Child Loss – Page 11 – Sunshine, Angels and Rainbows

17 Days of Benny – Day 3

Day 3 – Month 3

By 3 months we were calling Benny ‘the dude’. He was still smiling non stop, not really crying and stunned me by rolling over at his 10 week appointment in the doctors office. We had some set backs too though. He had been found to have a slight torticolus (where his neck is stronger on one side than the other) and twitch to his foot that sent us to UMASS for an EEG. All turned out well, but Sandy always said that Benny was the one that would keep us guessing.

He spent lots of time outdoors with Darcy and I that summer and logged many miles in the stroller as I got ready for the 3 Day. Parker followed me along the 60 mile route with both kids. Benny was around 10 weeks old and thank goodness that he was a good nurser because I was able to make through the walk with quick nursing breaks.

During this time we also took our first (as a family of 4) camping trip with Tara and her family. Yes, we slept in a tent and it was like hedonism with all of the naked kids running around. We went swimming in the lake and brought Benny in, who didn’t protest, but seemed to enjoy the cooler water. He was still our super chill dude.

At about this time his mohawk was in full effect too. Both of our children seemed to have the most unruly hair!

17 Days of Benny – Day 2

Day 2: Month 2

Benny was born at the perfect part of the summer. I was so lucky to be able to enjoy time off with both children and be able to be outdoors. In Benny’s second month of life he was able to enjoy his first circus, Fourth of July and his first Father’s Day. For Father’s Day we traveled down to Long Island with my sister’s family so that Benny could meet my father and my other sister.

At that point, Benny was putting on the weight and was a fantastic sleeper. We hit some record heat days in his second month of life, but he was still as chill as ever. Darcy was born with so much piss and vinegar that Benny was a breath of fresh air.

17 Days of Benny – Day 1

Similar to my ‘Capture your Grief’ project back in October, I’ve decided to spend 17 days focusing on Benny’s life instead of his death. When he passed he was 17 months old and his birthday is May 17th, so how fitting. Each day will chronicle a month of his life. It’s time to write this down before it becomes all muddled with my pregnancy brain.

Day 1:

Benny was born in the early morning hours of May 17th, 2012. I’m not sure who was more surprised, Parker or I at the fact that we had a little boy. I think I was more surprised at his wispy blond hair and how much he looked like his sister and me. He weighed in at 7lbs. 13oz. and was 21.5″ long.

Benny was a disaster in the hospital. He had a really tough time with colostrum and was spitting it up as soon as I was able to give it to him. We had to change him almost hourly. It was a little frightening, but once my milk came in he ate like a champ and had no problems putting on weight.

Darcy was the first to meet him and was only 3 1/2 at the time. I can’t even wrap my head around her being so young. She held him like a champ and was super excited once we came home. That all changed pretty quickly once she realized that she wasn’t the ‘main event’ anymore. She had some jealousy, but never took it out on Bennett, but rather me. I did prefer this, but goodness it was tough.

I remember most about those first few days was Benny’s smile. The night we came home from the hospital the little guy gave me his first smile. And this wasn’t just a partial, but a full on smile with dimples. I was shocked. Darcy made us wait 10 whole weeks and here was Bennett just giving them away! He also never cried. When he was hungry he would make what we lovingly called ‘baby noises.’

He was possibly the most laid back baby. Maybe it was because I was more of a laid back momma and this was child #2. We just felt so lucky to have such a chill little dude.

Year Two Reflections – Seasons

A year ago I was dreading Spring. I was quite happy to hibernate indoors. I didn’t want to be reminded of rebirth and growth and new life. I suppose that I still don’t.

Although, this year I’m excited to get outdoors. I want to breathe in fresh cut grass and dig in the Earth. Maybe it was the endless snow, maybe it’s the new street out front of our house, perhaps it’s looking forward to gardening that has me so excited.

