I am a mother, I am the mother of a still born baby. I am Liam Michael
Felty's mother. I am the mother of a perfectly healthy baby boy. I am the
mother of a full term baby bot. I am the mother of a baby that died. I am a
mother with empty arms. I am a grieving mother. I am a hurting mother.
My faith has gotten me through this tragedy thus far. My husband,
friends, and family that have supported, encouraged, prayed for, cried with,
and been there for me have helped me to walk through the grief of losing Liam.
My faith and strong support system have helped to get me through, but that
doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt, that it isn't still hard, or that there
aren't days that nearly knock me out. Having a strong faith in God keeps me
going, but it doesn't make it easier. It doesn't automatically take the pain
away.
Does the fact that I can still have a good day, still laugh with friends
and family, still enjoy moments, or continue to make memories, does that make
me strong. I don't know. Does that make it seem like I have all it together,
maybe. But it doesn't mean I do. Does it mean I am over loosing Liam, hell no!
Does it mean that I don't still think about him, or that I am not still
saddened by his loss, NO. Does it mean that time really does heal all things
and the further we get away from September 9th, 2012 the easier it gets,
definitely not!
I will grieve looking Liam until the day that I die. I will think about
my son everyday for the rest of my life. Even after I have more children, I
will still look at kids, boys, men that are Liam's age and wonder and be
saddened by all that could have and should have been. Although the sun does
still shine through the clouds in my life, the storms still roll in. Perhaps I
am truly learning to dance in the rain, as they say. But you can't always avoid
the lightening strike.
The fog of Liam's death always surrounds me and always will. It's like
Pastor Rick said "It will always be there, for the rest of your life. But
sometimes it will be thicker than others." Sometimes that fog is so thick
I can't see my own feet in front of me. Other times I can carry on down the
road.
As I lay here now in our pseudo nursery, crib taken down and put in the
closet, air mattress back out. Liam's clothes, blankets, and stuffed animals
packed away in boxes. Diapers tucked away in the drawer, books closed on the
shelf. Stroller and car seat wrapped up and put in the attic. Swing folded
away. Bouncy seat, high chair, and baby both never been opened or used. The
wooden letters "L I A M" and empty picture frames set aside. All I
can do is lay here and cry. There isn't a damn thing I can do to change my
circumstances. Liam is gone and he is never coming back, and it breaks my heart
and hits me to my very core. It angers me, saddens me, and frustrates me.
I miss Liam so deeply, I ache to hold and kiss him.
I would give anything to have his here with me. Part of my heart will
always be missing.
I have been robbed of the joys that being a mother entails.
Yet, I am still a mother. I am the mother of still born, I am Liam
Michael Felty's mother.
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