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CYG – Day 6

CYG – Day 6: Books

Today we are supposed to share books that have helped us along the way. After the accident so many people gave us books. I haven’t opened one of them, I couldn’t, still can’t. I’m just not there yet. I have found the most comfort from reading others blogs. It’s not polished or edited, but real and raw. I have connected with so many people through blogging and I am so happy to have this outlet for myself as well.

CYG – Day 5

CYG – Day 5: Empathy

So often as bereaved parents we talk about all of the things that people shouldn’t say, shouldn’t do. We are so consumed with our own grief that I think we often forget that others just don’t know how to deal with us or that they have problems of their own. I will be the first to admit that I have become selfish. I have become completely self centered in my grief, where my pain is the worst pain imaginable. Every once in awhile I will read something that reminds me that us grieving parents aren’t the only ones that got the shaft and it brings me back down to Earth. That being said, here are the things that you COULD say and you COULD do for someone that has lost a child:

Talk about their child! Not talking about them is way worse!!
Be there in whatever capacity you can.
Don’t talk, listen.
Instead of telling the bereaved to call you if they need you, just show up. They will not call!
Help with arrangements if you can. No one wants to plan a funeral for a child, least of all the parents.
See if you can help organize something in the child’s memory. A scholarship, a garden, etc.

CYG – Day 4

CYG – Day 4: Light & Dark

This is an interesting topic for me because it’s something that I deal with daily between Benny and Fletcher. I’ve written before that I don’t know where one begins and one ends sometimes. I think any parent that has a child of one gender and then goes on to have another probably confuses the memories, calls the child by the wrong name, etc. What makes it even harder is the resemblance between the boys. When Darcy was born she had black spiky hair and looked like Parker (obviously that changed), but both boys came out blonde and looking like Darcy and I.

Benny’s a little older than Fletch in the photos, but the resemblance is there. My mother in law had a photo at her house and Parker and I weren’t sure which child it was. I’ve decided this is a good thing and to go with it. Fletch certainly has his own (whiny) personality that sets him apart from his brother.

There are days when it’s hard though, when I’m exhausted and covered in spit up and I think to myself, my goodness, would we be dealing with this infant stuff again if Benny were here? Would we really have had more kids? It’s hard not to get really angry in those moments, to not think we’d past all of this and dealing with 3 year old stuff instead. I’m being brutally honest here. Now, I would never wish that Fletch wasn’t here and after all that we went through to have him, I know how lucky that we are. Those moments are rare and fleeting, and I wish it wasn’t always one or the other, but that we could have them both here together.

This is my dark. My one or the other. It sucks. I could never choose between my boys, I love them both so much. It was never my choice in the first place. Some days it feels like a choice though. When I realize that the day has passed and I haven’t spent any real time thinking about Benny, but I spent the whole day with Fletch. The guilt is insane. I haven’t been to the cemetery since Fletch was born. I’m working on figuring out how to have both exist in my life. It’s this weird balancing act that always seems out of whack.

Fletcher is my light, he is my happiness and my hope. I would do anything in the world to see him smile or get a chuckle out of him. There is nothing that I love more than to snuggle that little man or see him interacting with Darcy. He has brought so much life into this family. He has brought so much happiness into my life.

How do they coexist together? How do I grieve when I am so happy? Anyone that thinks having another child after yours is deceased makes it easier is dead wrong. It makes it complicated, because Fletcher’s life will always be intertwined with Benny’s death. It’s so hard to grieve and feel joy simultaneously and that’s what I’m struggling with.

CYG – Day 3

Day 3 – In Honour

I started this blog in honor of our son Bennett. I spend a lot of time on this blog talking about grief, anger, hope, etc. but today is all about Bennett. I’ve written bits and pieces about him here and there, so I’m thinking today that I’ll share some stories.

About a week or so before the accident, we were having some family time in the living room. Parker and I were sitting on the couch and Benny was in his climbing stage. He kept climbing on the coffee table and looking at us with that Fletcher twinkle in his eye looking for our reaction. After about the third time of this Parker decided to turn the table on it’s side. He looked at Benny and said ‘good luck!’ Well, not to be outdone, Benny climbed right onto the table on it’s side while Parker just started shaking his head.

