October, Where did you go?

I have not written in nearly a month.  Not because I didn’t want to, but it never seemed the right time.  I was making a commitment to go to bed early, take my evening medicines according to Doctor’s instructions and just being painfully exhausted.  The beginning of October was a huge challenge.  On Monday the 2nd the day was a roller coaster of horrible events, emotions both good and bad.  On that day, Hayley’s classmate, Ben, died.  On that day, so many people died in Las Vegas.  We thought about cancelling the Glassybaby event that evening but I am so glad we didn’t.  It ended up being a beautiful event.  It felt like an all female celebration for Hayley.  Moms everywhere.  We ended up selling over 350 “hayley” glassy babies.  Scott was there in the corner with a couple of our close friends.  I was an unintentional receiving line.  You wouldn’t think it was possible but it was more emotional than the original service.  This was intimate, these were people from all the phases of my life and I was not as numb as I had been on August 6th or as medicated.  I had been communicating with Ben and his Mom since Hayley’s death.  I wanted Ben to know how much Hayley admired his strength and how I believe that he helped her be so strong during her week of hell.  That same week Eastlake honored both Ben and Hayley at the Football Game.  Prior to the game with all the players lined up and the spectators standing, the six of us, the two families both missing a puzzle piece stood on the field together.  Henry does not like any attention right now and I know this was a hard thing for him to do.  He stood in the end zone and watched his school honor his sister.  If any of us had any kind of denial going on, this was in our face real.  The amazing couple that organized this honor, they did such a nice job.  It was more than the minute of silence we expected.  The words and Hayley and Ben’s photos on the scoreboard screen were heartfelt and just right.  It ended with both Hayley and Ben’s photos and legacy phrases.  “Be Like Hayley and Cush it to the Limit”.   We will support each other.  Strangers that share the ultimate pain.  It is like we are both missing the complimentary pieces to the puzzle of our families.  Their kids are 4 years older than ours, but the similarities are not lost on me.  Girl and then Boy, 4 years apart.  Married since college.  Husbands named Scott.  They are missing the Son and we are missing the Daughter.  What a cruel world this is.

That same week seem to go on forever.  Death and Love on Monday.  Honors and Football on Friday.  A Parade, a wedding on Saturday.  We were happy to witness the wedding of two wonderful people.  At the same time it was a very difficult time for me emotionally.  Hayley had been talking about this wedding for months.  She was so excited.  She talked about dress shopping with her new body.  It was the first wedding we would all be going to that the kids would remember.  Hayley joked about drinking and making Henry the designated driver.  I felt so outside of my own body.  I wanted to appear happy, I didn’t want to be the sad mom at the wedding.  I decided to have a couple of drinks to help, so one thing did go as planned, Henry was the designated driver.  Nothing like a permitted driver at night in downtown Seattle.  The table we were at had a missing seat.  Again, a day of happiness and sadness.

The second week included several lunch meetings with friends.  Talk of Scott’s return to work.  Homecoming week.  On Thursday I had my bi-annual sonogram of my legs.  In 2012 I survived a DVT, blood clot, in my leg shortly after ankle surgery.  Why did I survive a blood clot and she didn’t?  I now have it monitored twice a year by a vascular doctor.  I had the opportunity to see him and tell him what happened to Hayley.  He was shocked and appalled.  When I told him I believed that blame lied with the Issaquah Hospital, not only did he agree with me but he talked about how that hospital is only a transfer station and how he would not have left her there that long.  I know it was not his intention, but I walked away with my mom guilt suffocating me.  I barely made it to my car before screaming and crying.  I startled an elderly couple screaming Hayley’s name over and over.  I screamed until I was hoarse.  I failed my child.  She should have had a chance.  It was taken away from her because of the arrogance of a handful of specialists and incompetence of an entire hospital.   I should have known.  I should have made it all better.  Saturday was Homecoming.  Henry went with some friends but was reluctant to share his plans.  I found out there were “pictures” at all places the Bellevue Botanical Gardens.  This is where I have done most of my photo shoots of Hayley.  I felt left out.  I felt like he was shutting me out.  If he didn’t need me, what was my purpose?  When I confronted him, he thought I would embarrass him.  I went down the rabbit hole that night.  I passed my guilt along the way and kept going towards the bottom.  My son did not want me involved.  It became an out of control mess that night.  I was distraught, emotional and irrational.  I still feel bad that I subjected him to that. It was real and it was raw, but it was not his fault or his responsibility.  That next morning we had to drive to Mount Vernon and clear my in-law’s sold house.  We were in over our heads.  Scott had planned to spend time there earlier in the week taking loads but he ended up having to silver-sit his Mom at the same Hospital and a few rooms down from where Hayley lay and ultimately lost her life because of it.  I knew we were in over our head and sent an SOS.  They say you find out who you can count on when things are bad.  It is absolutely true.  The people that have stepped up, provided support and reached out have proved what they are made of.  This is the type of situation most people don’t want to face, it is too painful.  If they get involved they have to be able to go home and look at their own children and instead of seeing fear or guilt they need to see gratitude and love for them no matter what.  Not everyone can do that.  With the support of the person that is always there and my brother and sister in law, we actually accomplished what seemed like the impossible.

