Lights in the Darkness

Today is July 23rd. He would have been 29 years old today, officially as of 9:56 PM, the minute all 8 pounds, 12 ounces of my son made his arrival via c-section. Weeks overdue. Induced. All day labor. Emergency cesarean delivery. 

I remember the moment he 'popped' out (literally, I heard the sound) and was soon after laid upon my chest. Somehow, I'd done it. My son was finally in the world with me. As my body's blood pressure dropped dangerously low, Robbie was scooped off of me and the doctors worked to save me.

I survived his birth, and somehow I have survived his death. Twelve years, two months, and one week without him today. It seems impossible, but one thing I have learned the hard way is how much I am possible of each day. 

People have told me too often how strong I am, and though I appreciate the thought, I know that nobody knows what they are capable of until they need to be capable of things they'd never imagined. 'Before', I couldn't imagine it either. Now, I see no alternatives.

Today seems harder than some of the other missed birthdays, but as always, I give myself freedom to do or not do whatever I need to get through to the other side. Saugatuck will wait for another day as my body feels weighted and unwillingly to boutique and beach. Instead, I woke early and began ticking things off my 'need to get this sh*t done asap list'. 

I know for certain, one thing that has helped is my ability to help others!

Yesterday I was called to report for jury duty (Day 5 of 5, Friday, of COURSE). After sitting from 8am-1pm, the group of 94 possible jurors was finally escorted into Judge Aquilina's courtroom. Standing room only. After obligatory information, she read the 5 charges of the case, warning us it may be triggering, and that many of us would soon be dismissed: felonious criminal sexual assault of a child 13 years of age or younger. 

Row by row, she had jurors who felt they would have trouble being unbiased to stand, and then briefly explain why, out loud, in front of over 100 strangers, one of whom was the accused.

She said it was required.

Some were already openly sobbing. Shaking. Clearly, triggering.

By the time she came to me, my nerves were raw and my voice was shaking as I tried to speak loudly enough from my back row for her to hear. "I was a victim of sexual assault."

I was dismissed.

I helped multiple people who were too traumatized by their personal reasons to leave the outside hallway, who sat in the parking lot with tears streaming because they were too shaken to drive away.

I was able to offer solace to others who have survived trauma. This is what makes my own past manageable. I have insight others cannot, allowing me empathy, demanding I do more to help others who are in need.

These are the things that keep me going, that make Robbie's 29th birthday a day that I understand might suck (sorry Mom, but it's the right word) but also motivates me to keep fighting for myself and others. 

If you want a safe place to fall, a safe place to write and/or create, or a safe time and space to help guide your words to change your world, check out my Open Studio days & newly posted Writing Workshop and Women Writing Through Trauma workshop.

In the meantime, know you are not alone and there is a series of lights to scare away the darkness.

I hope to see you soon.

Maybe get some ice cream today in memory of my most favorite boy, Robbie. Happy Birthday, Boo Bear. Momma loves you, up to the moon and over the sun.

xoxo

Always.