Lexi "The Lion's" Journey

Lexi "The Lion's" Journey 9335264710
Absa account ACC name:
Lexi Trust
Savings The trust account has been set up for Lexi. it is being administered by an accountant.

Lexi is three months old. she has been in hospital for seizures since December. After 2 lumbar punches, 4EEG's, 2MRI's anda barium swallow, Doctors are still unable to give a diagnosis. We need to raise funds in order for Lexi to have specialised genetic testing in hope of figuring all of this out.

What is Normal after your child dies? Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile because your child is missing fr...
19/02/2020

What is Normal after your child dies?

Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile because your child is missing from all the important events in your life.

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 the day your child died, 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 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.

Normal is a heart warming and yet sinking feeling at the sight of something special your child loved.

Normal is having some people afraid to mention your child.

Normal is making sure that others remember your child.

Normal is everyone else eventually going on with their lives.

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 your loss, unless they too have lost a child. Nothing compares.

Normal is realizing you do cry everyday.

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

Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with other grieving parents.

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 asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours.

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 lost.

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."

“If I had known that children die, I would have built you an armored castle so that death would never have reached you. ...
13/02/2020

“If I had known that children die, I would have built you an armored castle so that death would never have reached you. If I had known that children die, I would have paused my life in that moment. If I knew you had angel wings, I would have built some wings to go with you. If I had known you would go so soon, I would have packed my life in your travel suitcase.”

I just miss you. There really is no other explanation for the heaviness felt in my heart. It is as simple and yet as com...
09/05/2019

I just miss you. There really is no other explanation for the heaviness felt in my heart. It is as simple and yet as complicated as that – I just miss you. What I wouldn’t give for one more moment. One more moment to hold you. To look into your eyes and tell you how much you are loved.

What I wouldn’t give to go back in time to the moment where I last held you. Where I was able to kiss you and where I was forced to say goodbye. Because I would relive all the pain of what came after – for just one more moment with you. I would hold you close to my warm skin, with my arms wrapped tightly around you and I would breathe you in. I would soak in that moment all over again, even knowing it would be our last.

What I wouldn’t give to have a second chance. A chance to do things differently even though I know those things couldn’t change the outcome. But I’d do them anyway because I would do anything to try. There are a thousand different versions of how our story could have played out – and this version is the one I didn’t expect. I cannot undo what has already been done – but what I wouldn’t give to try just one more time.

I never knew missing someone could hurt so badly. I never knew that missing someone would change me so irrevocably. I never knew how deep and wide love could flood into my life. I never knew how precious this life was until I met you. I never knew just how much love could hurt until you left. And I never had a clue that the cause of insuperable pain could be narrowed down into four little words – I just miss you.

Your absence has flooded through every part of me. And like a flood, it has left cracks in my foundation. The flood of your absence has obliterated the core pieces of who I once was. It has cracked my heart wide open and my heart has bled with nothing but undying love. And it left me fighting to survive it all. But I would do it all over again.

Because our love is so much more than a flood of your absence. Our love is like a lighting that rushes through me. It has illuminated the darkest parts of me. It ignites my soul and has thundered through my life – pushing me to live a life full of you. For you. Because of you. You – the one who has changed me. The one who has taught me so much about this life and my ability to love with every cell in my body.

For you – I keep breathing, I keep fighting, I keep living. For you – I love more deeply and laugh more freely. For you- I cherish this one life I’ve been given. No matter the amount of pain and heartbreak. For you – because you exist in every corner of my soul. And your name has transcended from the title you were given while you were still here and into a feeling that describes your absence. Because on the days where I just miss you all I can do is utter your name. And when someone asks me what weighs heavy on my heart yours is the name that flows out. Nothing more is needed to describe what it is I am feeling because you are that feeling. The feeling of missing you, loving you, longing for you, and all the feelings in between. You are the reason they are there and you are the reason I feel them so profoundly.

I never wanted any of this. No one ever wants this. But I wanted you. And sometimes no matter how much we want – it isn’t enough to stop the waters from rising and the flood from sweeping into our lives.

So much time has passed and still some days there is a heaviness that weighs me down. I keep searching for the words to explain where it comes from or why it’s there. It feels so complicated yet the only words I can muster are – “I just miss you.” I miss you more than words can say and emotion can express. Everything I do has been washed by the waters of your absence. Even my heart beats to a steady rhythm of you and its echo rings through the space where you used to be. I have never known so much love, so much joy, and so much heartbreak, until you. And some days the only explanation for the suffocating pain that still lingers on is…

I just miss you.