Last fall I was told to plant garlic in my garden and it would bloom in the spring. (Thanks for the tip Katie!) I was so depressed after gardening season that this seemed like a great idea. Darcy started back at school and life happened and well, I never got around to it and I regretted it. About a month ago, I noticed the garlic cloves that I had purchased were growing on their own in my pantry. I’ve since potted them and now they’re thriving!

A sign of my little man taking care of things for me once again. A sign he’s never gone, never will be gone. I can’t wait to plant these in his garden.

Sibling Addition & Subtraction

When Darcy was three and a half (almost to the day) we welcomed Benny into the world. Darcy was so excited to have a sibling, not sure about the brother part, but nonetheless a little person to call her own. At three and a half she was super helpful, getting me diapers, wipes, grabbing me stuff while he was nursing and fending more for herself. She truly doted on Bennett and was a loving and caring older sister.

But she was still only three and a half. She was still too young to voice her emotions and how this new baby had affected her place in our family. Because I was the youngest child in my family, I never went through this transition. The night terrors that had disappeared started up again, so Parker was up with Darcy while I was up with Benny. She started giving me a very hard time because I was home on maternity leave with her and Benny throughout the summer. She became physical a few times, hitting, biting, which is not like her at all. She was a frustrated and jealous three and a half year old and expressed it in the only ways she knew how at the time. She very rarely took anything out on Benny, mostly on me or Parker. I think most kids go though an emotional time when a new sibling is born. It’s normal.

We finally got into a groove and she was able to adapt. As Bennett grew older, they played together all of the time. She was the most patient big sister and he rewarded her with his antics that she laughed at. They rarely fought and got along extremely well for siblings. Yes, she tried to control him, mother him, smother him sometimes with affection and rules, but their relationship was one to be envious of. I rarely had to break up a fight. She was happy to share her toys with him and play with him all of the time. She would distract him when I needed to pull something out of the oven. She was an incredible big sister, she was born to nurture others. I’ve never seen two closer siblings.

I now have an almost six and a half year old that has known the emotions that come with accepting a new sibling into their lives and then losing them. I’ve written previously about Darcy’s behavior issues, night terrors and therapy and what an incredible turn around this little girl has made. She is incredibly strong to have made it where she is today as a child. I am so proud to call this little lady my daughter. She is bright, out-going, kind, nurturing and able to own her emotions. It’s been a long road with a lot of work over the past year and a half, but we’ve all grown as a family.

Fast forward to present time. The night terrors have started. The behaviors are ramping up at school (a little) and at home. She is beginning to display her emotions through her behaviors again and not her words. This was easy to watch when she was younger, but she’s going into second grade next year. We just started back to monthly therapy. The first session we went to she was over the top, interrupting, asking tons of questions, trying to run the appointment so that she wouldn’t have to talk about her feelings. Her therapist even said at one point, ‘sheesh I haven’t seen you in a few months and I think you’ve forgotten how to talk about your feelings.’ I can feel the regression going on.

I don’t know if it’s the time of year, because this happened last May before Benny’s birthday too. I have a feeling that she’s struggling big time with the whole new baby, but can’t quite figure out yet how it’s affecting her. I have a child that went from only child, to having and loving a sibling, to only child and now she’s going to have a sibling again. I know that she’s older and the transition to sibling should be easier, but she doesn’t trust it. She actually said to me the other day that she hopes that the new baby doesn’t die too. I tried to explain that what happened to Benny was a freak accident and that it wouldn’t happen again, but I make no promises. I told her that I was pretty sure her brother Fletcher would grow old with her. She’s going through so much of the same feelings as I am. I just want to bubble wrap this little guy to make sure that nothing EVER happens. The difference is that I’m 35 and she’s 6.

It’s making me crazy that she’s going through this. That she’s scared to love Fletcher because of what might happen. That she can’t express herself because she’s too young to truly understand much of it anyway. No child should have to go through this ever. I’m angry. I’m sad. I want so much more for my daughter. She will never just be Darcy again, she will always be the little girl who’s brother died.

