I'm angry, and this is my vent session.

I had guessed that maybe some people say mean things about us. I thought maybe people think I'm a bad mother,  that Will and I are screw-ups for not getting our children swim lessons, etc. Tonight I was informed by a coworker of some things she has heard. She detailed for me an account of a parent complaining that Eli died because the necessary precautions weren't in place. That if we had done a better job as parents, our son would be alive. She explained all this after letting me know her little boy just celebrated his second birthday. And she said, "Wasn't it pretty soon after his birthday...?" Yeah. He died 2 weeks later.

Our lives have always been insanely busy. Maybe its our fault for doing too much.
We closed on our house April 11th and moved in that week. We were both working full time, I on nights and Will 1:30 to midnight. We had a pool gate and doors with deadbolts that locked from either side, with keys. The pool enclosure doors had push handles that were at the top. Everything seemed safe. We didn't account for my human error combined with a clever 2 year old.

Eli died almost exactly two MONTHS later. We moved,  had a party for his birthday...and he died. We didn't have a lot of time to do anything. I spent every moment with the boys that I could. If I wasn't working, we were feeding ducks, or at the park, or at the library reading Mickey Mouse books, doing puzzles and coloring.

I know I failed as mother. I made the hugest mistake of my life. I left the gate open, Will didn't think to check it, Eli got out of bed before us in the early morning, figured out how to turn the key in the lock (which he had never been able to do before that day) and died before we had a chance to rescue him. I begged God to take me instead. I begged God to save him. I would have given ANYTHING to save my little boy.

  Can you point me to ANY parent who has never made a mistake with their children?  Have you ever experienced a close call? You found your child outside, or they fell off a bed as a baby, or something potentially dangerous? Do you use your car seats properly? Are your children rear facing until 2? I failed by not signing my kids up for swim lessons, yep. We were planning on putting it into the budget. Just the DAY BEFORE he died, I was looking into signing them up. I didn't have a chance! I'm glad that people who have had close calls have had only close calls. I'm glad that you haven't experienced this sorrow and grief. But no mother or father is perfect.

I'm deeply saddened by the things I heard tonight. That EMS personnel responding to the scene said Eli had obviously been dead for a while, because he was so filled with fluid. That Will was screaming at me, "How could you leave the gate open?"

Let me clarify something. My husband is a wonderful person, and has never once blamed me for Eli's death. He certainly never yelled at me. He has hugged me, cried with me, rubbed my back while I cried, held my hand...but he has never screamed at me.

I don't honestly know how smart it is to tell a grieving mother that her son was long-dead and filled with fluid. I know these things. I don't need to hear it. These thoughts already torment me relentlessly.

So tonight at work, minutes after this conversation, I had a panic attack. I vomited into a trash can, urinated on myself and spent a large amount of time sobbing and hyperventilating on the bathroom floor. I can honestly say, this is the worst night I have had in a long time.

If you think I'm a screw-up, I'm so sorry that you don't understand. That you are perfect, that you have never made a parenting error. I don't need anyone else punishing me with accusations. I know how to do that to myself just fine!

If you have the opportunity to interact with a parent who has lost a child, please choose your words wisely. There are some things better left unsaid. Perhaps talking about your two year old's birthday to a woman who just lost her two year old...is probably not a good idea.

And please don't make things up for the drama. My life is miserable enough right now without feeling the need to discount rumors.

Rant over.

Questions

I often wonder what it was like for him. Did he struggle? Was he afraid? Did he wonder why mommy wasn't saving him? Did he just pass out or did he have chest pain? I've heard people say they almost drowned and felt like their chest was exploding and they saw stars. Did my baby experience that? If he did, what would be the purpose? Couldn't God have spared him from that miserable experience? Wouldn't He?

I wish, more than anything I've ever wished for in my entire life, that something could have been different. That I would have heard him fall in. That I could have grabbed him out, hugged him, and dried him off. Why did it have to be this way? Why is my little boy dead?