The best way I can describe grieving over a child as the years go by is to say it’s similar to carrying a stone in your ...
05/05/2019

The best way I can describe grieving over a child as the years go by is to say it’s similar to carrying a stone in your pocket.

When you walk, the stone brushes against your skin. You feel it. You always feel it. But depending on the way you stand or the way your body moves, the smooth edges might barely graze your body.

Sometimes you lean the wrong way or you turn too quickly and a sharp edge pokes you. Your eyes water and you rub your wound but you have to keep going because not everyone knows about your stone or if they do, they don’t realize it can still bring this much pain.

There are days you are simply happy now, smiling comes easy and you laugh without thinking. You slap your leg during that laughter and you feel your stone and aren’t sure whether you should be laughing still. The stone still hurts.

Once in a while you can’t take your hand off that stone. You run it over your fingers and roll it in your palm and are so preoccupied by it’s weight, you forget things like your car keys and home address. You try to leave it alone but you just can’t. You want to take a nap but it’s been so many years since you’ve called in “sad” you’re not sure anyone would understand anymore or if they ever did.

But most days you can take your hand in and out of your pocket, feel your stone and even smile at its unwavering presence. You’ve accepted this stone as your own, crossing your hands over it, saying “mine” as children do.

You rest more peacefully than you once did, you’ve learned to move forward the best you can. Some days you want to show the world what a beautiful memory you’re holding. But most days you twirl it through your fingers, smile and look to the sky. You squeeze your hands together and hope you are living in a way that honors the missing piece you carry, until your arms are full again.

- Author unknown, with special thanks to Valerie Jones

Happy Easter sweet Baby... This would have been your second Easter but instead it's the first one without you😢 you are m...
22/04/2019

Happy Easter sweet Baby... This would have been your second Easter but instead it's the first one without you😢 you are missed every day by all of us... PA and Nanna went to a Good Friday Memorial service, and they added your name to a tile. Aswell as Nanas daddy's name..
You are forever remembered and always loved... ♥️♥️♥️😢😢😢

I just miss you. There really is no other explanation for the heaviness felt in my heart. It is as simple and yet as com...
25/03/2019

I just miss you. There really is no other explanation for the heaviness felt in my heart. It is as simple and yet as complicated as that – I just miss you. What I wouldn’t give for one more moment. One more moment to hold you. To look into your eyes and tell you how much you are loved.

What I wouldn’t give to go back in time to the moment where I last held you. Where I was able to kiss you and where I was forced to say goodbye. Because I would relive all the pain of what came after – for just one more moment with you. I would hold you close to my warm skin, with my arms wrapped tightly around you and I would breathe you in. I would soak in that moment all over again, even knowing it would be our last.

What I wouldn’t give to have a second chance. A chance to do things differently even though I know those things couldn’t change the outcome. But I’d do them anyway because I would do anything to try. There are a thousand different versions of how our story could have played out – and this version is the one I didn’t expect. I cannot undo what has already been done – but what I wouldn’t give to try just one more time.

I never knew missing someone could hurt so badly. I never knew that missing someone would change me so irrevocably. I never knew how deep and wide love could flood into my life. I never knew how precious this life was until I met you. I never knew just how much love could hurt until you left. And I never had a clue that the cause of insuperable pain could be narrowed down into four little words – I just miss you.

Your absence has flooded through every part of me. And like a flood, it has left cracks in my foundation. The flood of your absence has obliterated the core pieces of who I once was. It has cracked my heart wide open and my heart has bled with nothing but undying love. And it left me fighting to survive it all. But I would do it all over again.

Because our love is so much more than a flood of your absence. Our love is like a lighting that rushes through me. It has illuminated the darkest parts of me. It ignites my soul and has thundered through my life – pushing me to live a life full of you. For you. Because of you. You – the one who has changed me. The one who has taught me so much about this life and my ability to love with every cell in my body.

