph just scared some of you.  Please don't think I've jumped off the deep end, or that I'm now a constantly angry and bitter person.  I just realize even more how very unfair this world is.  And it makes me long for heaven so much more.  

OK, I've shared a lot more than I thought I would, yet there is so much more to say.  But this is probably a good snapshot of where we are at in our grief journey right now.  I've been told by people who have walked a similar path that our journey will be long.  We will see so many stages of grief that we can't even keep up.  And it will seem like we are doing better, and then be set off by something else.  I can already see a small snapshot of that in this past month - there are days when I'm OK and days that I am far from it.  But the best part is that, not for one day, have I felt alone.  Even when I feel like no one else here on this earth understands, I have received much comfort from my heavenly Father who I know understands completely, and is beside me grieving as well.