Tag: Capture Your Grief

I’m only 27 days into this project and it feels like the load that I’ve been carrying has gotten a little lighter. I might never have written about some of the suggested topics myself or thought to explore them. Sure, I go to therapy and sure I write about a myriad of topics here, but being able to focus on a different aspect each day has been truly helpful. I’m enjoying this project and I’ll be sad to see it go at the end of the month.

The timing couldn’t have been better as we are coming so close to the one year mark. I’m still trying (and failing) to wrap my head around that. How has it almost been a year already? Honestly, where did the time go? If it weren’t for Darcy finishing kindegarten and moving onto first grade, I wouldn’t have a way to measure it. Regardless of if I want it to or not, time is moving forward.

“If you don’t like something, change it. If you can’t change it, change your attitude”. Maya Angelou

Today I am supposed to come up with a new healing ritual and dedicate myself to it. In the absence of gardening, I think I’m going to throw myself into house projects indoors and NOT let them consume me. I will take my time and enjoy them, not try to push through them to get them done. The only timeline that exists is the one that I place on myself.

Project bench is next on the list alongside Darcy’s American Girl dollhouse. One day at a time.

Today I went into the garden and picked everything that was left. We picked a ton more tomatoes and then to our surprise we found some cucumbers, peppers and carrots that we didn’t know had even grown. They were small, but mighty, showing us how they had fought against the squash and tomatoes and survived.

There is someone that I still can’t forgive. I feel that there is so much more they could have done, should be doing. They make me feel so insecure and insignificant sometimes. It’s me.

I haven’t really talked about this since the accident, but I do hold myself responsible. Now, the definition of an accident is an ‘unforeseen or unplanned event.’ The fact that I call what happened an accident tells me that rationally, I do understand that that’s what it was, an accident.

Then there’s the mom side of me. The side of me that instinctually knows that it is our job to keep our children safe. It is our job to wipe their noses and their behinds, to teach them and help them grow and to love them unconditionally. We try so hard to have control over whatever we can to make our children happy and secure.

I was numb in the moments after the car hit us and it was really hard to process everything. I remember screaming a lot. They loaded me into an ambulance and told me that I had to hold it together. Every fiber of my being was begging/praying/pleading for a positive outcome. When that didn’t happen, I fell apart and cried for the first time.

I think I was still in shock by the time they took me up to the emergency room for X Rays and I was just going through the motions. I remember being really tired, as the adrenaline had left my body and I was starting to actually begin to feel my injuries. They wheeled me out for X Rays and when I came back my sister was in a bit of a panic. The police were here to question me. I didn’t think anything of it until she said that she asked if they were going to charge me. Charge me? Charge me with what? I was so confused as to what this was all about.

The police came into my room and read me my Miranda Rights. I was stunned, panicked, terrified, confused. Were they blaming me? Had I done something wrong? Holy shit, was this my fault? None of those thoughts had even entered my mind until that moment. I was still stuck on the accident itself, I hadn’t really even thought about how it had happened. That moment was a turning point for me.

After I left the hospital it was days of ‘I should have, I could have, why didn’t I?’ I tortured myself with why am I alive and he’s gone? How did this happen? The police came over and reconstructed the accident and timed the car. There were 7-9 seconds from when the car started rolling to when it hit us. Think of how long 7-9 seconds lasts. For me, it changed my life forever.

The rational side of me kicked in and thought ok, that’s not really a long time to react to something. My instincts told me to run, so I ran. There was some relief in knowing just how little time there had been.

Then I started to think about those stories that you read. Mother’s who do crazy, heroic things to save their children’s lives because they reacted so quickly. Why didn’t that happen? Why couldn’t I save him? I’m in a support group with a family who’s daughter was shot 8 times to shield her son. It’s instinctual to protect our offspring, how did he fall out of my arms?

I will never know the answers to any of this and it’s something that I have to live with. Like I said, the rational side of me understands. But any mom reading this should know that when your child hurts, you feel somewhat responsible, because you are supposed to be the one protecting them.

