I miss you Maxxton

I love you Maxxton. I wish I could hold you and hear your cute voice!

Why My Mommy Lies

Ask My Mom How She Is 
 My Mom, she tells a lot of lies  
She never did before  
But from now until she dies  
She'll tell a whole lot more  
Ask My mom how she is  
And because she cant explain  
She will tell a little lie  
Because she cant describe the pain 
  Ask My Mom how she is  
She'll say 'I'm Alright'  
If that's the truth then tell me  
Why does she cry each night?  
Ask My Mom how she is 
  She seems to cope so well  
She didnt have a choice you see  
Nor the strength to yell 
  Ask My Mom how she is  
'I'm fine. I'm well, I'm coping'  
For God's sake Mom, just tell the truth  
Just say your heart is broken  
She'll love me all her life  
I loved her all mine  
But if you ask her how she is  
She'll lie and say she's fine 
  I am here in Heaven  
I cannot hug from here  
If she lies to you DON't listen  
Hug her and hold her near  
On the day we meet again 
We'll smile and I'll be bold I'll say, ' You're lucky to get in here Mom,  
With all the lies you told!'

Distance

"The distance between joy and pain can be measured by one heartbeat" ~Unknown~

 

I miss you so much Maxx!

Thank you!! Shauna & Lindsay

Lindsay made this beautiful cloud for Maxxton's bday! 

Shauna sent me this for Maxx :-)

Maxxton's Balloon

Thank you Shauna for thinking of my angel!

Guilt is my punishment

Maxxton is 11 months old today. I wish I could kiss his cute lil cheeks. I can't help but feel extremely guilty for him not being here. The more time passes, the more "What ifs" I can think of. I am his mother. I was supposed to protect him. I wasn't supposed to fall asleep in the front room. I know if we would have just stayed at the lake that night, Maxx would still be here. I know this for sure. There are reasons I know this that I have never told anyone because it kills me thinking about it and the images of him that morning are burnt in my mind. It's torture. I feel like I deserve this torture for not being in the room with him. What if he was crying for hours and I was to exhausted to hear his cries in the middle of the night. This pain and guilt is my punishment for not being there for my baby. It's my constant reminder that he lived perfectly healthy for 6 1/2 weeks.

Babies at Breakfast

Yesterday was my birthday so my dad and stepmom came to visit. This morning we all went to breakfast. Me, Raxton, Jason, my Dad and step mom. 

Accross from us was a little baby about Maxxton's size when he passed away. The baby was making his little noises like Maxxton had just started to do. 

I want to be happy for people with their new little babies all around, but deep down I just want to trip them as they walk by. I hate this angry feeling I have inside. Everyone deserves to be so happy with their new babies. But why did I deserve to have mine taken from me? My perfectly healthy 6.5 week old baby - just ripped from life. 

My life will never be the same. I don't even know who I am anymore. How does Raxton handle it logically better than I do and I am the adult. It's just messed up.

Tears

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love (re-post from SIDS LTC)

 

The Guilt of Grieving

A pleasant meal, a lovely night out,
Then today I am wracked with guilt don’t you see,
How can I smile or laugh with friends?
When my baby is not where she ought to be.
A TV show makes me giggle,
Then laugh out loud and smile,
Then the guilt… how can I be laughing,
How could I forget, even for a while.
I look at my son in passing, I’m proud,
He smiles to me as if to say,
It is ok to have fun now Mum,
Please don’t feel guilty today.
My partner beside me sees my tears fall,
He knows that I feel guilty I stayed,
That she is not now here with us,
Curled up on this sofa today.
My daughter strokes my hand,
Looks into my eyes and declares,
Mum we would have been lost without you,
Then guilt that I gave them such a scare,
This guilt it will be ever present,
Why her? And almost but then not me,
This guilt is it a part now of loving her?
Guilt that this is not how it was supposed to be,
So guilt I will feel for always now,
That it was my baby that had to die,
Guilt that it wasn’t me instead,
Who grew my Angel wings to fly.
Guilt that I can laugh and joke,
When my Angel is not here anymore,
That I can still summon a smile,
When my baby, the one I longed for,
Has her angel wings in heaven above,
Guilt that I am not with her up there,
Then guilt that I would think to leave my others,
This guilt is just so hard to compare.
I guess then this guilt I carry, the guilt of grieving,
Will be with me now forever and a day,
So I will have to learn to live along side it,
This guilt that I got to stay.

