Having said that, the days didn't completely suck. Thanksgiving was nothing special. I cleaned and put up the Christmas tree, Jim napped on the couch, Keira stole candy canes before I could even get them on the tree...nothing out of the ordinary really.
Thanksgiving and Tyler's birthday have come and gone. I wish I could say that it was good or bad, but really, after 3 years, it's such a gray area. There are so many positives to Tyler's birthday, I mean, he MADE me a mommy! He gave me the experiences that define being a mom, taught me so much about life, love, God... Yet, the feeling that lingers the most intensely, is the longing for what I don't have anymore. When I hear "look on the bright side" or "concentrate on the positives" or something equally naive, I can't help but shake my head. No amount of positive thinking will make the hole in my heart smaller. No matter how grateful I am for what I DO have, it doesn't change the fact that something so important to me isn't here. When you lose a parent and the surviving parent remarries, does that mean you (or the surviving parent) miss your loved one any less? No, it means you've learned to live with what IS while grieving what WAS. It's the same thing with losing Tyler. As happy as I am that he lived, I'm still really freaking sad that he died. Having said that, the days didn't completely suck. Thanksgiving was nothing special. I cleaned and put up the Christmas tree, Jim napped on the couch, Keira stole candy canes before I could even get them on the tree...nothing out of the ordinary really. We don't go see family for Thanksgiving for a few reasons but the main one being, the year after Tyler was born (I was also pregnant with Keira), we went for Thanksgiving like we had normally done every year. It didn't feel right. We love seeing family, but we felt really "off", like neither of us wanted or felt content being there. I don't know how to describe it, it was just uncomfortable, which is NOT how you should feel on Thanksgiving with family. On our way home that night, we decided that we were going to stay home as a family for that holiday from then on. Now that we live 4 hours away, have a little one and MUCH prefer staying in a hotel (because of our extra baggage with Keira and all her gear), it's too much of a hassle and too expensive anyway, since we will definitely go up there a month later for Christmas. When Jim has time off, we like to spend it as a family since those days are few and far between. Tyler's actual birthday (Monday), started off really well. Keira and I got out of the house early to go grocery shopping and pick up a balloon to release for Tyler. We didn't even get to our subdivision (which is 2 minutes from town) when the balloon popped! I went back and got a new one with no issues and got it home in one, solid piece. :) When Jim got home, we bundled up Keira and went out to release the balloon. It was very sweet and really made me emotional for the day. To be honest, a balloon release is kind of sad. I mean, I went and got it specifically for Tyler's birthday, then we took it outside and watched it blow away in the wind, further and further from us. It's a special balloon, symbolic of him, and we had to watch it leave our hands. It brought back my hardest memory of handing him away at the hospital and watching him leave, knowing I'd never see him on this Earth again. The forever release is really hard on me. When his heart stopped beating, it kind of broke my spirit. It was like, "Damn, this is really it. His life is really over. This is the first step in the rest of my life without him. This sucks." But releasing him from our loving arms and watching the man from the funeral home walk out with him...it's like watching someone walk away with your arm. So surreal. Like "Hey! That's mine!" And I know it's just a balloon and there are millions of them in the world, but we will never see THAT balloon again. I've never heard anyone else describe a balloon release like that, so maybe I'm weird, but that's how it strikes me. The rest of the night was just blah. I didn't really want to talk about how I was feeling (though Jim made sure I knew that he was here to listen, bless his huge heart), I didn't want to look over his pictures, I just felt discontent and wanted to be left alone. I did get lots of cute things from friends on FB, which always warms my heart! As I was talking to a friend the next day, she asked about Tyler (I think my labor and c-section experience, the photographer, etc.) and I got to share some stories about him. I was looking at my computer while talking to her and came across his videos and looked at his pictures again. It felt really nice to have someone ASK about him. I mention or talk about him all the time, but to have someone actually ask was so refreshing and nice. Since she is a newer friend, it also made me realize that most of my friends here don't really know much about Tyler and haven't seen his videos and pictures so I decided to repost his video on FB. I got so many sweet comments and it made me so happy to be able to share him (for the first time for many of those people) again. It brought his memory alive for me and that felt so nice, I feel so alone in my continued grief sometimes.
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This week has been a mix of emotions, frustrations and discontent.
