Surviving Survivor Guilt

 The stage I’m in is officially survivor guilt I think. It might be worse than the angry stage I went through.  It physically hurts to be here in time without my baby. 

I have never in my adult life had any kind of freedom to be able to do regular things. It always involved me finding someone for David. Before his dad moved away, it was him. After that…sometimes Kyle. Sometimes my personal support worker. But it always involved ME making arrangements. Sending texts. Making sure supplies and meds were ready. Making sure David was changed and happy and clean and ready. Again. I was good at those things. I arranged my entire life around a little boy who was the official boss of my life. And I miss it. A lot. 

It started with one day me walking out the door free as a bird to just put my shoes on. And leave. I was driving to work. I had a full blown panic attack about half way there and had to pull over. I didn’t know what set me off. 

Moe and I made travel plans for this summer just recently for my sister’s birthday celebration. I didn’t have to look at a calendar. I didn’t have to beggggg for help to keep David. I just said “yes”  to the trip and the days. 

This last weekend I got up at 3am. Took the puppy out. And left my house for an entire 3 day weekend to celebrate my mom’s birthday in South Carolina. 

I’ve been working in his room. So slowly but a little at a time. I’m not really doing much in there, but trying to clean it up. I finally took his ornaments off of his tree and sobbed. His tree isn’t down yet. I’ll get there though. Today Onyx, our new puppy went in there and dug a hat out from under his bed and started chewing on it. Clearly David had already done a number on it in that department. And it was cute that Onyx had it and liked a piece of David.  

But ALLLLLL of those things. I feel incredibly guilty about it all. I think back to that day in my car on my way to work. I wish I still had to change him and give an update about him to his PSW before I walked out the door to work. I was extremely careful when I had to be mindful of how many hours I was gone a day to be able to have enough money to pay David’s PSW. I don’t have to do that now. 

Making plans to travel for a week without checking with his dad to see if he could help me is unheard of.  It took a ton of behind the scenes work to be able to leave David with anyone else but me for an entire week. SO much work. 

When I was in SC this weekend. I felt bad for having fun. And I had so much fun with my mom and sisters and mom’s friend. But the entire time, I was thinking I shouldn’t be able to have this much fun. My son died. I should stay sad all the time. It is extremely surreal that I didn’t have to call and check on him daily. 

I feel guilty about getting a puppy. While he’s distracted me immensely, he wasn’t meant to replace David. I feel badly that we didn’t get him when David was still alive. We had always talked about getting him a puppy to watch over him. I wish David had got to meet him. 

The guilt is strong. And I THINK it’s normal from what I read. My grief has been a little different through the stages than what is written. And it’s because I was so entwined in David. And he was entwined with me. And I loved him and still love him so so very much. I miss him. I wish he was here. I wish I still had to make my life revolve around him. 

I am trying to enjoy my days. He’s in my heart for sure. Sometimes I am happy though. And I’m trying to get through the horrible guilt of that. It’s always there. 

So for any other grieving mothers. I feel you deep in my soul. I feel you deep in my heart. I feel you deep in my mind. I don’t care if it’s new or if it’s old. No parent should have to say goodbye to a son or daughter ever. It’s not natural. And it’s so hard. 

But we can be ok. Even when we feel guilty….we can still be happy sometimes. I wish it didn’t feel like a crime. Because it’s not a crime to keep living. We will miss them forever but we have to keep living to keep their memories alive and be able to relive those happy memories. 

That’s it for today. Random ramblings about guilt. It stinks to feel guilty about something you’re not guilty of. 

5 Weeks and 2 Days

 

The title says it all . And yes. I’m counting. 

Grief is something I’ve been in the midst of since my dad passed away. And I kind of want to document it a little bit. If I can help someone else in the future, then maybe it’s worth it. And writing has always been calming for me. 

I’m still sad. Extremely sad. If you haven’t lost a child, honestly what you imagine it’s like…multiply it by a million. 

I said I don’t know how to live life without him and I still don’t. The nights are my worst times. My poor husband has seen multiple sides of my grief now. And I feel like a burden, but he assures me I’m not. I feel like people think I should be “moving on” now that the services are over. But I’m not moving on yet. Although I have donated his incontinence supplies and have someone in mind to give his push chair to as well as feeding supplies. That makes me feel better to be helping others because of him. I haven’t touched much of his room. I’m not afraid to go in there, but I find having the door closed makes it a little more bearable. And that’s ok. 