When Benny first started walking in the summer of 2013, he would run from his bedroom to the bathroom at night for his shower with Darcy (baths weren’t an option with this child). He’d do his little naked dance and inevitably pee the entire way. It got so every night I would follow him with a towel. Darcy finally turned and looked at me one day and said, ‘Mom, why don’t you just put him on the toilet?’ (duh). So we started every night and that kid would go. He was only 15 months when this started, but he would actually use the toilet and figured out how to hold it until then so that I wasn’t cleaning pee off the floor every night.

Benny was a pretty calm little guy as far tempers go. With Darcy things were often a battle of wills, with Benny it was just so much easier. He was a very mild baby too, didn’t really cry for the first 6 months. As a toddler, he was usually very happy and pretty easy to parent (as far as attitudes go). It was rare for him to throw a tantrum, but when he did it was hilarious! I would often have to look away and laugh as he would get onto the floor in frustration.

Benny was a dream baby. He slept through the night early on, he rarely ever cried and was SO even tempered. There were days that I would panic that there was something wrong with him, Darcy had been so spirited from birth. Benny was my snuggler. He would find that spot on your shoulder in your neck and just settle in. He was a terrible napper, but just so happy all of the time. I was so lucky to have had such an easy going baby.

Capture Your Grief

Ok, so I’m starting off this year’s ‘Capture Your Grief’ late. I’m exhausted, having just walked 60+ miles in Philly and then hopped in the car to arrive home and deal with 2 kiddos alone in the middle of the night. Parker is still down in Philly for some car stuff for the week. If things seem disjointed, bitchy or all over the place, this week, you’ll kniw it’s because I’m holding down the fort alone this week. But I digress.

This is supposed to be a photo exercise, but I found the topics lend themselves to writing as well. When I’m done, I want to go back and see this years CYG against last years. How have I grown? Where do I seem stuck? Grief is a process.

CYG-Day 1: Sunrise

Day 1 is supposed to be a sunrise picture. I never would have taken one before because I was not a morning person. Over the last few weeks I’ve been carving out ‘me time’ early in the morning to get some training walks in. I thought I would hate it, boy was I wrong! I love being able to get outside and plan my day in my head before anyone else in the house is even awake. I feel so spoiled having that time to myself first thing in the day. I’m enjoying the fresh air and how it helps me to sleep better at night. So, no, I do not have a sunrise picture per se, but more of a daily sunrise exercise/meditation to start my day off right.

CYG-Day 2: Intention

This is a tough one for me to answer because there is always so much that I want to do and never enough time. So here’s a list to try to simplify. I intend to honor Bennett’s memory by:

-Continuing to work with The Greg Hill Foundation to raise money for other families affected by tragedy

-Loving my husband, even when I don’t want to (just trying to be honest here)

-Spending more time playing with my children and less time doing housework, using cell, etc.

-Continuing to talk about Bennett with family and friends

-Trying to be a more patient and kind person. I’ve spent too much time caring what others think and sweating the small stuff.

I’m gonna love you

I just heard this song for the first time tonight and I’m a puddle. Such powerful lyrics with a message that I know all too well.

Memory

Another thing that comes along with grief is lack of memory. Again, I don’t know if you just stop paying attention to everything or if you just don’t care anymore. I always prided myself on having an excellent memory. Parker’s has always been terrible (unless it’s driving directions or automobile related), so I’ve always had to depend on my own memory to keep everything straight. Sure I had a calendar and reminders on my phone, but once I wrote something down, I committed it to memory too.

I’m better than I was a year ago, but it’s as if the memory part of my brain broke and whoever put it back together again forgot a part. It feels like I can no longer store or process all of the ‘stuff’ that goes on daily. The fogs lifted a bit, but I still can’t see clearly.

This is why I needed to blog all of my Benny memories before Fletch was born because I was so scared I would forget or get the boys confused. I still so frequently call Fletch Benny and I’m scared that I will interlace their babyhoods and confuse them. I needed that written history to keep them separate.

This is why Fletch still sleeps in our room. I’m scared to move him into Benny’s room. Sure, the crib has been down for awhile (Darcy’s using it as a headboard) and sure it’s cluttered with baby crap, but it also holds my Benny memories. His name is still up on the wall and his clothes are still in the dresser. It’s the one part I cannot bring myself to change.

It was so hard cleaning out his room last winter. We really hadn’t been in there much since the construction started, but I needed to start sorting baby items. Well, mice had gotten in through the attic opening, so I knew it was time to take down the crib and do a thorough cleaning. We gave Darcy the crib as a headboard and were making good headway until we happened upon hid shoes. I was alone when that happened and just lost it and knew that there was no way I could touch his dresser.

