Looking back... Looking ahead

I was just coming to the computer (after procrastinating for over an hour) to do a post about Alexander's clothes, and my love/his ties to Winnie the Pooh.  Does anyone else go back and randomly read their old stuff?  I was searching through my post list, and started reading about the scary times I had while expecting Theodore.  We had made it through Alexander's first birthday, and we were in the "ok baby just get here now...alive" mode of living. 

I clicked randomly on This Post.  It was titled "Long Overdue".  Man, did I write a lot.  I tip my hat off to everyone who made it to the end of that post, and am still so thankful for the support.  While I was reading, I caught myself at this part.  And I started crying that hard, chest gripping cry.

My Feelings

As I get closer and closer, and the possibility of (maybe, just maybe) us landing a living baby in the next few weeks becomes more and more of a reality... I cant help but want Alexander more.  I just still want my son.  In every way I did when I first lost him, I still want him that much.  I've had quiet meltdowns, and Daniel and I have had some pretty over the edge blow-ups (at each other, and at life's circumstances that come along with pregnancy and preparing for a baby), and they're all because of how much we miss him.  All because of how much we just want to go back to February 2012, and somehow get our son back.

I'm not afraid that I wont love my next born child - I know I will.  I already do.  A lot.

I'm still afraid to live my life with out my son.  I just so don't want to do it.  And having no choice in this fact is really hard.  Especially in knowing that all the majority of friends and family are expecting us to be worlds and worlds better off now/soon since we'll have what we seemingly lost.  And I just don't have it in me to set everyone straight.   

I am still heartbroken that one can make it and the other cannot.  I stayed working as long as possible in hopes to avoid too much alone time with myself and have that very clear notion be the only thing on my mind.  I've cried so much over these past 4 days.  Maybe because I actually have had the time to sit and cry, or maybe it's because I've allowed myself to let go of tasks and responsibilities that usually fill my head regarding work, and I'm left with what I've had to quiet down for months and months now.  I'm just still so sad about it all. 

 

And I cried so hard because even now, almost 2 years after writing that entry, it's all still true.  All those pulsing emotions, full of so much hurt and missing and pain... they're all right here now.  God, how does this all stay so true?  So relatable even years out?  I know why, and I cant believe it all at the same time. 

 

I wanted that boy, and I still do.  I had an emotional day today as we saw Theo's preschool program teacher off as she's transferring tomorrow.  There were lots of families there.  There is a mom and son couple that used to come regularly ... but I haven't seen them since before Christmas.  The son's name is Alexander.  I told myself this weekend that if I'm going to see those people ever again, it will be this week.  The week leading up to Alexander's birthday.  And there they were today.  Alexander is her second child.. and they all came as a family today (the dad was there too, but their daughter was in school), and Daniel came along with Theo and me too.  Some how all 6 of us got stuck at the snack table together... and there they were, casually talking about how "Alexander was such a dream baby [compared to his older sister]".  I don't know if it was for survival purposes, but I actually numbed it out.  After the third or fourth time hearing his name, the sting was completely gone, and the ache was detached.  I knew they were talking about their son (who was born on a very different day in 2012, and looks very different from what my son looked like), and it didn't weigh on me as we continued to talk.  Daniel and I did make eyes with each other several times when the happy family across from us "warned" us about the massive difference 2 children at home has against 1.  Really?  I figured it was EXACTLY the same...duh.  I almost wanted to look over my shoulder to the invisible camera, and ask the director, "where did you find these guys?  Are you kidding me with this??"

 

It's Tuesday, the 24th.  There are only 2 more days until his birthday, and I don't think I'll have much time to write other than right now.  Daniel took Theo to his parents house, and I pushed off writing this post and puttered throughout the house eating candy instead... delaying any writing.  Or, maybe it's because I didn't feel the exact words itching at my finger tips, I just delayed the act out of feeling the block.

 

I wont get out all I wanted to get out.  I made a list at the beginning of the year of topics, brainstorms, flashbacks I'd neglected to jot down in the years gone by.  All of January I was compiling this list, but alas, February's end is near, and I've just got out a few simple posts.  (well, 'simple' is a bad word, but I didn't want to say measly). 

 

This was my list.  It's from my iphone notepad, and it's super random.  All point form.  Maybe I'll expand on some of these later... but for the purpose of completing my "something" for Alexander's 3rd birthday, here is my list:

 

Milk - After Alexander
Hand expressing. Milk everywhere. The smell. All my clothes.  My bras.  The reusable breast pads smelled like Baby's breath.
The avent pimp. The sound.  Nightly/daily.  For weeks (or months?).  In the tub, smelling the spring air and breast milk - that was my life.
Pumping ounce after ounce, pouring down my kitchen sink.
Connection- maybe -Why I can't willingly, happily, pour the extra milk I pumped with theo

The timeframe of gloom - post death - first 2-3 months  all gloom...planning the bc trip?

He built the fire that was motherhood within me

Thank you cards (done)
Name game and other shower quirks. Advice book. (done)

 Pottery mugs from BC

Pajamas / clothes

Passport

Winnie the Pooh

Life splicing. Comparing 6 months to 6 months - grief vs living baby.  What life was supposed to be. Side by side post with pix of theo. What is 3 years supposed to look like?

How it changed me - for the worse? If not for the worse, definitely as a person. Compared to my father, where losing him made me MORE of who I already was, losing Alexander is making me less. Not in value, but in ME. The me that I've been since childhood, adolescents and a young lady. His death and this experience is changing her. And I'm frustrated that I'm not strong enough to get her back and BE HER through it all. I'm still too mad. I'm still too sad.

Purpose and grief. Early days vs now. In the early days, I devoured blogs...read every word, history and all. Waiting with baited breath for rainbow babies, hoping my pregnancy would turn out the same. There was purpose in it. Early on - I'm blogging because I'm in the thick of it, I'm reading because this is how I SURVIVE.  And this ache, this grief, it had purpose. It's as real as the sky is blue. Now, the grief is still there...but it feels less functional. What do I do with it?  How does it bleed into my life. Love? I miss that early stage for this very reason. As bad as it felt, compared to now, my grief felt filled with purpose. With reason. With dimension.

This old house (done)

** and to add to that list now, yesterday it hit me that I wanted to post about the pregnancy journal I had to keep and bring with me to every appointment as the practice required it.  I didn't have to do anything other than bring it, but it was full of prenatal stuff, birth plan prep, and hospital bag advice.  There was also a chart that the office kept - handwritten - on the first page, of all my pregnancy stats: weight, belly size, etc.
 

That was it.  Some topics were too loaded to want to sit and write about.  They kind of had to be there to write about it... the fire had to be going, and my keyboard had to be accessible and my time had to be free, and then and only then could some of the things get formed into a proper post.  Like the Milk.  I could have written an entire post on my phone that day while I was pushing the stroller with Theo, but blog writing is becoming a luxury of sorts it seems I cant really cater to.  That's ok.  Maybe these little blurbs are enough.  Maybe THIS will be the post I read back on one day that makes me dive into more.