I cry a lot. But not all the time. But definitely at random times. I laugh though too and I am going through the motions of living my life but I feel like a shell of myself at times. While other times I feel normal. My anxiety is bad in crowds who aren’t my people. But I’m still going out with Moe. He is my safe person. And I feel bad he has to be that person for what can only be for the rest of our lives now. But that’s ok too. 

I worry about Kyle. He is doing well but I know he misses his brother. I send him memories on Snapchat of the two of them and I see him save them in his chat with me. But I want to coddle him and take care of him. And he’s 18. I tried to feel his forehead for a literal cold the other day and he had to remind me he is an adult. I don’t know how to not take care of someone yet. But taking care of myself seems really hard. That’s still ok. 

I am sad because I lost my child. He may have been an adult but he was my child. Just a baby in my eyes and many other people’s eyes. I had to make a decision that no one should have to make for their child, although David gave me enough of a sign that he didn’t want the quality of life his body would be left with after his long stay in the hospital. But I hated making that choice. And it’s ok that I felt/still feel that way. 

I miss him. So much that my heart can burst. But the fact is that it’s already shattered and I don’t know if it’s possible for those shattered pieces to burst any further. I actually still crave being able to hold him. But at the same time I’m not actually looking for him anymore. I know he’s not here. And that’s ok. 

The holidays are coming up. I am all over the place. I knew it would be different long before David passed away. Our family will be split for the first time ever at Christmas (except when I lived out of the country for a few years) and we are trying to make new traditions. I didn’t realize I would have to make those new traditions without David as well as my dad. And that’s super hard. I’m going to do it, but I might need some moments to myself while making new memories. 

I’m sad, but mad too. I’m sad and mad that he only had one Thanksgiving and one Christmas in our new home. I’m mad and sad when I go to a store and force myself to not look at baby toys for different things that I can put up that he would have liked (and I looked all year long because it was so rare to stumble on something new that he didn’t have).  And I think that’s ok that I feel that too. 

I’m putting a Christmas tree up in his room this year. Only with his ornaments, but I did ask each of my family to choose an ornament that makes them think of David to hang on the tree and we will decorate it at Thanksgiving this year. That way I can go in and see his ornaments from past years at a glance and remember those memories if I choose to. Will I do the same thing next year? I think so, but I won’t make any promises. And I don’t have to make promises. 

Again. Grief is more than a roller coaster. And it’s different for everyone. And I am so sad. But you might still see me smiling and laughing. But the hurt is still there. It’s not going to go away. It’s unfair. And I wasn’t immune to losing a child. No one is. I wish I could change that so no one ever has to feel this pain. 

With so many asking the only question they know how to ask me…”How are YOU?”, I just want to say…I’m ok. But I’m not actually OK. And that’s totally ok.

Many thanks to the ones who reach out daily. Every other day. Weekly. Once. It’s ok. I don’t know what to say to myself and you don’t have to know either. And that’s ok.

Dad

 

I read a eulogy today at my dad’s celebration of life. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. For those who couldn’t be there, this is what I read. 

Dad

I have written this and changed it and let very few friends read it and changed it again. Only to rewrite it in its entirety. 

Let me tell you the definition of the word integrity from the dictionary. “The quality of being honest and having strong moral principles that you refuse to change” 

Now let me tell you the definition of integrity in my eyes. It would be Jack Millan. My dad. My hero. He was exactly the same definition of integrity from the dictionary in human form. When we were young we saw him work so hard, but with such strong morals and ethics, I honestly didn’t know some people don’t have those qualities. If you want something-you work for it. You don’t take a shortcut, you don’t cut other people down to get it. You EARN it. 

We didn’t always have a lot when we were younger. But I remember strong family values. We spent a lot of time with mom, but dad was working and when he was home, I remember steamroller, timber, bribes of a quarter to rub his feet and back, chocolate malts, the best omelettes, werewolf lane, failed ice skating rinks,sharing sorrentos cheese and sausage pizzas, and getting us a pool (probably his attempt to keep us outside while he was working from home). 

He was protective of us. Not in a crazy way but in the best fatherly way. Requesting me to be home from a first date on New Year’s Eve at 11:15 one time. Keeping a bat under his bed to scare off Mandy’s late night window tapping visitors (ok-that only happened once that he knew of. Only Mandy knows how many times that really happened)….and then in adulthood…..still protective of us right til the end. He told his nurse he wanted us to be ok. So we’re going to do the hard thing and be ok. 

