{"id":35,"date":"2017-08-18T11:11:38","date_gmt":"2017-08-18T11:11:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/hayleysmom.com\/?p=35"},"modified":"2017-08-18T11:11:38","modified_gmt":"2017-08-18T11:11:38","slug":"a-title","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/hayleysmom.com\/index.php\/2017\/08\/18\/a-title\/","title":{"rendered":"A Title"},"content":{"rendered":"

My thoughts are consumed by the efforts to process this tragedy and the crushing pain in my body. As I start to venture outside of our home and have conversations with people outside my circle of support, it constantly occurs to me that I have lost one of my most cherished titles<\/em>. I am a Wife<\/em>. I am the Mother <\/em>of a son.\u00a0 I WAS<\/strong> the Mother <\/em>of a daughter and the Mother <\/em>of two children. \u00a0I have had that title<\/em> torn from me. If a stranger asks me “Do you have children?” Have <\/u>is present tense. I have<\/u> one child. I have<\/u> a son. Do I add that I had<\/u> a daughter. \u00a0It is not my goal to ruin their day or make it awkward.<\/p>\n

This is what I don’t understand. If my Husband<\/em> dies and I have not remarried. I have a title<\/em>. I would be a Widow<\/em>. Reversed he would be a Widower<\/em>. Everyone knows the definition of those two words. Those are both nouns and titles<\/em>.\u00a0 I would assume that this widow<\/em> has faced significant pain, change and may now be filling the role of mom and dad for a family.<\/p>\n

My deepest apologies to my husband<\/em>; but I need to be brutally honest. In my opinion, the pain of losing a child is so much more significant. More everything. Please do not misunderstand. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0I would grieve deeply for my husband<\/em>.\u00a0 There is nothing comparable to the unimaginable pain and grief associated with the loss of your child.<\/p>\n

We created a daughter.\u00a0 We created another human being.\u00a0 She lived within my body. We focused on keeping her safe for 19 years.\u00a0 She had dreams to fulfill; she is irreplaceable. Trust me, I have never stood over my husband at night to check for breathing and marvel at his adorable toes and long eye lashes. The closest I have come to this activity is staring at his face while he snores and farts in his sleep. Wondering when did his nose hairs get so long.<\/p>\n

A spouse is replaceable. Statistics on divorce prove it. Dictionary.com confirms that the bestowed title<\/em> of widow<\/em> or widower<\/em> ends when you remarry. I am not trivializing the pain and suffering caused by losing a spouse.\u00a0 But when that person feels ready to have a new relationship they get an old title<\/em> back.\u00a0 Now you can hope they learned a few things from their marriage and maybe attempt to screen out those traits from the previous spouse that may have been annoying or made life challenging. So not only do you get an actual title<\/em> in between spouses, you could even have a new and improved marriage.<\/p>\n

But what is my current title<\/em> as it relates to my only daughter? It is all past tense. She was my best friend. She was physically a reflection of me. She was my kind, funny, real, thoughtful child that constantly used the word F*@k as a sentence enhancer.<\/p>\n

But title<\/em> is now past tense.\u00a0\u00a0 She died 3 weeks ago.<\/p>\n

Where is my new title?<\/strong><\/p>\n

I deserve a f@#$%g title. I destroyed my body and breasts in ways that make me cringe. I gave her life and nourishment.\u00a0 I rarely slept more than 4 hours a night for the first four years of her life. Then guess what, her brother was born and it started all over again. I have literally not slept 8 hours in a row without the aid of prescription meds or booze in 19 years.\u00a0\u00a0 I was the “Mother<\/em> of a newborn, a toddler, a preteen, a tween, a teen and briefly a semi-adult”<\/p>\n

I put my first born on a school bus for the first time in September 2003, followed the bus and received my next titles: <\/em>\u00a0“Room Mom<\/em>“, “Art Mom<\/em>“, “PTA Mom<\/em>“, \u201cGirl Scout Mom<\/em>\u201d, and yes, the big one, \u201cDance Mom\u201d.<\/p>\n

Junior High came and we had a new favorite title<\/em>, “Parent Dance Chaperones”.\u00a0 We decided to make embarrassing your daughter a sport.\u00a0 If it was an Olympic sport I would have a gold medal for sure.<\/p>\n

