I believe this entry and my thoughts on this subject will continue to evolve over time. There is no wrong way to grieve one child while celebrating another.
Parenting in itself is so rewarding and utterly exhausting at the same time. At all moments of the day I worry about my children, I miss my children, I love my children, I am mentally drained by my children, I am filled with so much joy by my children, I am critical of my abilities of taking care of my children, and I feel like I am doing everything right for my children. These thoughts and moments are constant. They never stop. Welcome to a parents brain - it again, is exhausting.
I always knew I wanted children. Not in the typical yearning to be a mother type of "know". I have friends who from kindergarten knew that was their calling in life. I, on the other hand, just knew I wanted children because that was part of life. You go to school, marry your soulmate, start careers, buy a house and build your family. Don't get me wrong, I have always loved children. I just was never one of those girls who had a deep burning desire to be a mother. Mine was more like a nice warming fire on the first chill day of winter. Lovely feeling but fleeting if something else caught my attention. This all changed the moment I found out I was pregnant with Bennett. My life changed. My brain changed. My thoughts changed and my heart changed.
That warming fire turned into a deep seated roaring flame of protection, love, and hope. I was so excited. I couldn't wait to see who he looked like, who he acted like, and who he was. I had hopes and dreams for him a mile long within minutes of knowing he was apart of me. I was also scared of course - but I believe that is very typical of all new parents. The fear of the unknown. The fear of embarking on a journey you have yet to experience. The butterflies in your stomach, the joy in your heart, the contemplations of your thoughts. All normal for a first time parent. I wanted to have the best for my baby and I wanted to be the best mother for my baby. A mother who protected him, showed him love, and provided all the opportunities to reach his dreams and goals. Above all my goal as a parent has always been to raise a caring and compassionate human. Someone people want to know and be apart of their life. Someone who makes a positive impact on this sometimes cruel world.
When Bennett was born, again my emotions changed. Maybe the hormones? Maybe normal? But that deep seated roaring flame broke loose and engulfed my soul in its entirety. It transformed me into a fierce momma bear while at the same time teaching me more compassion, empathy, and patience that I ever knew existed within me. More than I thought I was capable of, honestly. My life had a new importance and my life had a new purpose.
In an instant, and boy do I mean an instant, all of this was shattered. Shattered beyond recognition. In the snap of a finger my whole world was lost, broken, changed, slung around, slapped, stomped on, laughed at, and mocked. It was like a cruel joke. Like a dangling carrot that kept bobbing out of reach when I tried to jump and grab it. My job was to protect him and I felt like a failed. When Bennett died I again changed. I was a shell of my former self. I was stuck in a very dark and gloomy world. What is love? How could love exist if my child, my own flesh and blood was ripped from my soul with no warning? I just existed. I ate enough to survive and I worked myself to the bone. I took on more work responsibilities just to escape my life. I traveled Sunday through Friday every single week once I returned to work. Anything to keep my mind from going back to that emergency room, back to that doctor, back to that staff. If I allowed myself to transport back, the little bit of hope and love I had left in my soul turned into blind rage. And then, I was pregnant again.
Pregnancy after loss is a wild ride. There is no innocence left. I felt failure with Bennett so how could I not fail with his sibling? I was constantly waiting for the shoe to drop like an anvil in a cartoon movie. I was never comfortable, I honestly did not connect with Brynn until she was in my arms, I was always nervous, and I prepared myself for every doctor's appointment that something would be wrong - because it could happen. I knew this now. This perfect fantasy world does not exist. There was very little joy with my pregnancy with Brynn. I had my moments of happiness, of course, but they were fleeting. I was so scared to lose her. I was so scared to go through another loss. I was scared out of my mind while also dealing with the grief and emotions of losing Bennett. I was exhausted while also trying to wear a "mask" (as I like to say) in front of customers and friends. "How are you?" ... I'm ok. I promise if you ask a loss parent this question and they respond with "I'm ok" they are not. Not in the least bit. The emotions we feel are to advanced and complicated to try to illustrate with the English language. The heaviness of our true answer scares us and we constantly feel like if we do allow ourselves to be vulnerable the response we will get is not what we need. So, we say "I'm ok". It is a heavy place to be especially in the first few years. I still catch myself saying "I'm ok" just to move the conversation along.
