Set yourself a new intention to inspire your next path in grief and healing. It might be to live your life with more kindness or maybe you might intend to live your life more wholeheartedly in honor of your children. Spend some time with this one, go and get some fresh air. What is it that you want out of this project? Whatever your new intention is, write it down with the words "I intend to ______in honor or my precious child/ren _______".
I intend to not let my daughter's death be in vain, in honor of my precious children Kayla and Emily (and bugaboo, our first loss. I just pulled that name out of my butt, we don't call him anything, it was so early, we didn't know the sex. In my heart he was a boy, but it feels wrong to me to give him a real name. I guess to put him in the same category as Kayla, as he was gone almost as quick as we knew he was there. Ok wow, that was like the longest in parenthesis ever).
There are very few advantages to being a loss mom. In fact I would say there are none, apart for one. For every tear that has fallen, for every time we thought our hearts were going to break, for every time we just could not believe this was happening (or happening again), we are that much more aware and thankful for our living children. Parenthood is hectic and stressful, our kids misbehave. It's so easy to get caught up in the daily grind, to give in to your frustrations and forget how goddamn lucky you are to have your living child.
I hear it all the time, parents complaining about their kids, parents saying ugh, do you want them? I'll give them away. I know those parents love their children, and I know they cannot bear to think about losing them. But when you've never lost one, you cannot appreciate them to the nth degree that a loss parent can, and for that I feel grateful. I am grateful that I know, every day how lucky I am. It may not be all day every day, but I feel grateful for my daughter ever single day. Of course there are days when I get caught up in life, or times when I look back on a picture when she was a newborn and think, where did the time go? What happened to my tiny baby? She doesn't even look like a baby anymore, but a little girl. But I know that despite the time moving quickly, I know I cherished each and every one of those days.
When she was really little, we napped together every day. I sometimes felt guilty about it, my husband was off at his "real job" (I had a very easy baby, I often felt guilty as a SAHM) while I was here, snoozing on the couch with my baby. But I told myself, she is only this little once. Some day she won't want to nap with me anymore (that day came all too quickly around 10 months) and the housework will still be there tomorrow. I am grateful that I snap way too many pictures of her each day. I am grateful that I made the decision to quit my job to stay home with her. Yes, it was an adjustment as we were accustomed to two incomes, but buying clothes or having a newer car or eating out more often; it's not even a question when it comes to, is it worth it? I have never, nor will I ever regret quitting my job to be with her.
I am grateful that Emily looks like her sister. Despite still being curious, I at least have a pretty good idea of what she would have looked like at this age. We are still undecided about having another baby, but I am mostly leaning toward no. One of those reasons is, we hoped and prayed and pleaded for Emily, we fought with every emotion we had in us, we worried every day of my pregnancy and somehow we all made it through. Had I not gone through what I did, had we not lost Kayla, I can pretty much say for certain we would have wanted another child. I am scared of another loss, or more complications.
But one of the most glaring reasons is, I'm happy. I'm content. Our memory of Kayla, and Emily is enough. Not that parents who haven't had a loss think their first child wasn't enough, but when you come so close to having nothing, you see how amazing it is to have something. If we hadn't gone through this, I think I would be more likely to have another just because that is what most people do. I feel like not only do I appreciate Emily more because of Kayla, but I can have a deeper, more satisfactory relationship with her as an only child. The thought of having two children, being twice as busy, twice as tired, dealing with a newborn while a jealous toddler acts up, sleepless nights (because if the first baby is amazing, the next one won't be) just makes me feel sad. I feel like I would just be going through the motions, but not really enjoying it.
With just Emily to tend to, I am less stressed, I have time to play with her, the house isn't a crazy zoo with children running around every where. I don't know if I am explaining this right, but at this point in my grieving, I feel content. I do have two children, but I only parent one. My heart is big enough to love them both, but I can truly enjoy my time with Emily, I think more than I could if we had two living children. I think maybe I have always been more of an "only child kind of parent", but never knew it until faced with loss. Perhaps without the loss, I wouldn't have seen that having just one is ok, in a world where you're crazy or there is something wrong with you if you only want one.
Of course I would never say everything turned out for the best. If I could have both my girls here with me on earth I would in a heartbeat. And who knows, maybe if we did have another child, I would be just as happy, if not more happy. I guess the bottom line is, losing Kayla taught me to appreciate the now, to appreciate what I have, instead of always looking toward something more and being so busy striving for the next thing, that you don't know what you already have. Which I think is important in a world where we are constantly pushing ourselves to be faster, better, to have more, to want more.
So for my picture for today, here is a picture of my two beautiful girls. Kayla who is always watching over me, and cheering me on, and Emily who keeps me going each day.
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