My title<\/em> and signature as her mother<\/em> allowed her to be protected from disease by vaccinations. My title<\/em> and signature on checks allowed her to have straight teeth. My title <\/em>and signature on liability waivers allowed her to experience field trips, play soccer, baseball and basketball.\u00a0 My title<\/em> signed her up for roller hockey camp in the 5th<\/sup> grade where she was the only girl. My title<\/em> gave me the right to command her to attend all five days of that camp. I am not sure I was ever forgiven but a few boys learned that you should never underestimate someone with the title<\/em> \u201cgirl\u201d, with a hockey stick and a competitive streak.<\/p>\n

I spent thousands of hours at dance competitions. I sat in the rain and once snow watching high school football games just to see her do what she loved for 3 damn minutes at half time.\u00a0\u00a0 Parents, be honest, unless your kid is playing, high school football sucks. \u00a0AND<\/strong> if your son is playing, hello<\/strong>, have you seen the Will Smith movie.\u00a0 No, not the one where he drags an alien across the desert while spewing witty dialogue and then flies a spaceship with the guy from the fly after he marries a gorgeous stripper with a well-adjusted son in a ceremony officiated by the President of the United States. \u00a0You know, the movie about your growing son’s brain being permanently damaged.\u00a0 Google \u201cCTE\u201d.\u00a0 I sat and watched my daughter cheer for your son’s brains while freezing my ass off waiting for her 3 damn minutes on the field.\u00a0 That title was \u201cDance Mom<\/em>\u201d.\u00a0 There is a reality show by the same name, enough said.<\/p>\n

I was a proud Mom<\/em> when she graduated high school a year ago.<\/p>\n

I was a sobbing mess Mom<\/em> when she left for her freshman year of college.<\/p>\n

Those are only some of my titles<\/em> I have had associated with my daughter.<\/p>\n

At around 2 am, on July 18th, while most of you slept, I watched as my daughter laid naked on a hospital bed.\u00a0 A nurse performed chest compressions. I screamed my daughter’s name as loud as I could while fighting to reach her side. My husband held me back, let them do their job,<\/em> he said. I barely heard the code blue announced over the intercom with her room number.\u00a0 In an attempt to reach her, I kicked, screamed and made noises that can only be described as primitive and raw. I lost control of my bladder.<\/p>\n

I heard hospital staff say, “is that the Mother<\/strong>” not “Her Mother<\/strong>\u201d.\u00a0 I was a title<\/em> to them, a noun.<\/p>\n

After an eternity and disturbing every ICU patient on that floor with my screaming.\u00a0 I saw a man in scrubs come around the corner to where we huddled on the floor. He did not make eye contact.\u00a0 “We were able to intubate her and restore a rhythm. You can see her as soon as we finish stabilizing her. Her body is currently receiving support.”\u00a0 I must improvise there since that memory currently causes a buzzing sound and haze in my brain.<\/p>\n

I was offered a wheelchair. We entered a room titled “family lounge”.\u00a0 That is a stupid title<\/em> for that room. It should be titled “hell”.<\/p>\n

We listened as a slow talker top neurosurgeon explained to us the grim situation. I listened from another place as he explained the 50\/50 chance of her surviving the surgery to access the clot on her brain. I don’t remember him using her name. \u00a0In my head, I was screaming NO<\/strong> over and over.\u00a0 I was shaking and silently telling him to get to the f@#$%^g point (as my daughter would put it). He needed to go save my daughter. Our titles, Mother<\/em> and Father<\/em>, gave us the right to sign the paperwork for him to try to save her.<\/p>\n

Her body survived the surgery, but not her brain.\u00a0 We were asked multiple times to use our titles<\/em> to sign away her rights for resuscitation.\u00a0 I kept saying no.\u00a0 I had looked in her eyes, I stood next to her, I knew she was gone.\u00a0 Finally, I said yes.<\/p>\n

