Hello,

I lost my son, Christian, almost 4 months ago. I guess I am coping ok, if there is such a thing. I keep on hoping that things will get easier, and perhaps they do. Moreover, I just think things become a little more different - a little bit farther from his passing, and our lives together.

When Christian first fell ill, we were in the process of selling our house and building a new house. We closed on the house we were selling the first week Christian was admitted. The timing of his illness was a godsend in some ways - I don't if I could have faced the nursery we had so lovingly decorated only a year and a half before. Our new house is sort of a symbol of carrying on, I guess. The house will have one wall with lots of windows, which I plan to fill with all of the plants we recieved at the funeral - taking care of the plants is kind of cathartic - I miss having someone to take care of so badly.

Ryan's dad and I are getting married - on what would have been Christian's 2nd birthday, October 13th, in 2 weeks. Planning the wedding on a dime, and in a rush has been a great distraction. It will be nice to have another reason to celebrate on the 13th - rather than sitting around and dwelling on all that we will miss.

I am a middle school art teacher. My students are wonderful - even the naughty ones - they keep every day fresh and new, and it was great to return to them in September. On a sad and scary note, one of my sweet 8th grade girls was diagnosed with a lump in one of hers lungs last week, she is scheduled this week to have it removed...the doctors are not very optimistic, from what her mother says. Another was diagnosed with metabolic issues and requires an organ transplant, yet another was hospitalized after being run over by a car...dealing with these situations has been very difficult, and at the same time, I feel more able to deal with them than I could have ever possibly been a year ago. The year Christian was born was called "the year of the baby" at our school, as 7 of us were pregnant. It is difficult to hear stories of my coworker's children, since we are now childless. We do look forward to having more kids in the very near future, and that helps to keep us going.

And some days are just hard. I start thinking, or look at pictures, or hear other's struggles, or learn of another young victim, and it just hits. And I cry, and cry...which is ok. It reminds me that I am human, and that I can still feel. I'm not numb, which I was for a time, and that was much worse. Doing fundraising and lobbying work for Curesearch and St. Jude's has been helpful, although sometimes I just get very angry with Virginia's senator's for their failure to co-sponsor the impending bills that would give desperately needed money to childhood cancer research. Venting on my caringbridge site now and then also helps. There is a tear stained printout of photos of Christian's happy smiles, and piercing dark eyes that I regularly glance at beside our sofa. It's hard to believe that little warm body is no longer alive to love and hug...

All in all, I would say the changing of old routines, and setting of new goals - things to look forward to, has been our "medicine". That and our faith of course - which has been tested, but overall gotten stronger.

Don't know if that helps, but it helped me to vent a bit, so thank you for asking!

Marcy