Sleep

I cannot sleep. Memories plague my mind. It's a spiral- thoughts of his infectious giggle, my cheek against his face, his sparking hazel eyes gazing up at me in adoration...these thoughts turn to heartbreaking images of his body floating in the pool, his hair dripping wet, his cheeks pale, lips blue. His tiny white teeth gleaming back at me as I open his mouth to give him breaths. Tiny purple bruises appearing on his cheeks as his tiny belly sloshes while I compress his chest. The happy memories are easily replaced by ones that stab, burn, twist and ache. It is pure misery to remember my beloved son in this way. No amount of prayer or desire has been able to remove these thoughts from my mind. I feel like I am being punished.

If only I could see him again. I would kiss him endlessly. I would tell him how much I've missed him and love him. I would ask him if he loves Heaven.

When you love someone with every fiber of your heart,  mind, and soul, it does something to you in your entirety when they die. It tears those three parts to pieces. It is nearly impossible to put them all back together again. Imagine a vase that is worth millions. You drop it. It shatters. How do you go about putting it back together? Could you find every piece? Would it maintain its value?  I lost many pieces of myself when my Elijah left me. I feel as though I lost my value as a wife and a mother...and as a woman. I dropped the vase. I did. That sense of failure returns over and over, and permeates every bit of me that I have managed to sloppily push back together.

Wounds like these are hard to mend. Longing accompanies regret. Physical pain accompanies sorrow. Just when I think it is getting better....I'm sucked back into a pit of despair. I long for relief. Will I ever heal? Will I ever sleep? Will I ever have peace?

I pray, I weep, I pray, and I weep. It is all I know how to do anymore.

The process of grief

Apparently there are 5 stages of grief. I've thought about them a lot since Eli passed, wondering where I'm at, how I measure up. Denial, the first stage, was huge for me. For the first month or more, I woke up each morning and realized he was dead,  and it crushed me like ten tons of rocks piled on my chest. The only way I could function was by going through the motions. Thinking about him or looking at pictures and videos was like allowing my heart to be sawed through slowly. The ripping feeling in my chest was unlike any other I've ever felt in my life.

I also have done a lot of bargaining. I would think this means I asked for God to take me instead of him. I did that too. But the stage of Bargaining includes the "what ifs." What if I hadn't taken them swimming that Friday evening?  What if Will had been off work that night? What if I had been AT work? These thoughts are debilitating, and yet for me,  completely necessary. I have to think through everything. It is like things are in boxes, and I have to go through every single one. If one is unsorted, I won't be able to find closure.

The stage of anger was an interesting one. I never really felt angry with God. I still wonder, "why?"  I truly and totally believe my boy's life was in God's hands, and it was Eli's time and place to go. It wasn't an accident. It was the will of God. Why? Well, I have some ideas but I'm not God so I don't know for sure. So, this stage of anger was comprised of anger toward myself, not God. And it was before I discovered his death was truly part of God's plan. Somehow,  I've forgiven myself. I did my very best as a mother. Eli knew I loved him,  even in our final moments together,  singing and playing before falling asleep. I loved him more than I even imagined was possible,  and my death will be a joyous one, because no matter what suffering I face, I won't be afraid. I'm looking forward to seeing my boy again. And I'm looking forward to meeting my Lord.

I teeter between the stages of depression and acceptance now. Sometimes I have a day where I just sob uncontrollably and talk to him. It hurts to hear Ben squealing outside with his daddy, because he sounds just like Eli,  and for a moment, I forget he's gone.  But most days,  I accept he is not here right now.  He is somewhere else,  somewhere beautiful,  waiting for me. I picture the excitement and joy on his face when he sees me again! Most days, I can function pretty well. I can go to Toys R Us and pick up toys he loved or would love. I can think, "Eli would have a blast with this!" I laugh at memories Will and I share about what a goofball he was. I miss him, but I know I'll see him again. And part of him still lives on in my heart somehow. I can still sense he exists, even if it isn't here.

I know I'm not out of the woods, I know I will have bad days and good days. I know holidays will be tough.  But Eli would want me to live. He would want me to help others, to love his siblings,  to bring others to know the love and salvation of Jesus. So I will do those things to the best of my ability. I will live for them now, God and Eli, and I will see them when this fragile, fleeting life is over. I never knew I could experience such joy after such sorrow!