About an hour later as my husband and I sat privately staring at each other hoping that one of us would wake the other up from this nightmare, we talked.\u00a0 The privacy and quiet allowed us some clarity.\u00a0 Wait.\u00a0 She was an organ donor.\u00a0 I know she was.\u00a0 I know it for a fact.\u00a0 By chance we had talked about it less than a month earlier when we saw a news story about the subject on Father\u2019s Day. \u00a0She had just come home from work and we were watching the news.\u00a0 They told the story of 20 year old Abbey Conner and her father, Bill Conner.\u00a0 Bill was riding his bike from Wisconsin to Fort Lauderdale to raise awareness for Organ donation in Abbey\u2019s honor.\u00a0 On Father\u2019s Day, the young man that had received Abbey\u2019s heart met Bill in New Orleans.\u00a0 Bill with the aid of a stethoscope was able to once again hear his daughter\u2019s heart beat.\u00a0 We both were sniffling.\u00a0 I said to Hayley, \u201cwould you ride a bike across multiple states to listen to my heart beat?\u201d\u00a0 Her response was \u201cF&^k NO Mom, but I would consider riding a cute Moped\u201d.\u00a0 We talked about the story, she had questions about organ donation and we both went on with our day knowing that we both believed in the giving the gift of life through Organ Donation.<\/p>\n

The doctors had given up on her.\u00a0 Her life was over.\u00a0 Nothing more to accomplish.\u00a0 But they were wrong.\u00a0 My husband had strength that week that I had never witnessed.\u00a0 He rushed to find the doctor to use our titles<\/em> to order resuscitation if she was to code again and asked about organ donation. \u00a0Our care was assigned to two amazing women that would lead us through the roller coaster of organ donation.\u00a0 We trusted the care and control of her gorgeous body to these strangers.\u00a0 These people make miracles happen.\u00a0 Our daughter\u2019s decision changed the lives of over 6 people.\u00a0 She was able to donate her Heart, both Kidneys, her liver and give sight to two people.\u00a0 There is the possibility that she will continue to change lives through tissue, skin and bone donation.\u00a0 Sometimes this number is nearly a 100 people.\u00a0 We knew that she was extraordinary. \u00a0But she stopped other families from suffering the pain that we were.\u00a0 It was HER choice.\u00a0 As her parents it was our duty to honor her choice and make it happen.<\/p>\n

For 5 nights, our titles<\/em> gave us the power to make decisions that would impact the lives of strangers. We would not leave that building until our daughter did. Each night we had to decide if we were strong enough, was she strong enough to go one more day to allow her heart to grow stronger for the benefit of a total stranger. We asked tough questions.<\/p>\n

My baby brother, well he is 38, he asked the questions I couldn’t speak out loud and took notes. Even though she was technically an adult at 19, our titles<\/em>, Mother<\/em> and Father<\/em>, required us to make overwhelming decisions on her behalf. She had been in this magical phase of life.\u00a0 Not quite an adult, no longer a child. The titles<\/em> of mom<\/em> and dad<\/em> still held deep responsibility.<\/p>\n

Now she is gone. All my titles<\/em> have ceased to exist as they relate to her. I was<\/u> a Mother<\/em> of a daughter. I was<\/u> the Mother <\/em>of two children. I was the Mother<\/em> of Hayley Storm McCutcheon.<\/p>\n

Each year new words are added to the Oxford English Dictionary, The Definitive Record of the English Language.\u00a0 <\/em>Let me share just a handful of the words officially added to the OED in September of 2016.\u00a0 Moobs, Ommba Loompa, Biatch, Biffy, Cheeba, and Clickbait.\u00a0 <\/em>No joke, see link below for the complete list.<\/p>\n

What is my title<\/em> now? Grieving mother? No that is a description. A title<\/em> is a noun, something accepted and used by society.\u00a0 When you call a woman a widow<\/em> you acknowledge that she had a spouse that has died. There is no title for the mother of a dead daughter.<\/p>\n

Why?<\/strong><\/p>\n

I desperately need a title<\/em> that acknowledges She<\/em><\/strong> existed and I was her Mother.<\/em><\/strong><\/p>\n

This is unacceptable. This makes me angry.\u00a0 This diminishes my past role.<\/p>\n

The death of a child deserves a title<\/em>.<\/p>\n

I deserve a title<\/em>. I earned it.<\/p>\n

Yours Forever,<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0Hayley\u2019s Mom<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

http:\/\/public.oed.com\/the-oed-today\/recent-updates-to-the-oed\/september-2016-update\/new-words-list-september-2016\/<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My thoughts are consumed by the efforts to process this tragedy and the crushing pain in my body. As I start to venture outside of our home and have conversations with people outside my circle of support, it constantly occurs to me that I have lost one of my most cherished titles. I am a … <\/p>\n

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