Sunday, March 11, 2012

One Month

E is four weeks old tomorrow. She is thriving. I feel so very lucky to have her. It's a real pleasure to have an infant as an (older) mature mom. With the girls being so grown up, it's sort of like having our first again, but this time we already know what we are doing. To boot, E is a pretty relaxed baby, at least so far.

The third anniversary of Henry's death was two weeks ago. It snuck up on me, as consumed as we were with the newness of E. It was, true to form, a very difficult day for me. The first time that I cried about Henry since E was born. After the actual day was over, things have been easier again in general. I did have one difficult episode, where I found myself repeating a soothing mantra to E that I very specifically recall repeating to Henry on his literal deathbed. Those little mines pop up from time to time, so far not overwhelming, but something that I feel I need to experience, acknowledge, and move past.

Today I took E for her first walk through the neighborhood. That walk has been a bit of a looming monster for brings back very clearly the first walk I took with Henry, almost eight years ago now. Eight years. How is that possible? It was a beautiful day, and the walk was nice, and I'm glad it's over. As I've said many times, the firsts are always hard. As I was walking I was thinking of all of the firsts that are to come...playgrounds, pony rides, fairs, etc. There are so many things we haven't revisited since Henry's baby and toddler years. Now when we go to a park we go to play sports, or attend an event, not to hit the playground. So there will be many firsts to come.

What I have learned is that E's arrival and the joy around it does not diminish the pain, sorrow, and grief of Henry's death, but neither does Henry's death tarnish the love and appreciation I have for E. I am glad for this. I wouldn't want it any other way.


Anonymous said...

I found your blog for the first time today. I read through all of your story for the past three years, and found myself deeply moved by your honest, intelligent and insightful thoughts about your terrible loss. I cried many tears of recognition for the emotions you have been through.

This year it will be 25 years since we lost our beautiful five year old son. I very much understand the isolation of facing such a profound loss when I do not believe in God, and when so many comforting words seem to be based on the assumption that I do have that faith.

My mother, who would always let me speak of my son, and would share memories of him with me, died nearly 7 years ago. Obviously I miss my mother terribly, but I also miss having that other person who loved to remember our little boy, and could bear to talk about him.

My daughter was two years old when my son died. My youngest son was born almost 3 years after my eldest died, and this caused a strange mixture of feelings, some of which were unexpected. I expect you will experience some of these too.

I would like to thank you for sharing your journey, as today you made me feel just a little bit less alone.

I sincerely wish you and your family all possible joy and happiness,

Dr. Smak said...

Thank you for sharing your story.

Sybil said...

I am so glad that you and E are enoying each other..I was remembering the other day that it was around the memorial and was thinking of you and hoping all was well.
Love Sybil xx

Jacquie | After Words said...

Lovely post. I'm so happy for you and E.

Nurse and Hospital Stories said...

Henry's death was sad, yet little E had been giving you joy since she was born. They say that sorrow may come in the night yet joy will come in the morning. This just proven that in every sorrow that we may feel, there is also joy that is awaiting for us.

God bless,
Peny@scrub uniforms