For you – I keep breathing, I keep fighting, I keep living. For you – I love more deeply and laugh more freely. For you- I cherish this one life I’ve been given. No matter the amount of pain and heartbreak. For you – because you exist in every corner of my soul. And your name has transcended from the title you were given while you were still here and into a feeling that describes your absence. Because on the days where I just miss you all I can do is utter your name. And when someone asks me what weighs heavy on my heart yours is the name that flows out. Nothing more is needed to describe what it is I am feeling because you are that feeling. The feeling of missing you, loving you, longing for you, and all the feelings in between. You are the reason they are there and you are the reason I feel them so profoundly.

I never wanted any of this. No one ever wants this. But I wanted you. And sometimes no matter how much we want – it isn’t enough to stop the waters from rising and the flood from sweeping into our lives.

So much time has passed and still some days there is a heaviness that weighs me down. I keep searching for the words to explain where it comes from or why it’s there. It feels so complicated yet the only words I can muster are – “I just miss you.” I miss you more than words can say and emotion can express. Everything I do has been washed by the waters of your absence. Even my heart beats to a steady rhythm of you and its echo rings through the space where you used to be. I have never known so much love, so much joy, and so much heartbreak, until you. And some days the only explanation for the suffocating pain that still lingers on is…

I just miss you

When someone you love has experienced the loss of a child, it’s hard on everyone. They are engulfed in a sea of unbearab...
24/02/2019

When someone you love has experienced the loss of a child, it’s hard on everyone. They are engulfed in a sea of unbearable pain and grief and sorrow while you may be struggling to stand beside them, wondering what to say, what to do, and what they need.

You love them dearly, but you don’t really know what they are going through and you don’t know what to do.

Maybe you’re grieving too.

Maybe you’re suffering as you witness their suffering.

Maybe you feel helpless.

Maybe you find yourself saying all the wrong things because you don’t know what else to say.

Maybe you want to love them through this, but no one taught you how to do that.

It’s ok.

Most of us don’t really know how to navigate this thing called grief. They don’t teach Grief 101 in high school (although, perhaps they should!).

In an ideal world, your heartbroken loved one would be able to say, “Here, this is what I need. This is how you can help me.”

Unfortunately, that’s generally not how it works. They have been crushed by a devastating loss and, chances are, they’re giving everything they have to simply get out of bed in the morning. Trying to articulate what they need and what kind of support they want probably feels next to impossible.

Fortunately, loving a grieving friend or family member isn’t as complicated as it can seem. Generally, it’s simply about being a compassionate and kind human.

Here are seven ways to love someone who is grieving their child:
1. Show Up

First and foremost, show up. Be here.

Show up at their door. Run errands for them. Do their laundry. Make them meals and sit with them to ensure they eat (many times in early grief people lose their appetite and don’t eat regularly). Lay on the bed and hold them while they cry.

Continue to show up for months or years – this is a lifetime loss and they will need you for a lifetime. Text them. Call them. Send cards. Remember birthdays and anniversaries of their child’s life.

Help them plan birthday parties and holiday remembrances and show up for death anniversaries. Mark them on your calendar so you don’t forget – because they won’t. And they won’t forget those who show up for them.

You will likely say or do the wrong thing at some point. It happens. But if you are willing to keep showing up and work through the discomfort, that’s what will matter. That’s how you’ll help.

2. Be Patient

Grief is not short lived. Nor is it linear or simple or logical.

Grieving a child takes a lifetime. We love our children for a lifetime and we will grieve them for a lifetime. Society likes to tell us that after a certain period of time, grief should be completed and we should be ready to find “closure” and “move on.”

To be quite honest, if you buy into that way of thinking, you will struggle to be able to support your loved one as long as they will need you to.

Your friend or family member will grieve far longer than you will want to hear about it or be around for it. This is where they will need you to be patient and understanding.

Those who grieve their child(ren) will eventually find a way to live with that grief and that aching hole in their life, but they will never stop missing their child or longing to hold them. Birthdays and holidays and anniversary dates may be painful and challenging for the rest of their life.

When you find yourself tiring of their grief or wanting them to “get over it already,” remember – they are far, far more exhausted and sick of grieving than you can even imagine. This is when they need you most to keep showing up.

3. Listen

While you might be struggling to know what to say, it’s likely your loved one really just wants someone who will listen.

Really, truly listen.

To their fears. To their grief. To their doubts and guilt and regrets and questioning. To the part of them that feels like they’ve failed their children. To their anger and their rage at the injustice of their children’s lives being cut short. To the urges of grief that make them feel crazy and abnormal.

Let those you love simply talk with you and be heard without judgment or false optimism. Don’t try to fix it or to help them feel something different – just listen.