Christine Bevington 2011

A SIDS Death

Parental Grief And A SIDS Death

The impact of a Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS) death presents unique grieving factors and raises painful psychological issues for the parents and family as well as those who love, care for, and counsel them. SIDS parents must deal with a baby's death that is unexpected and unexplained, a death that cannot be predicted or prevented, an infant death so sudden that it leaves no time for preparation or goodbyes, and no period of anticipatory grief. In many cases, parents of SIDS babies are very young and are confronted with grief for the first time.

SIDS often occurs at home, forcing parents and siblings or other children to witness a terrible tragedy and possibly scenes of intense confusion. In some cases, the parents themselves are the ones who find the child dead and they must always live with that memory. In other cases, the parents may feel overwhelming guilt or anger if the death occurred while the child was in daycare. They may feel that the baby might not have died if they had been caring for it. "All too frequently, a SIDS loss is not socially validated in the same way other deaths are. Others often fail to recognize that, despite the brevity of the child's life, the family's attachment to that child is strong and deep and has been present in various ways since the knowledge of conception" (Rando 1986,167).

SIDS parents must take a journey that "involves a trek through grief-a strange and hostile territory that no one would ever pass through if given the choice" (Horchler and Morris 1994, 17). SIDS parents often retain strong feelings of guilt and sometimes a sense of responsibility for what happened even though they've been told there was nothing they could have done to prevent the death. Sometimes, parents are the victims of undeserved suspicion from law enforcement personnel, even family members, neighbors, or friends. In the most difficult situations, the baby's death may cause parents to be subjected to grueling investigations and hostile questions; they may even face accusations of child abuse.

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Probably the most stressful and anxiety-provoking act in human existence is the separation of a woman from her newborn infant. The response to this, which humans share with most of the animal kingdom, is an overwhelming combination of panic, rage, and distress. - RUSKIN, IN HORCHLER AND MORRIS 1994,16

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SIDS parents, relatives, daycare providers, health care professionals, and other adults feel helpless in trying to explain the unexplainable to other young children who may have been present at the time of the baby's death. It is especially difficult for children to understand why a baby died when it didn't appear to be sick. Also, in some cases parents are required to explain SIDS to adults who are misinformed or know nothing about the syndrome.

Any infant or early childhood death forces adults to think about their own vulnerability, but a SIDS death also brings with it total mystery, an absence of answers, and a frightening loss of control. The chaos surrounding a SIDS death leaves most parents feeling that nothing in life is predictable; a SIDS death throws everything off balance.

As is the case in most traumatic experiences, SIDS parents are likely to continually replay the events surrounding the death over and over in their minds and in their conversations. Whether the parents put a seemingly healthy baby down for a nap or for the night or took the child to the daycare provider, they assumed their child was well and in a protected environment. They felt secure; their family and their world were in order. Then suddenly, everything has been turned upside down. Even though there may be attempts to reassure the parents that the baby didn't appear to suffer, frequently they are not convinced. They repeatedly ask, "How can a perfectly healthy baby die?" Often these parents are told that SIDS doesn't carry a high hereditary risk; yet fears about having subsequent children haunt them.

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[The grief SIDS parents feel is like a]...continuous, crashing waterfall of pain...SIDS is a forced separation that will last forever. In the beginning, survivors are so shocked that their bodies and minds cannot even begin to comprehend all that has been lost...Shock and disbelief overtake most survivors so they can only vaguely feel their own empty arms and the rage that will eventually come full force. ...SIDS parents attempt to transcend the awfulness of [the baby's] death by choosing to celebrate the dead infant's life while not denying the physical finality of the death...[After a SIDS death, parents attempt] to travel the long road of grief to a place of rest and hope...SIDS parents must [try to] actively seek peace and joy in life-even in the face of a grief that will never end... - HORCHLER AND MORRIS 1994, 2, 16, 17, 248

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SIDS parents also are very often plagued by "if only's" that they are never able to resolve. They mentally replay such thoughts as: "If only I hadn't put the child down for a nap when I did." "If only I had checked on the baby sooner." "If only I had not returned to work so soon." "If only I had taken the baby to the doctor with that slight cold."

