New Year, New Challenges

Well the new year is upon us and to be honest I have mix feelings. As many people would expect, I'm more then happy to start a new year. Leaving behind the sour taste 2014 left in my mouth. But at the same time I'm fearing what a new year means.

I currently have a scripted line I like to say to people when I'm asked how many children I have. It usually goes something like this...

"I have two kids. My daughter Cali is almost four and my son Camden is no longer with us. He died in February at 6 months old." The usual response to this is "Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry. That was only a few months ago." Now that 2015 is here, it's no longer "He died in February." It's now "He died last year." This probably sounds like an insignificant change to most of you but to me it's a momentous change that has serious implications. This now means Camden's death is getting further and further away. To new people in our lives, this will be only something of our past. It will seem more and more insignificant to people who don't know our story. And the real scary part is in 2016 it will be "He died two years ago." And in 2020 it will be "He died 6 years ago" and so on.

All of 2014 we were able to reminisce about how the previous year Camden was with us. This Christmas we could remember and smile about our memories with Camden last Christmas. But next year we won't be able to do that. His memories are getting further away and more foggy. Chad and I both cry often because we feel us forgetting him. We can't remember life with him. And that scares us down to the core. How can someone so important to us be that easy to forget?

Life really does go on, whether you want it to or not. Over the past year people have seemed amazed by our resilience after Camden's death. People have referred to us a strong and inspirational. The funny thing is, when we hear this all we want to do is laugh. People see as strong because we have picked up our lives and pushed through, even though the odds were against us. But the truth is, we are only "strong" because that was the only choice we had.

We had to get up every morning to take care of our other child. We had to smile and make the best of Christmas because Cali deserved it. We needed to get up and work to pay the bills. We kept moving forward because we had no other choice. Time keeps on moving and so must we. Our strength looks so mighty on the outside but inside we feel very weak.

Each month I get another negative pregnancy test, I just want to crawl in a hole and never come out. I want to yell and scream at every happy pregnant lady I see. I want to scrap the whole Facebook thing so I don't have to see another pregnancy announcement...Weak.

Every time Cali asks me why everyone else has a brother or sister and she doesn't I get so mad that I don't have an answer for her. When she keeps asking when will her friends brothers die because that's what happened to hers I feel so sad that she doesn't understand... Weak.

Chad has felt he has been good at putting on a happy face while at church and at work and not really expressing his true feelings...This has made him feel weak.

Every time someone says "just have faith in God, he has a plan for your life"...We want to believe them but we're not sure we do...Weak.

We feel so weak and so scared, all the time but somehow we keep trucking along. Just like time. Some would attribute that to God.

"Bad times have a scientific value. These are occasions a good learner would not miss."

Ralph Waldo Emerson