*Another ultrasound (anatomy scan) on Monday with the Perinatologist in Peoria who diagnosed Tyler and gave us the all-clear with Keira. *^^This ultrasound also meant a 3 hour (one way) drive with a 20-month old. Which turned out to be a justified concern because she was a bear on the way there. *We were out of a ton of our normal groceries but somehow missed our "budget meeting" for the week. *Even if we had done the budget, there was no time to go shopping because of the drive on Monday... *We had a painter here all day on Tuesday to fix a spot we didn't like from the backsplash in the kitchen and **paint new baby's (Kimber's) room***. *Thursday (tomorrow) is Thanksgiving. The ultrasound on Monday went very well. The Dr. couldn't believe we drove all the way up there to see him specifically, especially after being told that our baby is healthy. The whole trip was quite a pain in the ass. Jim had to work his facility in the morning, stop by the house and pick up Keira and I, then stop by the main office (which happened to be on the way to Peoria), then finish the 2 hour drive. Keira, naturally, didn't sleep a wink all the way there and threw a full on fit just as we got into Peoria. A tech did the u/s and got some really great pictures. Kimber crossed her feet at the ankles, just like Keira does, and she even had her index finger and thumb on her chin. The Dr. looked at the images and confirmed that we, indeed, are growing a healthy baby girl! To get a clear report from him was very comforting since we trust his opinion so much. And Keira slept most of the way home! All in all, it was a good day, but there was much anxiety leading up to it. The grocery/budget issue was, obviously, not a huge deal. We are big on budgets and having our budget meetings. It gives us a clear plan for the following two weeks and we both like seeing it on paper. The stressful part for me, was not having the time to go. I'm used to being "busy" once or twice per week, but we literally were not home all day on Monday, we had the painter here Tuesday (and the power went out for a couple of hours and I couldn't figure out how to create white noise with something battery-operated for Keira to nap...) and today, I had to wait around for a package that we weren't sure if I'd have to sign for. Thank you, UPS, for showing up at 2 freaking 30 in the afternoon, by the way. Not knowing if I had to sign for the package meant that I also couldn't even take a shower. I should partially blame Jim for this since he wasn't willing to wait until Friday (or whenever their deliveries resumed) if I happened to miss it, but it's easier to blame UPS for their broad delivery time (like cable or satellite). Instead of saying "8am-5pm", why don't they just say, "Wait around at your house all day since we know you have nothing better to do." See this bitchiness? It's been there for a good week and she isn't planning a retreat anytime soon, despite my desperate begging. I realize that UPS (or FedEx, cable, etc) can't give every customer an exact time for every delivery. That's absolutely ridiculous and impossible...but I'm still REALLY annoyed by it. Then, when the dude comes at 2:30, he just left the box on my porch while I ran around the house, trying to keep the dogs from barking and waking Keira. Of COURSE I didn't have to sign for the damn package I waited ALL DAY for. And my sweet baby girl, for whatever reason, was really whiny this morning, which made me want to hunt down a UPS truck and dig through the boxes myself. She does so much better when she has distractions...like a grocery store. Ok, seriously, bitching about today=over! Soooooooooooooo, I don't really know why either of us thought that painting the nursery, while I'm only 21 weeks pregnant, the week of Thanksgiving, was a good idea. I don't know if I really thought the boy-colored room was going to be used for a boy or if it's more of the "we shouldn't get the house ready for a baby because there's a good chance she won't come home". To be honest with myself, there's a better chance that she WILL come home. But I just can't quiet that nagging voice. Maybe it's just there to keep me humble. To remind me that bad things happen everyday. To remind me that, even though we have already endured every parent's worst nightmare, we do not get a "by" for the rest of our lives. Having a room specifically painted for Kimber, throws me out of the shallow pool of denial I had been wading in. I kind of liked the comfort of that pool, even if it was shallow. But it's long gone now, and I have a White Dogwood (light, dusty pink) colored room to prove it. I felt the same way with Keira, like I had no right to expect her to come home. It feels wrong to prepare for a baby when life is so uncertain. I see other people having their baby's nursery complete before they're even in their third trimester and I cringe. You just never know what can happen and the earlier in the pregnancy you are, the better the chances of those fears becoming reality. I'm sounding like a negative Nancy, huh? This is why I hate being pregnant. My brain is constantly fighting with itself. And Thanksgiving is making it so much worse. This holiday is just as significant as Tyler's birthday because it's the blatant reminder of what that day is "supposed to be". People traveling to see family, the grocery store nearly out of Butterball turkeys, the "what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"'s, the anticipation of Black Friday shopping (not for me...I'd rather pay full price than get trampled by crazies)...these all take me back. While everyone I knew was sitting around a table, surrounded by their families, I was on magnesium, getting a catheter, deciding whether to attempt a vaginal delivery or c-section, having a spinal placed and getting ready emotionally to say hello and goodbye at the same time. Feelings of relief and sadness, all rolled into one. I don't talk about it much, but I'll never forget the feeling of calm about the whole situation. Maybe it was just from being naive since it was the first time I was in labor, but there was no panic from either of us. We both just rolled with the punches and did what we had to do, given the info we had. Other than the fact that my baby still died, it was actually a really great experience. My dr.'s and nurses were amazing, my NILMDTS photographer got there in time, Tyler was born alive and crying, we got to see him open his eyes for a moment, his family got to meet him, I snuggled him on my chest all night long, recovery time was quick... We really were blessed with a best-case-scenario for the circumstances, which leads me to my next point. I've been DREADING this day all year. Fellow BLM'S will agree that, although it's a beautiful time of remembrance, we also dread our babies birthday because it's a reminder of another year gone by. Another year farther from our babies. Spiritually, we are another year closer to our babies, though! But our last memories, our sweetest memories, are holding our precious little loves and the more time that passes, the farther we are from that special time. On a larger scale, it's kind of like Rose letting go of Jack at the end of Titanic. She watches as his body sinks into the ocean, further and further from her, and that's how those memories of Tyler fade. Each birthday that passes is grieving another stage that I never got to experience with him. Each new number puts a new face in my head, even though he will always be a baby in my memories. He would be 3 years old. What would he look like? What kind of personality would have blossomed by now? Would he be easy going like Keira, or defiant and stubborn like his daddy? No matter what would have been, he will always be my baby, my only son, my first born, my greatest triumph and my deepest tragedy. |
Brittany ClarkI'm blogging in hopes of reaching out to other parents who have to face the most heartbreaking experience in life. Archives
August 2013
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