SIDS parents also need to know the value and importance of obtaining reliable information. They need to have access to professional support; and they need to be aware of the great benefits other parents have gained from attending support groups and sharing their experience or by expressing their thoughts and feelings in writing.

Moreover, bereaved SIDS parents often find that health care professionals are as perplexed as they are and cannot provide them with any explanation for the death. Although most health professionals know about SIDS, not all can provide parents with the information they so anxiously seek. They are unable to provide answers to questions such as: "Did my baby suffer?" "What are the possible causes of SIDS?" "What can I do to prevent another child from dying of SIDS?" "Are there symptoms I should have known about that could have prevented the death?"

In the case of some SIDS deaths, the autopsy findings may still leave unanswered questions, or the child's death may be attributed to causes that are problematic for the parents. Some families are subjected to agonizing doubts and delays from the legal system about the exact cause of death. The absence of standardized procedures for determining the cause of unexpected infant deaths brings added pain and frustration to parents already in the midst of a harrowing nightmare. Thus, SIDS parents are often denied the sense of closure that comes from knowing the exact cause of their baby's death.

A single SIDS death can have a ripple effect on as many as 100 people who came in contact with the baby or the family. "The expanded circle of concern" (Corr et al. 1991, 43) can include parents, extended family, neighbors, coworkers, child care providers, health care and emergency personnel, clergy, funeral directors, and other care providers.

SIDS parents and family members need to be around people who will offer them support in a nonjudgmental way; they need to know that some things in their lives are permanent and there are certain people on whom they can truly depend. Other family members, friends, or professionals can provide this sense of dependability and assurance by allowing parents both permission and ways to express their grief and talk about their confusion. SIDS parents need to talk and they need someone to listen-really listen-even if they tell their story, express their doubts and fears, and ask the same questions repeatedly. What SIDS and other bereaved parents are really saying is, "Let me tell you about my pain; let me talk about my child with you; please do call my child by name; please do not let my child be forgotten."

Friends and family members should try to do all they can to show their concern and help the parents in keeping alive memories of their baby. For most SIDS parents, it is also reassuring for others to try to mention special things they noticed about the baby and to remember the child's birthday or the anniversary of the death. By extending these personal and sensitive gestures, loving and concerned relatives, friends, and caregivers can become a source of reassurance and comfort for the grieving parents.

Some SIDS babies are so young when they die that family members and friends never had a chance to welcome them. They may have missed sharing the parents' excitement over the birth and affirming the child's existence. Many individuals do not understand the depth of parental attachment to a very young child. Bereaved SIDS parents should not be made to feel that others don't want to hear them, that others won't permit them to openly grieve. The parents of SIDS babies want their child's short life to matter not only to them, but to their families and friends, to the others in their "circle of concern," to the world.

---

The dynamics of a SIDS loss [mean]...there is no chance to say goodbye to the infant or to absorb the reality of the loss gradually over time; the unexpected loss so overwhelms people that it reduces their functioning and compromises their recovery...The physical and emotional shock of the infant's death undermines the [parents'] capacity for regaining a feeling of security; the SIDS loss evokes particularly problematic grief reactions, such as the abrupt severing of the mother and father infant bond. - RANDO 1986, 166

I miss you...

Maxxton,

I miss you so much! Not a day goes by that I am not wishing you were here with us. I love you and I look forward to seeing you again.

Those who...

Those who are near me do not know that you are nearer to me than they are
Those who speak to me do not know that my heart is full with your unspoken words
Those who crowd in my path do not know that I am walking alone with you
They who love me do not know that their love brings you to my heart.

-- Rabindranath Tagore (1861-1941)

Pass Maxxton's balloon!

Pass Maxxton's Balloon

http://tributeballoon.com/balloon/show/1042840

Just because...

