When It Rains

I read two other blogs on grief.  One, by Sherri Newman (http://thenewmans.blogspot.com/) chronicles life after loosing her son to SUDEP, the same condition Jeff died from.  I have met Sherri and I feel a bond with her.  I feel that Sherri and I share something, the shock and discovery of finding a loved-one lifeless.  I know what Sherri went through, she knows what I went through, we don't even have to talk about it.

I read her blog and I know she reads mine.  We talk periodically on the phone or through social media.  It is a relationship I know we would gladly part with if it meant our loved one was still alive, but instead we have this connection.  I will see Sherri again this weekend at the annual Joshua
Newman 5K 

http://www.events.org/newman5k/cpage.aspx?e=64967

Last year when I met Sherri at the 5K I was struck by how tall she was (as a tall woman myself, I am usually impressed to find another woman I have to look up at).  I was also surprised at how hard she hugged me and the first words she spoke to me "...because I know how we hate the word strong."  She was the first person to understand that and mentioned it first.  It has only served to solidify my internal connection to her.

I also read Anna's blog on the loss of her son (http://aninchofgray.blogspot.com/).  It is days like these when it rains buckets that I wonder how Anna is doing.  I think of how the rain storms must be traumatic for her because I know how hard I struggle with sleep.

Not my own sleep, but the sleep of my children.  It is odd to fear sleep but I do.  Sleep took Jeff's life.  Well, sleep and seizures.  I can't even try to comfort myself in the fact that my children haven't had a seizure because Jeff only had two and really, it would only take one to rob me of my child.

All three of us have our own issues with sleep since Jeff died. It took over a year and a half before my youngest could sleep a full night in his own bed.  He would fall asleep fine but would wake up at some point in the night and need to be with me.  The loss, the uncertainty, the fright in the middle of the night could only be fixed by snuggling with momma.  And, I needed that too.

In fact, I needed it so much I have worked hard to not encourage either of my boys to sleep with me.  I need to hear them breathe, I need to feel their warmth, I need to feel the bed move as they roll over, I need to know that they are alive as they sleep.  And because that is my need, I deny myself.  If they need to be with me, that is one thing.  The fact that I need to be with them is another.

I need to balance my fears and my needs with what will ensure that I raise healthy adjusted individuals.  I can't ask my boys to sleep with me each night just so that I can comfort myself.  I need to make peace with sleep.  I need to accept the uncertainty of life.  I need to trust.  But I don't.  Not yet.

When it rains I think of Anna and every time my boys go to sleep I think of Sherri.

Sincerely,

Jeff's Widow