Listen and when you want to object to something they are saying or inject your own thoughts, stay silent and listen even more.

Listen and then simply tell them that you love them and you are here.

4. Forgive

Here’s the honest truth: For a while, your friend or family member isn’t going to be a terribly great friend or family member.

They probably won’t always show up for holiday celebrations or birthdays or fun outings. They’ll probably forget your birthday and anniversary and other special occasions. They may not feel up to attending baby showers and children’s birthdays or being around babies and kids at all (this particular thing might last for years).

In that first year after their child died especially, they will probably forget things you told them or make plans and either forget about them or cancel at the last minute because they just couldn’t get out of bed that day.

When you complain about every day matters like being tired or your child acting up or the annoying co-worker you can’t stand, they may not engage in the conversation the way they used to or may tell you that you’re overreacting.

It’s not that they don’t care about your difficulties, it’s simply that what they’ve experienced is so overwhelmingly huge everything else feels small and meaningless in comparison.

So, when they can’t be the friend or family member you remember or want them to be, forgive them. They’re still learning how to navigate life after the entire landscape has changed – not unlike being dropped in a foreign land with no map and no way to communicate.

5. Get to Know Them

However long you may have known your loved one or how well you might have known them, be prepared to get to know them all over again.

The loss of a child changes us in irrevocable ways.

Your friend or family member isn’t the person they once were and they will never fully be that person again. Grief has forged them into someone new.

Don’t be surprised if they don’t respond to things the way they once would have or if they suddenly aren’t interested in things they used to love or if the beliefs about the world they used to hold so dear are ones they cannot abide by anymore.

No, they won’t be the person you remember and loved so very much. Grief will change and morph them into someone new – and even that will change and morph again over time.

But don’t give up on them too quickly. They may not be the person you knew, but you might really love the person they have and are becoming.

Take time to get to know the new post-loss them.

6. Remember

Finally, if you do nothing else, remember with them.

Help them remember their child through the years and comfort them with the knowledge that their child has not and will not be forgotten.

Share memories with them. Say their child’s name. Remember their child’s birthday. Honor them on the holidays and for Mother’s and Father’s day. Donate in their child’s name. Read articles like this one and discuss it with your friend or family member.

Give your loved one the gift of remembering their child. It’s the greatest gift you can give.

And above all else, love them. Love them so deeply and openly and clearly, they can’t help but feel it radiating from you.

They need you and they need that love.

7. Love them fiercely.

God made a sweet childa child who never grew oldHe made a smile of sunshineHe molded a heart of pure gold.He made that c...
28/01/2019

God made a sweet child
a child who never grew old
He made a smile of sunshine
He molded a heart of pure gold.
He made that child as close to an angel
as anyone ever could be
God made a Sweet Child
and He gave that dear child to me
Then God saw His wonderful creation
growing very tired and weak
so He wrapped the child in His loving arms
and said, "You my child I keep"
But now my Sweet Child is an angel
Free from hurt and pain
I'll love you forever, until we meet again
So many times I have missed you
So many times I have cried
If all my love could have saved you
Sweet Child you never would have died.

Dear Mommy,I know you have a hard time facing each day without me, struggling to make sense of my death. I see you cry b...
16/10/2018

Dear Mommy,

I know you have a hard time facing each day without me, struggling to make sense of my death. I see you cry before bed each night and in your car on the way to work. I’m so sorry.

I’m sorry I had to leave so soon. I didn’t want to leave you, but please know that although you cannot see me, I am never far away.

Those chills you get when you are all alone, it’s me giving you a hug. I’m still here. I’m right here. Those beautiful rainbows that stop you in your tracks. It’s me saying hello. Those butterflies that flutter around you. It’s me reminding you’re not alone.

I hear you say goodnight to me as you drift to sleep each night. You can’t hear me, but I whisper “goodnight” back. I wish you could hear me whisper “I love you” every day.

I know you miss me with every breath you take. That every joyful moment is also filled with sadness and wonder. The wonder of what I would be like, what I would look like, what I would become. I wish you could see me now. I’m happy. I’m free.

I want you to know that I’m okay. I’m at peace now. I know it’s not easy to get through the days, but you keep on going, bringing me with you every step of the way. Thank you, Mommy.