Just because you don't see my tears... Doesn't mean I don't cry several times a day.
Just because you don't hear me talk... Doesn't mean I am not thinking about him constantly.
Just because you got on with your life... Doesn't mean I ever will.
Just because you stopped talking about him... Doesn't mean I don't wonder if you think of him.
Just because you think I'm 'okay' now... Doesn't mean I am.
Just because you don't call anymore... Doesn't mean I don't wish you would.
Just because Maxxton isn't here, doesn't mean he isn't my baby.

I am sick of people not acknowledging him, talking about him or letting his memory keep him alive... Me alive... I will never let his memory die. I need him in my life. Whether his body is here or not. I will never let Raxton feel like Maxxton isn't his baby brother. 

Maxxton's Pinwheel

I just want to send a special thanks to Shauna Cox for such a beautiful thought of my little Maxxton.

Obituary

MAXXTON MADILL

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Maxxton Ryker Lynn Madill Our Sweet Angel Maxxton was born June 10, 2010 to Robby and Racheal Madill. He received his "Angel" wings on July 25, 2010. Even though Maxxton was only here for six short weeks, he touched many lives. Little Baby Maxx is deeply loved and missed by his Mommy and Daddy, his big brothers, Ryan, Mathew and Raxton; grandparents, Richard (Kris) Duerlinger, Judy (Scott) Madill and Stanley (Sherry) DeVaughn; great-grandparents, Ruth Harris, Sherry Holston and Kay Nyberg; many aunts, uncles, cousins and friends. Maxxton is preceded in death by his big brother, Robby Jr. and grandmother, Leslie Walton; great grandparents, Stanley and Irene DeVaughn, and Robert Nyberg, Richard Gillett and great grandpa, Jack Holsten. Funeral Services will be held Thursday, July 29, 2010 at 2:00 p.m. at the Valley View Funeral Home Chapel, 4335 West 4100 South. The family will receive friends at a viewing on Thursday from 12:00 noon until 1:45 p.m. prior to the service.

8 Month Nightmare

Today is 8 months since we woke up to find my little Maxxton asleep forever. and last night I had this really horrible dream. I don't usually have dreams like this, and I have never had panic attacks but I woke up in the middle of the night freaking out... My dream was, Me, Raxton (my 3 yr old) and Maxxton (my angel) were at a carnival of some sort. They were having a parade so I was telling Raxton to come with me and see the floats. Once we got over there, I noticed Maxxton wasn't with us.. I started freaking out looking all over for him. I had everyone looking for my baby. Hours went by and I still couldn't find him... That's when I woke up, freaking out. It's been a really emotional day. I am not looking forward to his 1 yr bday or 1 yr Angel mark... People tell me it will get easier but I just can't imagine how that is possible...

:w.t.h:

I am so happy and excited one minute, thinking everything is looking up.. Then I can't get out of bed and just cry non stop the next...

I hate how everyone just goes on with their lives after everything was over, I suffer everyday without my beautiful healthy Maxxton here.

I can't handle all this pain. Never felt anything like this. sick of people and their opinions and judgement.

Just Say "I'm Sorry"

You don't know how I feel; please don't tell me that you do
There's just one way to know--have you lost a child too?
"You'll have another child"--must I hear this every day?
Can I get another mother, too, if mine should pass away?
Don't say it was "God's will"--that's not the God I know.
Would God, on purpose, break me heart, then watch as my tears flow?
"You have an angel in heaven--a precious child above."
But tell me, to whom here on earth shall I give this love?
"Aren't you better yet?" Is that what I heard you say?
No! A part of my heart aches and I'll always feel some pain.
You think that silence is kind, but it hurts me even more.
I want to talk about my child who has gone through death's door.
Don't say these things to me, although you do mean well.
They do not take my pain away; I must go through this hell.
I will get better, slow but sure--and it helps to have you near.
But a simple "I'm sorry you lost your child" is all I need to hear.
--Gail Fasolo--

Go eff ur.self...

My ex husband is hell  bent on making sure I know that he feels like it's my fault about Maxxton. He tells me that he and I both know Maxxton suffocated and It's my fault since I put him to bed and covered him with a blanket... Isn't that what EVERY mother does?? I was taking care of my son... I didn't put the blanket on his face... He blames me and it is hard for me not to blame myself... I ordered the medical examiners report to be sure that I didn't cause his suffocation and it says there are no signs of aspiration... That means he didn't suffocate, right???  I obviously blame myself for not being in there with him in the first place but my ex doesn't help this situation or feeling AT ALL... Is it possible to grow hate for the father of your babies?