Year Two Reflections – Life

Life is getting in my way. In some ways it was easier when I was in the thick of my grief. These little glimpses, these days that pass me by are fine until I look back and think, geez, where did the time go? How is it already April?

I’m dreading May. Not only because we have so much to do in such a short time, but because Benny will have been gone for 18 months, just as long as he was on this Earth. That just seems really unfair to me, a huge turning point. His life feels like a blip in time. How is that possible?

I said to Parker yesterday that I felt like this Easter was the first holiday where I wasn’t overwhelmed with sadness or trying to avoid the feelings. Then I said, well it was the second Easter without Benny, now we’ve had more without him than with him. Cue sadness.

I hate these milestones, this time that keeps marching by. Last year I felt like we were keeping busy. Now we are legit busy. Life happened when I wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t want it to. It swept us along and brought us to today.

I’m now working with Parker more than ever before because he’s so busy. I know that this is a good thing and I’m so happy that he’s able to seriously support us. There’s a sense of satisfaction in having a job again, albeit one on my own terms. I was giddy when our accountant said I did an excellent job with our tax prep this year and we actually got a return. I’m feeling somewhat useful again.

With that comes guilt. I’m busy, I’m not able to focus on all that I’ve lost now all of the time. No matter how silly it may seem, there’s guilt there. There’s also guilt when I’m not contributing, when I feel that the financial burdens are falling on Parker, so I’m trying to take stuff off his plate. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t I suppose. There’s no way to win in this situation.

Yeah, Year 2 sucks.

Year Two Reflections – Work

After the accident, I was fortunate to have a very compassionate and understanding boss and co-workers. They truly did everything in their power to help us out. They showed up ‘en mass’ and brought us food, brought Darcy a ridiculous amount of presents and just supported us in so many ways. They donated vacation time so that I could continue to get paid while we figured out my disability and what my options are. My boss became my friend, never pressuring me to return and always willing to talk to me as a friend first and then as my boss. They continue to be a presence in our lives. I honestly don’t know what we would have done without these people.

About a month ago, I finally left work. I’ve been having nightmares about it for months. It was plaguing me. With not driving so far, there was no way that I could even imagine commuting to Boston every day again. It killed me. I was one of those people that really loved her job. I loved the feeling of control. Now I’m stuck between feeling proud of walking away and sad. Another decision I wanted no part of.

I’m no longer the bread winner. In some ways that’s a nice feeling because the pressure is off and it means that Parker is really able to make a living at something that he loves and is passionate about. I’m so proud of all that he has done and how he has really stepped up. He has taken on more of a role of ‘the boss’ and has less time to really focus on his own work, because he is constantly helping his employees. He’s surprisingly enjoying himself and maybe it was time. I’ve always been involved in the business, but with him so busy, it has taken on a new role. I’m happy to help out accounting, marketing, HR, etc. that he needs. It has also brought back to me a sense of control over something. In the last few months I’ve gotten into a new groove of working from home daily and trying to keep up with the administrative tasks involved in the business. It works for us because Parker and I actually enjoy working together and make a really good team. It probably also helps that I work from home and we both have our own separate responsibilities.

We went on a ski trip with my co-workers about a few weeks ago. This is a yearly trip that my company pulls together and is great little family vacation for us. We went last year and it was tough, but I was still in such a fog. I think this year was harder because I no longer am part of the company. It’s weird to sit there and not be able to talk about projects or clients, to not even know some of the new staff. I had a very uncomfortable start to the day. I realized that this is now the ‘after me.’ The person that no longer works for DPM. When I’m working with Parker, I’m completely content, but then throw back in with my co-workers and I’m sad, I miss it. It’s another reminder of all that we have lost. Another part that I have lost of myself. Damn you Year Two!

Grief Articles

These were sent to me by my friend Tara B. and I wanted to share. It’s some things that I’ve said here and probably some thoughts that I’ve had along the way.