Sometimes you don’t realize the importance of a simple moment until after the fact. I had a moment like that with my dad more recently. 

I got remarried in June of 2023. And there was a moment now that just sticks out to me leading up to that huge step in my life. 

On Memorial Day weekend my dad asked what we were dancing to for the Father/Daughter dance. 

My response was the we had already danced in 1997 at my first wedding.

(Backstory-we had been joking for the year before the wedding that this was not my first marriage and I just kinda thought he didn’t wanna do the traditional stuff.) 

Dad very quickly said he thought we should have a dance. 

I didn’t know at that time that he was sick yet. 

I poured over songs to have our dance to. I didn’t want any traditional father daughter dance song. I finally settled on one that I thought was fitting.

During that Father/Daughter Dance, 

I cried. More than I wanted. By then we knew he was sick. I got a LOT of words of wisdom in those 3 minutes and 35 seconds. He approved of my new husband. He joked-I think-that Moe was contractually binded to me and there was a no return policy. He told me he was proud of me. That I was a good mom to the boys. And in all the times that I know I disappointed him, I knew in that moment he knew that I learned something from each and every time that happened. 

So a word of advice. Dance with your dad. 

He loved us. He took care of us. And he showed us that until the end of his time. 

If you’ve learned anything from Jack Millan, let it be these 3 things-

Be proud, yet humble

Be kind, but have boundaries 

And have a giving heart.  Perhaps not with money, but with your time. 

So Dad-in a throwback to our wedding dance and some words of James Taylor-how very very sweet it was to be loved by you. 

24 in '24

 I've taken a long break from this blog. I have enjoyed my privacy and my boys' privacy is important to me. 

But something drew me back in this year to post for David's birthday and I'm still not sure what that something is. I've skipped a year of birthdays for both boys and I don't think you'll see me do another one for Kyle again....his wants and needs are more important to me than my own and while I'm very proud of him, he doesn't need a lot of recognition for him to feel fulfilled and that humbles me a lot. 

But my oldest baby turns 24 today!!!! And I cannot believe I've been his mom (or a mom in general) for that long! We grew up together. He is my sunshine and my moonlight. My swedish fish and my peanut butter cups. And a giant bowl of ice cream with whipped cream and a cherry on top!

Life drastically changed for us in the last 5 years. From separation through divorce through building a new home, a new marriage, and a new family......David has always been my constant. 

You know, it's our job to see our typical children from infanthood to adulthood and through those many changes that come along with that. I am very proud to have seen Kyle through all of that. But change is hard for me. So hard. 

David has changed through the years of course.....but it was always such a slow change and we did it together. When he is happy, I know what to expect. When he is sad, I know what to do. When he is sick, I know how to handle that. He is my consistent in my ever changing life and I am so grateful to him for grounding me and teaching me to be an entire different human than I thought I would become as an adult. I have so much more empathy for other people who are struggling because of him. I have so much more appreciation for simple things like sitting up or finding something in a laundry basket filled with toys because he still does it, and watching him, I know it's SO hard for him to do.  I can adapt to things not going my way because even though he's consistent, there is always a little tweak in his life that needs tended to. I am stronger for learning to care for him. Mentally and physically (although not exaclty in shape lol). I have a grand understanding of insurances (private and medicaid). I understand workings of specialists and nurses and hospital settings and dr's settings and convenient care settings. I understand all types of X-rays and ultrasounds and yet I still know there is so much more to learn in all these areas. I know how to make medications daily and make sure they're drawn with enough time to soften to make their way through the gtube. I employ a person to help care for him and am capable of showing someone how to do that. 

Long story short.....David is a Waymaker. He helped me build and pave a path for his progress. And in his progress, I have figured out who I am and my progress as an ever-changing adult. He is joy and light and the definition of a trooper who does hard things. I could not have asked God for a better first born son than what I received. 

Happy Birthday David Webb. "If you're good, then I'm good. We're all good. We support each other like that. Nuff said." -Author Unknown

KMW is 16

We've had a roller coaster of a year and Kyle turns 16 on May 9th to top it off!

He is as amazing as he is stubborn.

He is as typical a teen as he is completely unique. 

He is as happy as he is moody. 

He is as helpful as he is argumentative. 

I don't have a ton of words to say because he likes his privacy. But I told him until he's 18, he has to grant me this ONE time a year to have my sappy feelings noted in this blog that I've been doing forever now. 

He is David's bestest friend in the world. Hands down. He religiously takes him to the bus every single morning while I finish getting ready for work. 