.6.Months.without.Maxxton.

Tomorrow is 6 months that Maxxton passed away. Everyday is still as hard as it has been. Everyone says it gets easier when it doesn't. The pain is my reminder that I held him and talked to him for the 6 1/2 weeks he was with me.

I miss him so much. I want to hold him in my arms, smell his baby breath, let him eat my cheek. He would be 7 1/2 months old right now. I picture everyday what he would be doing, how he would be acting, smilling, giggling and cooing.

I wish I wouldn't have had my tubes tied. Nothing or anyone could ever replace him, but something in my arms could help me show him how much I love and miss him.

Aching in the pit of my stomach!

Maxxton has been gone for 6 months next week... I am having a hard time when it comes to letting people know about him being gone. His pic is on my debit card. I get alot of comments from people saying how adorable and asking how old he is. I used to come right out and say "he passed away from SIDS" but now I am finding that I am just saying "Thanks" and telling them how old he would be now...  I just don't know what to say anymore... I feel like if I say that he isn't here then people just think I am trying to get their sympathy but if I say how old he would be now - then it's like I am lying cuz he isn't here.... I am just confused, aching, depressed... I feel so many emotions that I can't control my life anymore.

The distance...

Jason is working in Vernal. I am living in Salt Lake. This distance is killing me, I need and want to be with him every night. I feel alone. Raxton is with me everynight but I am sure he gets sick of my tears. I don't want him feeling like I cry all the time. He needs a normal happy life.

How do I stop being so sad?

...lost...

I'm so mixed up.. I feel so lost. Someone told me to find god... I don't know how. My life has completely changed in the last 6 months. I feel like I lost control . I don't know where to turn or how to fix it.

What is Normal after your child dies?

What is Normal after your child dies?

Original poem by Tara & Heath Carey

Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.  

Normal is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Birthdays, X-mas, Hanukkah, Thanksgiving, New Years, Valentine's Day, July 4th and Passover.  

Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything anymore.  

Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand "what if's" & "why didn't I's" go through your head constantly.  

Normal is reliving it continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.  

Normal is having the TV on the minute you walk into the house to have noise, because the silence is deafening.  

Normal is staring at every child around your child's age, trying to imagine who they'd be now.  Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.  

Normal is every happy event in your life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in your heart.  

Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds.  And yet realizing it has become a part of your "normal."  

Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your childs's memory and their birthdays and survive these days.  And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion.  Happy Birthday?  Not really.  

Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special Taylor loved. Thinking how he would love it, but how he is not here to enjoy it.  Normal is having some people afraid to mention your child. 

Normal is making sure that others remember him.  

Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.  

Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse, not better.  

Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child.  Nothing compares.  NOTHING.  Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare.  Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.  

Normal is taking pills, and trying not to cry all day, because you know your mental health depends on it.  

Normal is realizing you do cry everyday.  

Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone but someone also stricken with grief over the loss of their child.  

Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child. 

Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God.  "God may have done this because…"  

Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did the laundry or if there is any food.  

Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have two children or one child, because you will never see this person again and sometimes it is not worth explaining that your child is dead.  And yet when you say you have one child to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed the dead child.  

Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours and asking if there even is a God.  

Normal is knowing you will never get over this loss, not in a day nor a million years.  

Normal is having therapists agree with you that you will never "really" get over the pain and that there is nothing they can do to help you because they know only bringing your child back from the dead could possibly make it "better."  

Normal is learning to lie to everyone you meet and telling them you are fine. You lie because it makes others uncomfortable if you cry.  You've learned it's easier to lie to them then to tell them the truth that you still feel empty and it's probably never going to get any better -- ever.  And last of all...

Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal."  

The above poem was written by Tara and Heath Carey after they lost their daughters Violet and Iris in 2002 when natural gas caused their apartment to explode.

Decisions...

So, they say don't make any decisions for at least a year after something tragic happens... Maxxton died 5 months ago and in that 5 months I have made more life changing decisions than I did in 4 years! I feel lost and I don't know how to grab ahold of my life!