When The World Shifts.

There are moments in life where the world shifts and you can feel the change.  The moment my daughter was born, the very instant I held her in my arms I felt the shift.  I stopped being me and became so much more; I became a mother.  I became her mother.  My eyes would never view anything in this life the same way again.

When I found out I was pregnant with my son, my daughter was only 6 months old. The world shifted again but this time the change was uneasy, a bit terrifying.  I was anxious with this shift, not sure my heart could love another child the way I loved my girl. 

I was scared I wouldn’t know how to share my love with another baby, “What if I can’t love him the same?  What kind of mother would I be then?” 

My son, my beautiful boy was born and my heart shifted in a way that put all my fears to rest.  I loved him.  Oh, how I loved that little blue-eyed baby boy.  Somehow the heart knows how to adjust, it finds a way to hold infinite amounts of love in a finite space.  The heart is beautiful like that.

As my son grew, my heart—that same heart that surprised me with its capacity to love—was telling me that something wasn’t quite right.  Something’s not right with my son.  There’s something different, something’s not okay.  I could hear my heart whispering to me, I could feel the gentle nudges.  As time went on the nudges turned into a forceful shove.  My world wasn’t shifting, it was turning, faster and faster with each unmet milestone that was passed by. 

I grew closer to my baby boy, our souls were connecting in a way I will never be able to put into words. As our world spun further and further out of control, his soul grabbed ahold of mine and together we had all the balance we needed. He spoke to me through this bond, telling me everything I needed to know without ever saying a word.
— Crissy Dixon

The day I took my son to the hospital to have a tube placed and found out he couldn’t swallow without aspirating, I remember thinking to myself that nothing would ever be the same.  I very distinctly remember feeling the shift. 

Before that moment I was just a worried mother.  I was just a mother with a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right.  I was just a mother who thought something could be wrong but held onto the hope that it was my heart that was mistaken, I was mistaken.   As I stood there by my son’s hospital bed and absorbed the information the doctors were giving me, everything changed.  I changed. 

For a brief moment I felt my world completely stop and I somehow transformed.  Something inside of me died and a new person emerged.  I was no longer just a mother with a feeling.  I was a mother with a purpose: I was going to fight for my son. 

I fought like hell.  Oh, I fought for my little blue-eyed boy with everything I had in me.  My mother’s soul was invincible, I felt.  There was nothing I wouldn’t give or anything I wouldn’t do to protect my son, my soul mate.  But it was never enough.  It never seemed like I could give enough or do enough.  The harder I fought, the more I tried, it seemed like the world would just spin faster and faster out of control. 

I couldn’t grab hold of anything, there was nothing within my reach that would stop this from happening.  I was losing him, slowly.  I felt that in my heart and in my gut.  He was going to die and I knew it.  I knew it and I couldn’t stop it. 

Why couldn’t I just stop it??  A mother is supposed to be able to save her son!

Holding my son as he passed from this life to the next, the world shifted yet again.  My baby boy took his last breath in my arms and I felt his soul release.  Of course I could feel it, his soul was directly connected to mine and I could physically feel the separation, my soul had to let go.  He died and I had to let go.  I had no other choice, he left me and I couldn’t hold on no matter how hard I tried. 

 

In that moment my world wasn’t just shifted, it was completely shattered.  Air escaped my lungs and I haven’t quite found a way to get it back in yet.  I’m walking around in a world I don’t recognize, trying to figure out how to pick up the shattered pieces.  It’s still shifting, my world.  But with each shift the broken pieces get more and more mixed up and I’m desperately trying to not to get myself lost in the wreckage. 

Sometimes I find myself taking paths I shouldn’t or I even stop moving completely, frozen with fear while I try to remember how to breathe.  If I close my eyes and focus on nothing else besides my soul, I can feel his somewhere out there too.  There’s a giant scar where his has been ripped from mine but I can still feel it.  The wounds are still raw but I am still here living, breathing. 

There are moments in life that shape who you are, define you.  The world shifts and you shift with it.  You change because you have to, everything around you is changing and you change too.  The trick is keeping track of your soul, because that’s the only way to keep from losing who you are.

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I Did Not Choose This Journey.

Since my son died almost 15 months ago, I’ve been on a journey.  I didn’t choose this journey.  It began because the Life Path I was on came to an abrupt halt, forcing me to abandon everything familiar and comfortable and find a new route.  A solo route, of sorts. 

You see, my son was my constant companion, the surest compass I’ve ever known.  His life and everything surrounding it may have been full of chaos and unanswered questions, but I was never surer of my purpose as a human being than when I was caring for my beautiful boy.  Every day I was needed and my energy and efforts were specific and direct.  I was caring for my child, in essence keeping him alive.  He could not survive without my constant care, and I was blessed beyond measure to be able to provide that for him as long as I did.  Every morning he awoke to face another day was a humbling experience for me, his mother.  He was leading me through this life, silently guiding me without ever saying a word.  He needed me, yes.   But oh, how I needed him!

The moment he slipped away, although still in my arms, I could feel the change.  My whole world shifted in that moment.  The clarity and sureness of my soul’s purpose suddenly became clouded, like a dense fog slowly rolling in, making it nearly impossible to see. 

I don’t know what to do now, where to go from here….where am I going?  How am I supposed to get there?  How will I find my way?  I don’t even know where I’m going…..what if I don’t want to go??  I walked out the doors of the hospital without my son and my new journey began.  But I had just been stripped of my compass!  What was I supposed to do? 

It felt as if someone had blindfolded me, spun me around in circles and then shoved me out the door and said, “there’s Life….go and live it.  Good luck, you’re on your own!” 

So now I’m here.  I’ve been on a trek…this journey that was forced upon me, I’ve been trying to figure it out, to find my way.  It took me several months to even gather the courage to open my eyes and attempt to peek through the fog.  The air is so thick it sometimes still threatens to suffocate me.  I’m trying to adjust to so many changes… it’s been hard. 

Moving forward into unchartered territory has been somewhat petrifying. Some days I’m still not sure if I’ve even moved at all. I look around me and wonder if I’m in the right place….where am I supposed to be?
— Crissy Dixon

 I’m not lost.  No, I know exactly where I came from and how I got here.  The roads that led me to where I am today have been well-traveled and paved with more Love and Beauty than I know how to describe.  But Pain and Anguish were always traveling not too far behind me.  I knew they were there, could see their reflection in the rear-view mirror. 

As time went on I could feel the gap closing, the distance getting shorter and shorter between us.  I tried to speed up, oh how I tried to lose them!  But like a car running on empty, it wasn't long before I had to pull over and accept the fact that I couldn't go any further.  I had to leave the car behind and start on this new journey on my own. 

It’s terrifying, most days.  Too scared to walk, I began by crawling.  Some days, even that wasn't possible.  Some days, the best I could do was curl up in a ball and wait for another day to pass, for Strength to come and find me and urge me along. 

All along the way I never lost sight of Hope.  I knew that Hope was always somewhere ahead of me, clearing a path for me for when I was ready. 

Today, there are days where I can walk swiftly, powerfully putting one foot in front of the other while I take in the beautiful view around me.  On these days I am amazed at the wonder and possibility that could be lying around each bend in the road. 

On these days I feel my son, my compass, guiding me like he did when he was here in my arms.  I need these days to get me through the rest.  I need these days to help sustain me when I’m in a ball on the floor crying out for everything that once was. 

I can handle crawling blindly through the fog because I know Hope and Strength are out there just beyond my sight, I can still feel them.  I can still feel him, my son.  He is still my compass after all, and I need him now more than ever because really, my journey has just begun.

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