He learned how to lift him this year and he can put him in bed. He asked to learn how and I am forever so grateful for that extra help. 

He changed his first dirty diaper this year and I literally cried with laughter as he texted me ever so dramatically while completing the task. 

He is so excited for his next chapter in life and I'm so excited to watch him grow. 

Sixteen is scary for a mama. But I reread the post I made for David's 16th birthday and because of Kyle, I get to live out the things I've missed out on with David and while scary, it's exciting and fun and I am forever happy to have him as my son. 

Happy 16th Kyle Matthew!! I love you!!!!

22

 

I was a baby when I had my baby. 

Literally. 21 years old and having a baby in a foreign country, trying to determine what they were trying to offer me for lunch in the hospital. The German nurses would come in and say "Mrs Watkins...your baby....wawawawawa" to let me know he was fussy in my 4 day stay with him there. 

And that was the beginning of our journey. 

David Webb. We grew together. We evolved together. We fought together. You taught me way more than I taught you. Because let's face it. You do what you want when you want. You do you of your own free will. If you don't want to be happy. You're not. If you want to cry. You do. If you want to be awake in the middle of the night.....you certainly do that with gusto. 

I quite honestly don't know who'd I'd be if I didn't give birth to you. I would be a shell with something missing, but not being able to pinpoint it. I could have a million "regular" kids and think I was fulfilled, but you'd be the secret that was missing from my life. 

You are officially older than I was when I had you. That's mind boggling to me. To think if you were typical, you could have been having your own children by now. (Although I would have encouraged you to wait a lot longer than I did!) 

You should be finishing college. Or working in a trade. Dating or married. Moved out and moved on from living with me. Except you're not. Because you're supposed to be WITH me for as long as I'm allowed to have you. Because without you, I'm not me. 

Some mothers would still be mourning all those things you're "supposed" to be doing. I suppose I did that for a long time. I'm not anymore. The son I thought about all through my pregnancy with you was just a fantasy for me. You are my reality. 

You belong to a lot of people in this world. So many people care about you. Teachers, classmates, your brother, parents, family, etc. I know you know it, but I don't know to what extent. It's massive amounts of people though. 

All I can say is thank you for teaching me how to grow up. And thank you for growing up with me. 

I love you David Webb. 22 looks good on you. 

If You Wanna Know….

I’m going to be transparent. I LOVE Christmas. I love the lights, I love the joy, I love the giving, I love the family, I love the food, and yep…I kinda love receiving. 

I want to please everyone. I want everyone to be happy. I want it to be wonderful.

And cue David. Usually beginning with fall harvest, we begin to struggle with sickies and allergies that get bad. Like dr 3 times in 10 days bad. And moods and unknowns and just a bunch of other shit that I have no idea how to handle. It makes me tired and cranky and frustrated and wanna pull my hair out.

And what do you buy the boy who only plays with hats and mirrors? And won’t leave clothes on. And doesn’t understand a lick of WHY he has to be around extra people and out of his routine. He’s basically the opposite of me and is quite Grinchy. 

I am not the only mother of a special needs child that needs their routine, likes what they like, or struggles in the winter with illness. Sooo…kinda keep many of my friends in real life and virtual ones in your thoughts for the next few weeks. Our kids aren’t ok with this stuff. 

My mom ALWAYS made Christmas something to remember when we were kids. She’s always made it something special for us as adults. And for the grandkids. COVID changed everything last year and we didn’t have Christmas at my parents house last year. And this year we’ve had changes and the grandkids are getting older and while we’re going over there this year (YAY!!)….it’s going to be different.

My favorite day of the year will be great still. I will have my sisters and parents and nieces and nephews and in-law people and Moe. But I won’t have my kids this year for the first time in their entire lives and I’m sad about it. It’s reality and Kyle is older and their dad hasn’t had them for 2 years in a row because he’s been working and he totally deserves to have the boys and Kyle is excited. David will be David and I’m sure they’ll still have an amazing weekend and so will I. If this pandemic has taught me anything, it has been to adapt. We will be doing Christmas with the boys during the day on the 24th and they’ll be heading off to be with their dad that night and through the weekend. 

Learning to love this way of life is one of growth and determination for me. My boys have 2 parents who love them. Cheers to you and your loved ones and adapting to new things and celebrating the traditions that we also keep close to our hearts. 🎄❤️🎅🏻😍❤️

(Did I mention the food??? I love the Christmas food. I’m alllll about the Christmas food. It’s gonna be good food.)