Thursday, December 9, 2010

I'm beginning to believe the next breath will come but I do not believe this hellish nightmare will ever be over until I'm dead and in Heaven with my boy. In a few weeks, I'll appear normal and people will treat me normal but I'll never be normal again.

My Yayas went with me to visit the gravesite. I was afraid to go alone. Afraid I'd become hysterical and not be able to get myself up the hill or drive home. It was precarious getting to the gravesite. My grandmother wanted to be buried on a hillside and it's a beautiful site that gets the afternoon sun with wooded area around. But the ground going down there is very uneven and the steps going down are even more unstable. But we made it and my dear friends held me in the cold as I cried over the tiny grave. MC said some very beautiful words that I'll cherish forever. Part of my mind can't accept that my baby is no longer with me but in the cold ground. It is impossible to understand. Part of me wants to be in there with him. Shouldn't a mother be with her baby?

When I left the hospital the nurses put an angel stamp on the wall for my Greyson. So he's there with all the other babies born in the hospital. The living ones get their pink and blue footprints on the wall. My baby got an angel. My yayas went with me to the hospital where I was able to take a picture of the angel for Greyson's memory box. I was also able to hug and thank my wonderful nurse for the kind and compassionate care she gave us. I realize it wasn't a great night for her either but she was kind, honest and efficient throughout my time with her as all the nurses were.

How do I say this? Thank you everyone for all the kind comments. I wish I could say I was comforted by them but when I read them, I just can't comprehend. I know the things you say are heartfelt and true but it's like I'm reading a foreign language. Reading my anguish must be tormenting so I don't understand why people would read and I am amazed at the outpouring from everywhere. It's going to be really crappy around this blog for a very long time so if you don't read, I don't blame you. Writing here is a release for me and I hope someday it will be a comfort. I wish I didn't have to write it. Shannon and everyone else....of course you should keep writing. Don't let my pain diminish your joy and rejoice everyday that what happened to us did not happen to you.


  1. Such a sweet hospital that your angel got an angel. Greyson is truly loved.

    Just as I was here for you before, I'll be here for you now. I don't how many times I'll say it, maybe forever, that I don't like that you're going through this but I'm not going anywhere, Paige. Release as you need to.

  2. One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.
    Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.
    In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.
    Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,
    other times there were one set of footprints.
    This bothered me because I noticed
    that during the low periods of my life,
    when I was suffering from
    anguish, sorrow or defeat,
    I could see only one set of footprints.
    So I said to the Lord,
    "You promised me Lord,
    that if I followed you,
    you would walk with me always.
    But I have noticed that during
    the most trying periods of my life
    there have only been one
    set of footprints in the sand.
    Why, when I needed you most,
    you have not been there for me?"
    The Lord replied,
    "The times when you have
    seen only one set of footprints,
    is when I carried you."
    Mary Stevenson

  3. as soon as I read of your grief, I remembered this poem my mum gave to us on little cards, she also had it laminted and stuck on her broom closet when I was little....

    i pray it helps you....
    xx mel

  4. Thank goodness you have your Yayas to lean on and to get hugs from. I have been following you for about 8 months and have truly enjoy your blog. I am sorry for your tragic loss, but I am one of many that wish you the best in the near future.

  5. (((((Hugs)))))
    I'm not going anywhere, Paige.

  6. Your blog may be hard to read right now ... but thinking of you and Greyson everyday is not, not, not a burden. And even though its just the internet, I want to be here for you. I don't care how hard it is to read. Its not even a spec compared to what you have to get through. Nothing.

    I love the poem above.


  7. I am so glad that you made the first visit to Greyson's gravesite and that you had your Yayas with you. I'm so sad that your life has taken this turn. We're here to help you bear witness and to offer support.

  8. I am here through thick and thin Paige, so know that your words are being read and deeply felt. You aren't alone. love, inB

  9. I wish our words were more comforting to you Paige - but until they are, and always, we're here for you. Keep posting and we'll keep reaching out to you with our hearts, trying to hold you as you move through this. And though it doesn't feel like it now, you will move through this. Continued prayers for you and Greyson. <3

  10. Dear Gracious Paige...yes it is heartbreaking to read what you're having to endure but I didn't sign up for just the good are amazingly gracious to share this most personal part of you life with us & I will continue to send you loving thoughts & prayers.

  11. I'm still here, reading, even if there's nothing I can possibly say to make this better. hugs xoxoxoxox

  12. Still here and thinking of you daily. I can't begin to imagine what you're going through. Sending many many hugs your way.

  13. Hoping you are finding a way through the pain. Glad your yayas are there and supportive, I know you aren't able to process all this right now and perhaps that is for the best. One day at a time. One hour at a time, maybe even minute by minute, but you will get through. Thinking of you.

  14. I think about you daily, Paige. I will continue to read your blog.. Hugs.

  15. We're not going anywhere, Paige. Please think of each comment as a hug or a squeeze of your hand. Just a little whisper saying, "We're here. We're listening."

  16. A dear friend of mine lost her husband unexpectedly 6 years ago, and she started a blog where she wrote about learning to live life without him. She found the process of writing to be cathartic, and later the release became comforting, especially when she received emails from others in a similar situation who found understanding and comfort from reading her words. I hope you find similar comfort here one day, too.

    We continue to read because we love you and Greyson, Paige, and we're so sad with you. And, selfishly, we hope that someday our words will be comforting to you, too. Your grief is yours alone as his mother, but many of us are sharing in that grief, too. You aren't alone.

  17. I know nothing we say makes it better, but we want to try.

    Praying for you. I'm glad you are able to do things to honor and remember your sweet Greyson.

  18. Paige, honey, I'd be amazed if any of us could truly comfort you right now. I do know that you are strong and not alone. I'm glad the YaYa's and your family are supporting you. As for online, I don't think many will be going anywhere. We love you and hope you start feeling some better soon.