I do not blame the police, they were just doing their job. Honestly, I can not say enough good things about the Worcester PD. I still would have gotten to this conclusion by myself.

I don’t torture myself with it, because most of the time I am able to look at the accident logically. The part that is illogical to me is why this ever happened. I miss my son and no ‘what ifs, should have’s or could have’s’ will bring him back.

How could I not be inspired with Darcy in my life? This child has so much energy and zest for life, it’s hard not to get caught up in it. I’ve always said that she has little boy energy in a little girl body. I often forget that she’s only 5 because she is wise beyond her years. She’s my ‘old soul.’ After my mom died, all that I wanted was a daughter. Now that Benny’s gone, she’s saving me again.

Today I napped, a lot. It was rainy out and it just felt right to relax.

I’ve written a lot about the amazing people that have supported us as well as the people that have disappointed us on this journey. Relationships change so much once you lose a child because you have changed. Either people can stick around or can’t handle it.

The scariest thing for us was talking to my sister and friend and hearing the ugly statistics of child loss. The hospital social worker had sent us home with loads of paper detailing what to do next. Parker and I weren’t all that interested in reading that literature and to be honest I still haven’t gone through the piles of paperwork from the hospital almost a year later. They sit in a folder that my friend put together in my living room on a shelf.

But my sister and my friend, they read and read and read. I remember in the days following how they would read some of the literature and then stop short. I knew at the time that they were paraphrasing what we would be able to hear and keeping the bad stuff at bay. The fact is that a staggering 80% of couples divorce after the loss of a child. We knew this very early on and honestly, it terrified us. We had already lost so much, how could the odds be so stacked against us?

I remember meeting with our therapist for the first time and she asked us why we were there. I looked her in the eye and told her the statistics and that we didn’t want that to happen to us. She asked if we wanted to both see her, or she could recommend someone else for one of us. We chose to both see her, because we both felt very comfortable with her and she was trained in trauma. She also sees us for couples as needed. She’s good at working with both of us on issues that one spouse might be having. She’s able to be fair and this has worked well for us.

Even though we constantly work at it, it hasn’t been easy. Most couples divorce after child loss for reasons of blame, lack of communication, change and differences in how they grieve. I can tell you first hand that I can see how easily it can happen.

I have such tremendous guilt over the accident (more on that at another time), but Parker has never expressed any blame on my part. He’s truly amazing, I don’t know that I would be able to feel the same way if the tables were turned. I find fault in everything. Maybe that’s why he’s mine. He’s a bigger person than me in so many ways.

In the beginning, it was very easy for me to show my feelings. We even joked that I would break down at night and Parker would break down in the morning, we were able to help lift each other up. It worked for us and kept us close during those first long months. Over time, we have (or mostly I have) retreated to our separate corners to lick our wounds in private. I took to blogging and found such amazing release in writing. Parker went back to work and would spend time at his desk going through pictures and videos of Benny (I have still not watched a Benny video yet). Parker shows more of his emotions while I tend to cry in private. It’s hard when your partner is not grieving the same way. As unfair as it is, I get frustrated when Parker is having a bad day if I’m having a good one. The good ones are so hard to find sometimes.

Communication has always been a frustration for us. I used to have an amazing memory and Parker was my goldfish, only able to retain something that I said for 30 seconds. I was busy, but usually able to keep on top of things with work, the kids and the house. I now have joined Parker in the fish tank. I forget everything unless I put it on our calendars. I can no longer retain details and this is very frustrating to a type A like myself. With two goldfish in our bowl, we had some major communication issues. We are constantly frustrated with each other because we forget to tell each other important things.

The only one that has come somewhat’easy’ to us is change. We didn’t have a choice. When people say, ‘oh I don’t know how you do it,’ we don’t have a choice in the matter. We’re surviving as best as we can and the only way to do that is to change, as much as you don’t want to. Losing a child changes who you are and changes your marriage. Ours is still a work in progress.