My Dear Sweet Turner,
Today marks 13 weeks since our last perfect day together. 91 days since I last felt you happily kicking me and being so excited to know you would arrive anyday. This past week has been hard. Your Dad left on the 16th for a 5 month deployment. Saying goodbye to him was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do since you passed away. It was as if a piece of my heart left with him and got on that plane. I’ve been trying to focus and stay busy, but last Saturday and Sunday were hard. I didn’t do anything. I stayed in bed most of the day and cuddled up with your brothers and sisters while watching movies.
Father’s Day was this past Sunday and it was rough. Rough on the kids and rough on me. Celebrating Father’s Day and Mother’s Day just isn’t the same. I couldn’t go to church. I couldn’t go there and see all the families with their intact families. I just couldn’t muster up enough strength to do it. I wish I was stronger. I wish I had more courage and faith to have been able to go, but I just couldn’t.
Sundays are my hardest day of the week. Not because of church, but because of being in a crowd of people who know about your death. Many people at church have yet to say anything to me in person, and not because of their lack of trying, but because of me wanting to avoid them. I have created this security bubble in order to protect my heart from being damaged any more. I have panic attacks and they come out of no where. If I hear a baby cry it immediately sets me back to seeing your perfect beautiful face and you literally looking like you were just sleeping peacefully. I then realize in that moment of hearing another baby cry that I never heard YOUR cry. Seeing all my friends with their children here on this earth makes it hard knowing I’ll never have what they have.
Ive always enjoyed being in social situations and I considered myself a people person before your death. Since you passed away social situations now make me anxious as I don’t know what people are going to say or do. It’s so unpredictable and that kind of environment makes me feel very vulnerable. Oh how I wish I were stronger my sweet boy. But I’m just not.
Today I was sitting amongst a group of people and was completely surrounded, but yet I felt completely alone. I feel like that most days. It’s a strange feeling being in a crowd of people and yet feel very much alone. I looked down at my hands and arms and realized that they felt so empty. They felt useless. Absolutely useless. Knowing that you should be in my arms everywhere I go and you should be completely dependent on me for all your needs is a hard thing to deal with. My body still aches to feel you near, to hold you, and to love you. I don’t know if that ache will ever go away. In a way, I hope that feeling stays forever as that means you lived and are my baby.
Tonight while at your grave Reagan sat with me for a long while. She is having a hard time. She wants to talk about you to her friends but she keeps saying, “Mom, no one understands just how much pain I have because they haven’t lost a sibling”. I completely understood. I like telling people to try and imagine how badly your pain would be if you lost one of your children. Now multiply that pain by a million and you’re getting close to what it might feel like, but it doesn’t even scratch the surface of what this pain feels like.
She also asked me why God took you away from us. I had to gently remind her that God doesn’t “take away” people, but rather the mission they were here to complete was done and they just didn’t need to be here on this earth any longer. I had to explain to her that everyone comes to earth to gain a physical body for their spirit to dwell in. That everyone who has ever lived will also die and sometimes people die at a very young age. Turner had already gained his physical body and he passed away much younger than most people, but the two most important things he was sent here to do had been fulfilled. He gained a physical body which in turn means he lived, and because he lived he also had to die just as everyone on earth must do. For some reason Turner completed his mission here on this earth much quicker than the rest of us. I explained that life sometimes deals you a crappy hand and it is rough. That we are dealing with the worst thing a family can go through right now and life is just hard. I reminded her It’s ok to be mad, but don’t be mad at God. Don’t become bitter as it is so very easy to become bitter in our situation.
Turner, your sister loves you very much and I wish I could take away her pain. Her little soul is crushed, but I’m hoping through all of this it will help her build her own testimony of eternal life and the Plan of Salvation. She is also angry because she can’t feel you near her. I reassured her that you will always be near even when we don’t feel you near.
Turner, I miss you so badly. I sit her writing this and just 10 feet away from my bed is your cradle. It has always brought me comfort setting it up when I was pregnant with your siblings. It meant a baby would soon occupy that bed. Now it sits here 13 weeks after your birth and it’s as if it is mocking me, but yet I can’t bear to put it away. The thought of putting it away almost makes your death too real, as if that is possible. So I’d rather stare at it knowing you’ll never need it. I’d rather sit in the glider next to your cradle and cry wishing you were here with me. I’d rather stare at the cradle for the rest of my life than box it up and put it away.
I love you my dear sweet boy. I hope you visit me in my dreams really soon.
Love Always and Forever,