The longer I put off composing a new post, the more overwhelming the task becomes. If I'm going to take the time to capture my thoughts in writing, I usually feel the need for them to be somewhat neat and organized -- presenting events in chronological order, having a prominent message or at least tying together various ideas with an overarching theme.
But ideas continue to accumulate and I just don't have the time to sort through them the way I used to. Considering all the draft posts that will likely never be completed, I think I'm suffering from blog stuttering -- too many ideas trying to get out at once, and therefore nothing intelligible is coming out. Well actually nothing at all is coming out on the blog because I'm just not posting ...
But it's a new year (quite a ways into the new year, I know) and I'm ready for a new approach. Rather than take the time to sculpt every post into something flowing and coherent, I'm going to acknowledge that this brain is pretty scattered now, so sometimes I'll simply grab a fistful of random-ish thoughts and present them in whatever harmony or juxtaposition they offer each other.
I have to give partial credit to my sister, Shelli, for this inspiration. She's started using "
7 Quick Takes" on her blog. That seems like a good solution to this problem, so here goes ...
- 1-
December 1, 2009 was the day Chris and I happily brought Garrett home from Saint Marys, thinking he was well on his way down the road to recovery and that we had a possibly challenged, but relatively normal, life ahead of ourselves ... ahead of
him. How odd that December 1, 2010 is the day we welcomed Elliot into the world -- the little brother who wouldn't be here if Garrett still was.
- 2 -
What a surprise. I really expected that when Elliot was born, in addition to all the typical joy that accompanies a long-awaited birth, my grief would also be all the more poignant in contrast. Instead, on the day he was born a deep sense of contentment began to take root. I fell asleep that night with a such a light and thankful heart. I honestly didn't think I would feel that kind of genuine happiness again.
I've only had a few emotional moments thinking about Garrett since I've been able to hold Elliot in my arms. On my second night in the hospital, I dreamed that I came across the cream blanket with brown puppies that I used most often with Garrett. It was folded on the floor, looking like new, in an empty room in our house, and the weight of the realization that it should be well worn by now just tore at my heart. It was just a blanket, but its pristine condition represented utter hopelessness, futility and loss.
I woke up just moments before a nurse brought Elliot in for a feeding. I was disoriented enough that the tears didn't come right away, but as soon as the nurse left, the clash of my soul aching for Garrett and rejoicing over Elliot was just overwhelming and I had a hearty sob.
- 3-
At the hospital, Jonathan kept calling Elliot baby Garrett, and we'd explain that, no, this is baby Elliot. He finally asked, "Where's baby Garrett?" We said he's with Jesus in heaven, which was apparently a sufficient response for Jonathan, as he was quickly off playing with some new toy. But with Jonathan or other family members slipping and calling Elliot Garrett, it didn't even nudge me in the direction of being sad.
I can see pictures of Garrett, talk about him, and even pull out stuffed animals that were intended for him with only the love I have for him bubbling to the surface. The pain that had permeated everything to some degree before is keeping its distance, like it was all just a bad dream ... usually.
- 4 -
All that said, when December 11th came, we wanted to spend it as a quiet day at home. I had thought I'd want to go through Garrett's memory box and reread all the sympathy cards we received. I remember how some of them were particularly touching, and I wondered what I'd think reading them now with a year's added perspective. One had commented that we would one day find our "new normal," and I think we have now.
But when the 11th finally arrived, I didn't want to go through the box. I was content to quietly remember Garrett, but didn't feel compelled to relive so much.
I think that's the biggest change. I read somewhere that the loss of a child can result in post traumatic stress disorder, and while I don't know whether I had that necessarily, a good number of symptoms certainly made an appearance at one point or another. The "recurrent re-experiencing of the traumatic event" is one that has all but disappeared since Elliot's birth.
And some might expect the "traumatic event" to simply be Garrett's death, but I lost much, much more sleep over memories of our experience in the ER with all the pain the poor boy had to suffer. His death made all that he endured there, and with subsequent procedures, seem entirely pointless. Why should he have to go through all of that only to die before having a chance to experience any joy or love? If he had lived long enough to know some happiness, there would have been some redemption. Maybe that pain would have been worth it, but he died before there was any such redemption.
Anyway ... aside from writing about it now, those thoughts haven't been plaguing me as they had been, and that has been a huge relief. There is no answer to that "Why?" but my mind would return to it constantly. Now it's sufficiently occupied with the new addition to our family most of the time.
- 5-
Maternity leave with a toddler during the winter can be tough. Jonathan still goes to Carol's once (sometimes twice) a week and his aunt Jean's once a week primarily to keep somewhat of a routine with that. I'll admit that I cherish the one-on-one time I have with Elliot on those days as an added bonus.
When it's just me and the two boys, though, Jonathan keeps asking if he can go outside. He would climb on the coffee table, the back of the couch, and his Fisher Price car ramp. I felt like I was spending all day peeling him off the walls, so I finally asked Chris to take down a slide that was stored in the garage so we'd have something that he
could climb on. That helped, and I've been surprised at how much time he'll spend it.
He used to be a morning napper, too, but in January started fighting it so much I'd spend two hours trying to get him to stay put in bed and finally give up because I'd have to tend to Elliot. One day he fell asleep in his high chair after lunch, and another day he fell asleep under his slide in the early afternoon, so I finally figured out we'd all be better off if nap time simply moved to around 1 p.m. Now it usually goes pretty smoothly.
- 6-
Jonathan is also surprising me with how clever he is. For quite a while now, we've been reading five books before nap time or bedtime. Sometimes he'll try to sneak more in, and we'll say, "Well, if you want these two, you need to put two of the other ones back because you already have five." He'll still try to work out getting all seven, but eventually put two back.
More recently, though, when we point out that he has too many, he'll count them saying, "No. One, two, three, four ... (pause) ... six, seven, eight, nine, FIVE!" How many two year olds would think to skip a number in a sequence so he can move it to the end and try to convince his parents there are really five books when there are nine?
- 7 - , so here are a few pictures. : )
And not to leave Jonathan out, here he is decorating himself with stickers.
Posts
