I am again participating in Angie's Right Where I Am Project (thank you so very much for doing this), and I really enjoy how it makes me take time out of my crazy life to actually analyze exactly how I am doing almost a year and half out from Logan's death.
Last year I was merely 5 months out when I wrote this post, and had just learned I was pregnant with Logan's little brother days earlier. As I reread that post I see so much hope in my writing, but I know the pain I was feeling is the exact same pain I am feeling today just in a muted form.
I think in the early days I kept relying on time, my children, and the birth of his little brother to somewhat heal my open wounds, but a year later I can verify that it hasn't and it never will. That giant piece of my heart that is no longer here with me on earth can never be healed. It is occasionally bandaged when i look into his little brother's innocent eyes and see his beautiful toothless smile, or even when my 3 older children hug me, hold my hand, and tell me how much they love me. That break from grief is the carrot that dangles in front of my face and keeps me going, but instantly it can be ripped off and exposed when I see a toddler or hear the name Logan mentioned within in one hundred yards of me. Unfortunately, the tears still flow freely when I get a brief second to myself (like now), and when I actually take a second to think about who and what my entire family has missed out on and will miss out on for the rest of our lives.
I also am finding myself in a transitional point in my life right now and that is making it a little harder. In eight years I have carried and birthed five beautiful children. I literally have been pregnant or raising babies since 2004. Layton is officially the last and I am having a harder time with that then I expected. I am incredibly jealous of all the women who are so excited to be done having babies and are able to enjoy their entire family. I am struggling immensely with this, and I think it is because my whole family is not here and never can be. As miserable and anxiety ridden as my pregnancy with Layton was I think I felt I was able to connect with Logan a little more. For 38 weeks I was given the blessing of feeling all of Logan's kicks, twists, and turns until his umbilical cord took that away. By being pregnant again I was able to transfer his brother's movements to my memories of Logan. Now that I am done having children I have nothing to compare to him in the present, and that is heart breaking for me.
At the same time I am also very very thankful and have learned more about myself and my family, good and bad, through his loss. I have developed the ability to take on scary events with my children without completely freaking out, and unfortunately in the last 3 months I have had plenty of situations to practice this reactionary skill. Part of me believes it is because I have faced the worst possible outcome and that nothing really surprises me anymore. When my 5 year old ended up in the Emergency Room, and admitted into the hospital, for the 2nd time last week for a heart condition I found myself unusually calm. To be honest, it freaked me out a little bit because I felt it was abnormal. I then realized I was doing what I have been doing since December 19, 2010. Almost blocking out what was happening in order to protect my child from being scared. If Mommy is smiling then it really can't be that bad...right??? I have to admit it has worked quite well for me so far even though I know it is not the healthiest. This numbness that still lingers has gotten me through a lot in the last 17 months and I know at some point it will wear off and I just hope I am ready when it does.
Every day is another day filled with life's ups and downs. I feel many times my Life roller coaster and my Grief roller coaster end up on different tracks. These are the moments when I can smile and see a glimpse of the old me. I have to admit since Layton was born my smiles out number the tears, but the ache for Logan always remains. I still find myself feeling guilty at times because I still feel a sense of responsibility for his death. I am still trying to understand how to balance these feelings and how to deal with my mixed emotions I experience on a daily basis as I take care and watch his little brother grow. I find myself constantly staring at him and wondering if Logan would look this way at 4 months. Would he be teething and almost sitting up unsupported? Would his face light up every time he sees me? Would he be wearing size 12 month clothing like his brother? You would think after experiencing this 3 times before it wouldn't be as amazing, but every second of every day I appreciate it a hundred times more. Everything he does has more of a meaning. I can honestly say that is solely 100 percent due to Logan's death and my desire to not take anything for granted.
He has taught me so much and his brothers, sister, and father are the beneficiaries of all I can give. As I reread this it seems kind of somber, but this is Right Where I Am Today. Tomorrow, I could be full of happiness and clarity and that is what is so amazing about grief. It can tear you down and bring you back to that moment in time when you knew something was terribly wrong and you finally had to face it, or it can disappear completely and you can enjoy a day watching your kids play soccer, swim in the pool, and have a great Memorial Day weekend while cooking out with friends.
Not a moment goes by that I don't think of Logan, and I don't think it will ever change. I have come so so far, but I know I still have miles and miles to go. I need to learn exactly how to balance mothering 4 children here on earth and the one in my heart...Logan Gregory my sweet guardian Angel and terribly missed son up in Heaven.