I know one of your biggest fears is that people will forget about me. They haven’t forgotten. You keep my memory alive. You say my name and tell my story. I live on through you.

I’m so proud that you are my Mommy. You are so brave, so kind, so loving. Although our time together was short, you always took care of me. Protected me. Loved me. You are such a good Mommy.

Don’t question if I knew how much you loved me, I knew. I can still feel your love, it reaches me all the way in heaven.

I know there are days that you think you can’t keep going. Days that you can’t wait to join me, just so you can hold me and kiss me one more time. I know how much you long for that day, but please keep living. I want you to live, to smile, to feel joy. You don’t need to feel guilty when you’re happy. I like to see you smile. I love the sound of your laugh.

Please keep going. Keep carrying me with you in all that you do. I promise I’m here. I’m waiting here for you. I will always be with you, sending my love from heaven, until you can hold me again.

Don’t let go, Mommy. I live on through you. I’m a part of you. I love you.

Dear Mom,I am still here. I am here for you when desperation creeps in between the spaces of our new realities. I am not...
07/10/2018

Dear Mom,

I am still here. I am here for you when desperation creeps in between the spaces of our new realities. I am not gone. Every tear you shed, I collect it. I gather the rain, and to each drop I give life to the memories you and I have shared. I step into your dreams when you least expect it, and if you look hard enough, you can find me there.

Say my name. Remember me in the quiet moments. They will sustain you when the world intrudes and tries to drown out the sound of the conversations that you still have with me when you think no one else is listening. I am still here.

Mom, my soul is quiet now. It no longer yearns for the things my physical body needed to survive this particular battle. It took everything from me, and I know it took everything from you; you will never realize what that did to my spirit when I passed from that life into this one.

I know that you feel like you are losing your mind some days, but when you hear a heartbeat where none should exist, know that it is mine, keeping time with yours.

I am still here. I did exist. I left my mark upon this world, and I am at peace now.

Love,
Lexi💓💓

My Dear sweet LexiToday. Today is your birthday. Your daddy and I remember last year so well. Holding you for the first ...
04/10/2018

My Dear sweet Lexi

Today. Today is your birthday. Your daddy and I remember last year so well. Holding you for the first time. Seeing those chubby cheeks. Oh my. How gorgeous you were... My little Lexi. Today. Today should have been different. There should have been cake. Balloons. Gifts. Laughter. Most importantly, you should have been with us.. And you are not. Your absence is noticed. We miss those little duck sounds. We miss those big blue eyes. We miss those chubby thighs. I even miss the emergency room visits. My sweet baby girl.. We only had you for a short time. In that short time, you changed us all. You taught us all so much.. I just wish we had more time. I love you endlessly baby girl. And the longing for you grows more and more every day. Happy birthday sweet little Lexi. You are loved forever

Oh little lion... A year ago you were still safe in mommy's belly... A year ago, we were counting down the last days til...
23/09/2018

Oh little lion... A year ago you were still safe in mommy's belly... A year ago, we were counting down the last days till we would hold you for the first time.. None of us ever ever thought we would be where we are now... You are loved... You are missed. So missed.. We hold you in our hearts little lion... You are safe there

It's been two months...And I realised the other night that we all lost so much more than just a baby....We lost the chan...
30/07/2018

It's been two months...
And I realised the other night that we all lost so much more than just a baby....
We lost the chance to hear her laugh. We'll never have the chance to see her sit up all on her own or to start crawling... we'll never see those first uncertain steps... we won't get to plan her first birthday party... we won't drive from school to school trying to figure out which is the best for her... we won't see mud on those chubby cheeks. Or the joy in her eyes the first time she sees bubbles... there will never be a first haircut. Or a first ponytail... there will never be a first day of primary school or a photo in her first school uniform... we will never get to hear her recant stories of her days at school or her first crush... we will never have the first valentines day where she wants to get something for someone.... we will never have the teenage years and all the insecurities... I'll never get to hear about your first kiss or your first heart break... there won't be all the excitement over a dress for a valentines dance... there will be no late nights of just girl talk... no shopping and taking forever just to find something you like (especially if you are anything like your mommy) I will never get to show you how to put on make up... or tell you that, that boy is just not worth it... no seeing the sea for the very first time...there will never be a matric dance or anything like that... we didn't just lose a baby... we lost a lifetime of memories and adventures... we lost so much more when we lost you my sweet sweet baby girl... you will forever be loved...

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