Permanently Wrong

From my journal dated June 29, 2002:

Today is Eric’s 23rd birthday. I mentioned to him the other day that he was turning 23, and that I was 23 when he was born. I said that I’d invested half my life into my kids. He asked if it was all I had hoped for. Such a strange question – caught me off guard. I told him that there is too much loss and too much pain in my life to really tell right now.

I hope Eric has a good day and feels special. I hope he feels loved. We are having dinner with him tonight, got some presents, giving him some money for his trip to Colorado with his friend Jon.

I remember we were having a heat wave in California the year he was born. It was well into the 100’s every day. We lived in a little three bedroom house with no air conditioning at the time. The doctor had put me on bed rest the five weeks before he was due because my blood pressure was high, and she was worried about toxemia. We would open up all of the windows at night to let the cool air in and then close the windows and drapes once it was morning to keep the hot air out. By noon it was as hot inside as out, so we’d just open everything up again and turn on the fans.

I went to the doctor the week before Eric was due, and she told me it would be at least a week, maybe even more than that since this was my first pregnancy. I remember crying on my way home, asking God to have mercy. I was so tired of being pregnant, uncomfortable, and hot!

Well, I went into labor the next morning. I remember the hospital felt so wonderfully cool! Eric ended up being a C-section because the cord was wrapped around his shoulder. He was a beautiful, perfect baby – 7 lbs., 11 1/2 oz. Beautiful baby. Because I had rested so much before he was born, I was up and about really quickly.

It seems like just yesterday. I wish I could go back to that time and live those days over again. I would make some changes, do things differently. Better.

One thing I would not do differently is homeschool my  kids. I’d do a better job of it, make it more fun, I think. I’d appreciate every minute of them being in the house. I think I’d volunteer a little less…some of it took too much time away from them.

If I could just have that time back. If I could just have my precious Jason back. What a fun little guy he was. So precious.

Everything is so out of whack without Jason here to be a part of it. It’s like something is always wrong. Something is always missing. Something is always out of sync, off kilter. I’m still waiting for Jason to come home.

Even when the kids were gone to a friend’s house for a sleepover or to camp or whatever, it just seemed like something wasn’t quite right, that something was missing. We weren’t complete without them.

And now this is permanent. Permanently wrong. Permanently missing. Permanently out of sync. Permanently out of whack, off kilter. This is permanent.

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This entry was posted in Bereaved Parent, Birthdays, Death of a child, Family, What's Important and tagged by Rebecca Carney - One Woman's Perspective. Bookmark the permalink.

About Rebecca Carney - One Woman's Perspective

My name is Becky Carney. My husband, Joe, and I have been married for 40 years. We have two living children, Eric (37) and Jenna (32). We lost a baby in utero at 19 weeks in 1987. In 2002, our middle son, Jason (19), and his best friend, Alina (20), were broadsided by a drunk driver who was going at least twice the speed limit. They both died instantly. This blog is written from my perspective as a bereaved parent. I don't claim to know what it's like to walk in anyone else's shoes. Each situation is different; each person is different. Everyone handles grief differently. But if I can create any degree of understanding of what it's like to be a parent who has lost a child, then I have succeeded in my reason for writing this blog.

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