Grieving Mom Request

Pregnancy After Loss

My Thoughts on Year Two

I spent a lot of late nights last year looking for ‘others,’ other moms and dads that were in the same crappy situation as myself. I wanted to understand what we were in for, I wanted to understand how they handled it, I think that i just wanted to understand something.

I very quickly noticed a pattern in those that were further along, year two was harder. I started going to grief meetings and I was being told the same thing, watch out for year two. I couldn’t fathom it. How could it possibly be worse than those first few seconds after Benny was hit? How could it be worse than when we had to tell Darcy that her brother was dead? How could it be worse than it was holding him for the last time???

November 8th, 2014 came and went. We got away to the Cape, I couldn’t be in this house, where it happened. Against all odds, we had a very nice family vacation. We went to the beach and wrote Bennett’s name in the sand as the kids ran around, not fully comprehending what the adults were feeling. We visited the cemetery briefly as it was biting cold that morning and windy on top of the hill where he now lies. Several amazing people sent us beautiful tokens for Benny in the mail.

That weekend I felt contentment. The anxiety of the date came in advance and we dealt with it, but November 8th, 2014 wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I’m sure that the little guy in my belly is a huge part of that, the ability to look forward and hold onto some hope for my future family.

The other side of November 8th, 2014 has been different. It’s as if a line has been drawn in the sand and it’s now ‘time to move on.’ I couldn’t feel more different from that, but it’s the feeling that I get from others. All of a sudden I was expected to make decisions again and start moving forward.

People stopped talking about Benny, they had moved on. It was a subtle cue that I was to do the same. Yes, we still have an amazing support system, it had just gotten much smaller. People stopped asking how we were. The expectation was that we had moved forward, especially because of the new baby. For me, it felt like he foreshadowed Benny’s death, that now everything was OK, because we were having another boy. I don’t think anyone meant it to come off that way, it just has.

One of my close friends said it the best when she said to me that we had time off to grieve, we had therapists to talk to. They had to go back to work the next day, bring their kids to school and daycare, make dinner and lunches. They didn’t get the time to grieve that we did. They didn’t get the chance to wrap their heads around any of it, so they moved on, because that’s what they had to do to survive.

I can understand it, I truly can. I just don’t want to. I want the world to stop turning for everyone else, because it did for us. If that’s selfish of me, so be it. I still cannot give a free pass to those that have disappeared or expected us to move on. A year is not long enough to grieve a child, period.

After a year of shock and numbness, you awaken to see that everyone expects you pick up and move on. They want you back the way you were, which will never truly happen. You all of a sudden have to make some large, life changing decisions that you have been avoiding over the past year. The biggest decision, is who are you going to be now, how will this child’s death affect your life? How on Earth are you supposed to move forward? And how do you do it when you feel like the world is judging you for still grieving the child that you’ve lost?

Yeah, maybe year two is harder.

Replacement

Someone close to us actually tried to explain away my miscarriage in the Fall. I got the whole, ‘oh it happened for a reason, and if it didn’t, you wouldn’t have this baby,’blah blah blah. I probably could have been a little more rational if this happened before Benny, but I honestly wanted to cause this person bodily harm when they said what they said. I ‘uh huh’-ed them and moved on.

This really bothers me, because a baby is a baby and hope is hope. If anyone ever says this about Benny, that we wouldn’t have this new baby if it weren’t for his death, they probably will be hurt. One life cannot replace another. We didn’t ever consider having another child to try to ‘make up’ for Benny’s loss. If anything, his loss makes this whole thing that much harder.

Parker and I talk constantly about the what if’s. What if he looks like Benny? What if he acts like Benny? Will he be as smart as Benny? What will our relationship be with him? Will we put him in Benny’s clothes (probably not), so what will we do with those clothes now? Do we try to put the baby in his old room? Does Darcy really understand any of this? Do we want her to? What stuff is off limits here?

There are no right answers. I’m constantly burdened by what is the right thing to do for our family. I’m sure that there will be plenty of judgment (there has been already). As excited as I am, I’m scared of all of it. I don’t know what the right choices are.