living after the death of a baby, living with Autism, living as a family of six, living on our organic homestead, living miserably, hopefully, and with joy, and somedays just living

Catching up


This post has been writing it’s self for a awhile.  I’m so afraid I may hurt someone’s feeling with this one I’ve left it alone.  But I’m over run with it right now.  I guess if you’re reading this at any point and are offended you can just stop reading right?  It’s my blog, so it is about me.

Five years ago we had already been trying to get pregnant for nearly two years, and we had managed to get a stick to turn blue earlier in the year only to lose that baby that Easter, he or she would have been born somewhere around Dec 10th.  Most of our friends weren’t married or even dating their current spouses.  We were decidedly ahead of the game.  Joyfully we celebrated awaiting Kate’s arrival, most of you know that.  I loved my pregnancy, and in looking back I know I had terrible morning sickness, but I remember my pregnancy as blissful.  It was a sunkissed moment in my life.

Fast forwarding to now everyone is catching up.  I love it!  I am a self professed baby lover!  I love all things pregnancy and baby.  I know the miraculous joy babies bring.  I love watching these little beings change the people I love.  I love watching my friends become parents.  Being a veteran parent, the first, (though Kelly and Lorry have us beat in a practical sense) and a parent of twins I’m often bestowed with many comments such as…  How do you get through it, or more popularly how did you do it with two?  You guys are super parents.  And while I love the erroneous statement that were some type of heroes, and to share my experiences as a new mom of two and then one, of  how we managed, and hopefully share hope, and perhaps a useful parenting tip.  What I long to hear is something along the line of… My goodness now that our baby is here, how did you ever get though not taking Kate home?  How did you ever say good-bye?  How did you live through that?  I can’t believe you made it through?

You see, while were grieving during our most devastating days we knew very few other parents.  Those who were were often the most sympathetic, or perhaps, most sincere.  They knew what we lost.  When I felt lost, when I thought no one understood, I often held on to knowing that one day those I loved would one day hold their own little orb of light, and somehow catch a moment of better understanding.

Don’t get me wrong I never thought that I should be your first thought when the doctor handed you your baby, nor our sadness.  At least I hope not.  But somewhere secretly (perhaps selfishly?)  I hoped that Katie might visit your thoughts in the days that your baby is new.  That maybe there was a very dark ahh-haa moment.  And I know that speaking of Kate must be hard, or perhaps impossible to find a way to broach the subject. I know those comments will likely never be heard, nor do I hold it against you that such comments were never said. You’re happy and no one wants to invite misery to a time of utter joy. I understand, I really do. It’s just that sometimes in talking about diaper changes, sleep deprivation, and new baby scares and fears. I can’t help but think, oh but all that stuff is easy, it’s not getting to do it that’s hard. Now it would be a lie to say the first few month with Petra and Elijah were easy, in fact it would be a lie to say it’s easy now. Deep in me though, no matter how hard it is, no matter how scary it is, as long as their chests rise and fall, as long as their hearts beat, it’s manageable. I know it makes me a better parent, but I’d take being a lesser one any day.

I think that being far away and not being able to share your joys in a tangible way, perhaps reaches deeper to stir up a bit of sadness.  I think being so far from Katie really engulfed me this Christmas, and I think all the new babies this month stirred to the pot too.  I miss not getting to press my cheek to the warm cheek of your new baby.  I’m sad that by the time I hold him or her, he or she will likely no longer be a new born.  I’m sad because I think I may never hold another newborn member of our family (a long post for another day) I miss you guys.  A lot.

I also feel a bit ripped off sometimes ,that my son was dealt a bit of a shorthand, and  that he has to work harder and therefore so do I.  Sometimes feeling sorry for myself comes in the way of just wishing I could have the easy go others get. Why do I have to take it all on?  And then some days I’m glad it’s us taking it on because we are committed with a resolution of steel to make it better.  That somehow Elijah is lucky to have us, because we will walk the hard road with him.

All in all though, I’ve been pretty happy lately.  My kids are turning into amazing people they have great senses of humour, and I really like them.  I’m pretty happy here in Chicago too, though homesickness does sneak in every now and then.    Unfortunately my headaches are back and everyone here is less tolerant of them.  I worry that somehow our littles are affected deeply by my constant wincing and such.  This morning Natalia gently reached up to my temple and softly stroked  it while saying.. ow?.  Oh my broken heart, how much they are truly capable of understanding.

I miss Katie, I miss you, I hope to be home soon

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Comments on: "Catching up" (2)

  1. Hi Erron,

    If it helps to know, Katie has most definitely been in our thoughts lately. Both all through Janine’s pregnancy and into nathan’s birth. Janine didn’t want to purchase any baby related items before the birth, because she remembered so vividly how you were surrounded by so many new baby things when Katie was born, and she didn’t want to have that same experience. Like buying items would “jinx” Nathan’s birth. Janine had a lot of fear going on during her pregnancy.

    Throughout the labour, Nathan’s heart beat kept dropping everytime Janine had a contraction, and they were worried the umbilical cord might be caught under his arm, or elsewhere. Of course, I thought of Katie, staring at that heart rate monitor for hour after hour. I remember, when they finally wheeled him into our hospital room, all swaddled up, I stared at him and thought “but he’s not attached to any equipment — how will I know if he’s okay??”

    Noticing the small butterfly at the bottom of your Christmas letter, or smiling at Liam’s blog post. On our recent phone call, I asked Kyle “so what university are you hoping for, which one should we pray for” and he answered Camrose. Janine remarked to me, after the phone call, how nice it would be if that happened, because then you guys would be closer to Katie.

    In big and little ways, Katie’s too-brief life still has echos in ours. But I can’t remember the last time we ever talked about Katie directly with you or Kyle. It is your blog, and I’m glad you’re not afraid to reach out. You and Kyle and Katie and Elija and Petra and Natalia have friends every where.

  2. Erron,

    Anthony and I thought of your family numerous times during our pregnancy and delivery of Jack. We understand the love, anticipation and excitment that a couple has for starting a family, however we do not know the heartache of losing a child and cannot relate to you from experience. Our hearts bleed for you as we can now fully imagine extacly what you lost when you lost Katie.

    Anthony and I continue to discuss the loss of Katie to you and Kyle but also to the world and the difference she would have made. The difference she did make! A very BIG loss. We still do not know how you and Kyle manage your grief and how you have moved on with the growth of your family. Katie is very much a part of your family and your hearts and so she continues to be in our hearts. We think of her often and have prayed for your family often as well. Every March we think about the things she must be doing in heaven, and think of the joy she gave you while you where pregnant.

    Erron, people do wonder how you (and Kyle) are doing and how hard it must have been not to bring Katie home – please forgive us for not saying anything sooner. Personally, I have never felt “close” enough to say anything but today after reading this post I feel the need to say that we think of you often.

    You are raising wonderful children and are an admirable mother Erron.

    God bless you and your family.

    Alvina

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