The third week was a new shit show.  Literally.  Scott had briefly annoyed me the previous week.  Long enough for me to check one thing off my to do list.  Scheduling his overdue Colonoscopy.  I have had three.  I have had three horrible experiences.  I am a little ashamed at the joy I felt when seeing his 2 liters of prep sitting on the counter.  I am also a little chagrined by how mad I was at the ease he rolled through the experience.  Since it was an afternoon appointment, he was able to split the prep between the evening and the morning.  This seem to make the cleanse not so violent.  Then when we get there, we find out he gets to be in the one unit that is able to use Propofol for the procedure instead of the usual conscious sedation.  This meant quick and easy wake up in recovery.  No hangover at all from the experience.  Just ready to go.  I know it was not kind, but I was super pissed.  It did not help when he said “I don’t know what you have complained about all these times, that was easy”.  By the next day I had developed a virus that gave me laryngitis and an ear infection for extra fun.  I was due to go to the Hood Canal Property of my friend to have some alone time.  I ended up going Friday with my friend joining me.  She left a night early, I was not much company since I could not talk at all.

The next week Scott came to the Hood Canal house and we traded places.  He spent the entire week there.  This made me the 6:45 am ride to school for Henry.  I am not a morning person.  This week I finally pulled Hayley’s laptop out of its spot in her room.  With my friends help I was able to get it signed in and learn to navigate a MAC.  Her photos, her messages, her schoolwork  stared back at me.  Her computer, her phone and her car were her most valued possessions.  All three are still waiting for her to return.  I am now able to sit in bed tonight with her laptop on her laptop tray and finally write again without sitting at my PC.  Henry came to say goodnight to me.  “Mom when did you get a MAC?” It’s Hayley’s.  He reached out and gently touched the stickers she placed on her cover.  It was a moment.

Now that you are caught up on my month I can talk about the biggest event.  Back in September a friend took me to Stanwood to visit a Golden Retriever Breeder and her farm.  She had a litter of 3 week old puppies and we were going to have puppy therapy.  A field trip to get me out of the house.  You really can’t be sad when you are holding puppies.  When Henry’s friend lost their Golden Retriever later that month, I took them to the farm for Puppy time.  They were 5 weeks old.  At 6 weeks I went back with another friend for Puppy time.  On the way home from working in Mount Vernon we all stopped to meet the puppies.  Scott was hooked.  At 7 weeks and some wine, Scott agreed to a fourth dog in the house.  I had a secret weapon, a card Hayley made me.  On my birthday last January, Hayley and I met half way between home and school for a mid week birthday dinner.  We shopped at the outlet mall, she bought me some earrings.  At dinner she gave me 15 “open when” cards.  She had hand written all of them.  They were sealed.  They said things like “open when you miss Dudley Dog”; “Open when you want a dog”; “open when you have a bad day at work”; “open when you don’t feel good”; “open with dad is being an asshole” and the heartbreaker, “open when you miss me”.   When she came home in June, she asked me how many I had opened.  Oh Shit, I had totally forgotten about the cards in my nightstand drawer.  “Oh honey, I have only opened a few, I am trying to make them last the whole year until my next birthday”.  I felt my pants on fire.  I have not opened the “open when you miss me”  or “open when you need to know how much I love you”.  I know that when I do I will collapse into a puddle of pain.  Thanks to Hayley we are now the proud owners of a 9 week old Golden Retriever Puppy named Finn.  