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
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14 comments:
I too lost my sweet baby in 2010. The grief just becomes a part of who we are. It is such a rollercoaster ride and we will never be over it. Thank you for sharing your heart and your precious son.
Much love and hugs,
Hannah Rose
...a year later I can verify that it hasn't and it never will. That giant piece of my heart that is no longer here with me on earth can never be healed.
This I totally get. And at some point I think I just said, Healing isn't even the goal. Though it certainly was in the beginning. I wanted to heal. But then I realized that healing will come, I need to focus on learning to live without her. Anyway, thank you for helping me remember this, and for sharing right where you are. Remembering Logan with you, sending love.
I identify with this post so much, I too am parenting 4 children after losing one and my last pregnancy was soon after the loss of our daughter. I was petrified the entire time and knowing he is our last, it has been hard to watch him grow up so quickly. With all of that said, 3 more years have passed for me than for you and I can promise that the days get easier.
He has taught me so much and his brothers, sister, and father are the beneficiaries of all I can give. Such a beautiful sentence.
I'm so sorry that you had to take your 5 year old to the ER with his heart condition. My two living children have both been back in hospital since their older sister died and I also feel that strange calm descending on me. I think that the medical staff have found me a little bit cold but it is that need to make sure that I am still smiling, that they aren't scared and because I know how little I can do.
So much in your post speaks to me. My subsequent pregnancy is probably also my last and I find myself at a loss, it's such a struggle and, as you say, I think it because my family will never feel complete. I loved your description of connecting with Logan via your pregnancy with Layton and how you feel you will have nothing to compare to him in the present, that articulates something that I have been feeling myself. That I probably won't be pregnant or have another baby is the loss of another connection to that child I only knew so briefly.
Remembering your son, Logan Gregory x
Reading posts like this one is forcing me to realise the permanency of losing my son (as though it shouldn't have been obvious in the first place). What Angie said about wanting to heal in the beginning is where I'm at now - desperately wanting to heal and feel better. But I'm learning that some wounds never heal and certain things will always rip them apart again - hearing another Mother calling out Aidan and not meaning my son, seeing children who are the same age as he should be, having another child and having their milestones become glimpses into the life my first-born should have had.
Thank you for your post, it's a much needed reminder that although there is light at the end of this tunnel, there is always a big, dark pit of despair underneath it all. Thinking of you and your beautiful little boy, Logan Gregory.
This was rich, vidid and beautiful. So much in here. I'm so glad you get to raise four beautiful babies, but I'm so sorry that Logan is not here. What a beautiful baby he is.
xo
Balancing the parenting of here and not here is very hard. I long to make my peace with it really. I'm not sure I have yet. Thank you for writing.
"but I know the pain I was feeling is the exact same pain I am feeling today just in a muted form."
Yep, I get this, especially after having our subsequent.
Nothing surprises me anymore either. Thanks for taking part in this project.
Peace to you.
I am so sorry. Sending light and love to you.
So sorry for your loss of Logan. Pregnancy after loss is so hard. Even my 3rd pregnancy was tainted with the loss of my rainbows twin. My rainbows name is Logan and I am so sorry to know that if we were to cross paths that hearing me say his name would bring you sadness. (I wanted to mention this in my comment in case you choose to read my post - at least this way you can stay away from my blog because of this if you want to) I feel the`same way about the names of my angels: Riley, Peyton, and Cameron. I am a substitute teacher and when I have students with those names it breaks my heart to see a living child carrying my angels name. Grief is hard and I know that each of my children has a piece of my heart. They always will. People I think expect me to forget them now that my living child is with me but they don't understand. Those who have never lost a child simply never can fully understand. Thank you for sharing your story <3
*hugs*
It can tear you down and bring you back to that moment in time when you knew something was terribly wrong and you finally had to face it, or it can disappear completely and you can enjoy a day watching your kids play soccer, swim in the pool, and have a great Memorial Day weekend while cooking out with friends.
Yes. It's kind of amazing, isn't it - the faces and terrain of grief? This is such a beautiful, full post. I am so sorry that you are missing your Logan instead of getting to know who he would have been. So much love to you and your family.
Loved your post Darcey! It is amazing to think how far we have come, but that there is still so much farther to go. Always thinking of you and Logan.
This was such a rich, textured post about the mixing of grief and life. I wrote a little about my rainbow being our last child too and what that means in my life. I'm nearly four years out now and my rainbow is two and a half. I've done so much grieving in those years for the end of pregnancy and babies, as well as for Emma. Just these last few months, something has shifted and a peace has come. I hope that it will be the same for you - that the connections you feel between Logan and Leyton strengthen rather than diminish.
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