When Brynn was born and placed in my arms it was like the world stopped again. Much like when Bennett died. Instead this time I felt peace. In that moment I felt Bennett more than I had in over a year since he died. She is who saved me. She saved Taylor. She saved our family. She introduced love back into our lives. And not just any love, that fiery love that parents have for their children along with the possibility for us to love again. We had lived the last almost 15 months not knowing if that type of love existed anymore. She did not replace Bennett but she helped us learn to accept that kind of love again into our lives. I am forever grateful for her.
We have also welcomed Beckett since Bennett passed away. Sheesh is he a spitfire. He is the child that keeps us on our toes at all seconds of the day. He never slows down, he thinks he is way older than he is, he is stubborn, he is wild, he is loving, he is sweet and he is perfect. Brynn on the other hand is more similar to Bennett. They both have an old soul, very calm, very smart, cuddle on the couch and watch a movie type of kids. Brynn has her moments -don't get me wrong. I remember being so very upset when I found out Brynn was a girl. I just wanted my boy back. Why would I not have another boy? My boy was taken from me! I went online and bought all sorts of girl clothing to try to prep myself to be a girl mom. When they arrived my family got a good laugh. They were not at all appropriate for a little newborn girl - for me at least. I'm a gown type of newborn mom - nothing fancy for us. I will tell you this, God did not make a mistake sending us a girl next. She is EXACTLY who I needed and still need to this day. She saved me in every way possible. She continues to save me every morning when she wakes up. She is good for my soul. I was not ready for another boy - at all. My heart and my mind know that now but in that moment I was shattered again. We had Beckett when our hearts were ready to deal with having another boy again. When we had learned how to navigate our grief enough to separate the two of them. To know that Beckett is not here to live out Bennett's future. If I would have had a boy first I would have been a total mess of a mother.
I wish I could tell you that I am now this perfect parent who sees the beauty in every single moment of my childrens lives. That I am a mother who is never distracted, a mother who never grows impatient, a mother that appreciates even the hard moments, a mother with it all together. I am not. Parenting is still hard. Parenting has its ups and downs. Parenting did not come with a instruction manual and parenting after loss certainly didn't. Parenting after loss for me is beautiful. I do appreciate and cherish my children more now than I did with Bennett. I still get impatient, I still get aggravated but I don't take the time I have with them for granted. I stop myself a lot to remind myself of this. I definitely bounce back quicker from the meltdowns or the sass. I worry about my children every night when I put them to bed the most. I pray they wake up to see the sunshine again the next morning and if they don't, I pray their last day earth side was beautiful and filled with love. My children live with a mother who is sometimes crippled by pain and grief while at the same time is filled with joy just because of their presence. You know when you put your child to bed after a really long and hard day? I mean one of those days that you are counting down the clock until bedtime for whatever reason. Just a hard day. Then after bedtime, you scroll your phone and see a picture of their beaming face and you instantly miss them? You instantly want to curl up in their bed beside them because every moment of that day that was hard disappears instantly just from seeing their smile. I have that feeling almost every moment of the day. Every time I miss Bennett my children save me. Their smiles bring me back to life.
My children know what a cemetery is. My children talk about heaven in a different way than most. My children know they have a brother who lives with God. My children here on earth are definitely raised differently than Bennett. They have a more patient mother, they have a mother who is probably a little to over protective, and they have a mother who probably does way to much for them. They have mother who went through extreme sadness before them and that is something I hope burns compassion and empathy deep within them. They have a mother who is more tolerant of others feelings. A mother who knows not everyone is "ok" and that not everyone is living a life without tragedy or pain - they may just hide it well. I hope that because of Bennett's death I will be able to raise children who comfort, who listen, and who deeply care for others. That is my silver lining.
Krysten
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