He came home on October 28th.  I thought  my friends would be the voice of reason.  How can I take care of a puppy when I can barely take care of myself?  Nope.  They thought it was a great idea.  They were worried about me not getting out of bed when Scott went back to work.  They are concerned by how little I move.  Well they were right.  I have barely sat down in 6 days.  I have not had more than 3 hours sleep in a row in 5 nights.  My knee and bad ankle are actually sore from getting up and down and going in and out.  It is hard to think about much else but his need to pee, poop, eat and sleep.  It is like having an infant.  Henry and Scott are both smitten and I feel like for the first time since the nightmare started the three of us have a project, something we are doing as a new family.  

The month ended on Halloween, Ben’s Birthday.  One of Hayley and Henry’s favorite holidays.  I always had parties for them and their friends.  I made Henry’s costumes most years.  They shared their twizzlers and peanut butter cups with me.  I have many boxes of decoration.  We have an inflatable yard pumpkin that has been in our yard every October for 14 years.  Not this year.  This year we bought no candy.  We turned the lights off and the pumpkin stayed in the garage with all the decorations.  No dog costumes.  The boys didn’t care.  I realized it was Hayley that appreciated my decorations.  It was Hayley that insisted we maintain traditions.  She knew it made me happy.

This past month I have learned what it means to have “triggers”.  Triggers have been everywhere.  They were at Ikea.  Hayley and I had been the week before surgery to get her a nightstand to match her high end bed and a ottoman for the dogs to get up on her bed.  Everywhere were reminders.  The one that left me in the maze of aisles in tears was the doll bed.  Hayley still has hers.  It lived on the side of her bed hidden from others, with the bedding I sewed for it and her dolls,  Susie and Sally.  She appreciated the emotional value of “things”.  When she was very young we made a tie blanket for my Grandmother that lived in Vegas.  That blanket was displayed on the back of her couch for many years until her death.  Hayley knew how thankful I was that she had gotten to know my Grandmother.  My Grandma was one of the most important people in my life.  She asked for the blanket.  It was always with her.  Vacations, College and home.  That is a trigger.  The Holiday decorations in Home Goods flipped the switch.  What was I going to do for the holidays?  Hayley loved our decorations like I did.  We always got a new one each year.  She remembered stories about them all.  We had ones from our mother/daughter travels.  An Ulta trip was a huge trigger.  I ran in quickly to get skin care products for Henry.  Holiday shit everywhere on fucking Halloween.  All of the great stocking stuffers that I would shop.  But I have no stocking to stuff with those items.  Waiting in line there on the counter were the new naked palettes.  Hayley was so good with eye make up.  She loved her eye shadows, the brand was naked.  They were always on her Christmas list.  I was standing in line waiting behind someone really high maintenance.  Hurry, Please, Hurry.  I want to make it out of here before I lose it.  Seriously, Bitch, you are going to witness a meltdown if you don’t pay and stop asking stupid questions.  By the time she left and I approached the cashier, I was already Ugly Crying.  I know it was an Ugly Cry, I could tell by the look of horror on this poor girl’s face.  “What is wrong, are you okay?”  Ugly Crying; “no I am not okay, my daughter died and this was her favorite store, please get me out of here” Snot, hiccup, tears running down my face.  She said I will get you out of here fast don’t worry.  She was the perfect example of professional and fast.  She even still got my rewards number out of me.  I made it to the car crying for Hayley and finding no kleenex only Drive Thru napkins.  They work.

Triggers are everywhere.  I get it now.  I saw a Psychiatrist the last month in addition to the weekly counseling sessions.  He explained my counselor would be there to help me with skills and he would be there to help me with pills.  Yes, he rhymed.  We did talk about PTSD.  I wasn’t in a war I said.  He said what you witnessed at 2 am on July 18th, that is your war.  In addition to depression and grief, we can add symptoms of PTSD.  How am I going to work?  How will I find a new job?  How do you go to an interview, “don’t worry I only cry 8-10 times a day, but hire me”.