I’ve gone through all of his old clothes from birth to 24 months and have bags full that will someday get made into blankets for us. I couldn’t put Fletcher in them, thank goodness we have friends that have hand me downs. His dresser still sits full with the clothes that were in there the day he died. Untouched now for nearly 23 months.

I don’t know what to do about it. I’m afraid if I move Fletch into that room then I will lose my Benny memories, or confuse them with Fletcher memories. Fletch could probably use his own space. My therapist says I should split the room and try to make space for both, but it’s such a small room and I don’t think there’s room for another dresser. Besides, I’m nothing if not practical and it will make me nuts to have a dresser that we don’t use in such a small space.

So instead the room sits empty. I have no answers. We made that room for Benny when he was born. He didn’t move in until he was 6 months old because it took us so long to finish, but it’s his room. I don’t want new memories in there to cloud my memories of him.

We hope to move eventually, but for the short term, there are no answers. Benny bunked with us for 6 months, I suppose that gives me roughly 3 more months to try and figure this out.

Meh

One of the things you commonly read about concerning grief is the lack of energy that you feel, how the grief can just zap you and leave you feeling empty. I’ve been feeling that way for nearly 2 years now.

I am one of the lucky ones that has a baby that sleeps pretty well (way better than his siblings slept). I have a very independent 6 year old that is willing to do just about anything to help me out. Parker would do anything for me. Why am I still so damn exhausted??

I used to have energy! I used to be super busy! I used to work 30 hours a week! I’m not sure if this whole thing has just forced me to slow down, if I just don’t care anymore, or if the grief is bleeding me dry. I used to be a machine, I was on top of everything, now it feels as if everything is on top of me. Most of the time it doesn’t even bother me, which is scary!!

It’s the ‘grief me’. This person that doesn’t get very stressed or bogged down. I used to love getting involved in the details, now I can take or leave it.

I’m not sure who this person is anymore. Pieces of me are fading away. Things I always wanted to do no longer interest me. I don’t think that I’m depressed in the clinical sense, just feeling meh about things. Maybe meh is OK for now. Maybe meh is my new black. I’m not sure it fits me, but who is ‘me’ now anyway? All of that changed when Benny died.

So for now, I’m just rolling with it. Maybe I’m not going to set the world on fire right now and that’s OK. At least it is right now in my ‘meh’ stage. Perhaps I should have had more meh in my life before. Maybe this is normal.

No Reason

Everything Does NOT Happen For A Reason

I love this article. It so clearly defines my feelings on this topic that I have shared many times.

Breathe

Everyday I write a new post in my head. If they could just invent something that could interpret my tjoughts to the written word, I would be so relieved.

There is much going on, so much happening. I’ve forgotten how hectic life is with an infant. I’ve forgotten how stressful it is to get Darcy out the door in the morning for school. It’s time to sign up for dance and girl scouts and I just want it to all pause so that I can catch my breath. I want to enjoy this time with the kids, but it’s been go, go, go.

I need the release that writing brings for me. It’s akin to walking/training for the 3 Day. My aunt once asked if I attended church and I told her that walking with my ladies was my church. It bring me inner peace. So does writing.

A month ago I committed to training for the 3 Day and eating healthy. I have since started getting up early (perish the thought) abd walking 3 miles every morning. I have so much more energy and I’m bone tired at the end of the day. I’m sleeping!! I’ve enjoyed cooking and baking with all of our fresh veges fron the garden. I used to hate making dinner, now I could spend hours in the kitchen with Darcy whipping up our healthy creations.

Now I need to commit to writing again. I need to get it all out of my head so that I can sift through and process what is happening. To say that this has been a confusing road would be an understatement. It’s a hard balance between joy and sorrow some days and trying to figure out what I am truly feeling. Even as I type this with my perfect second son sighing besides me, I miss Bennett so much more. The common theme now is ‘why can’t we have both boys?’ Parker and I say it all of the time. It often feels like it was one or the other, as if we made a choice, as if we could, as if we would ever want to.

It feels so right, yet so wrong all at once. It’s hard to put into words. It’s as if Fletcher being here has confused things, sharpened the loss. I remember when Darcy was born that I felt like I lost my mom all over again. This feels similar. I want him back so badly.