Alex keeps bringing up Andrew. It's been a nightly occurrence now. He keeps talking about him being dead.
I'm handling it alright but am wondering what's going on in his little heart and mind. Is he struggling? What is he thinking about? Is Andrew on his mind more?
I keep affirming what he says and make sure that he knows that it's alright that he's talking about it.
In fact, I am kind of glad he's bringing Andrew up but is there more to this than what he's showing? That is a possibility. It's also possible that he's unsure of how to talk about what is going on inside of himself. And I'm not sure how to help him if he is dealing with something regarding Andrew's death more directly than before.
God, I really need your help. You know all. And you know my little boy completely. Show Mark and I what he needs as he grieves and processes Andrew's death. Give us patience as he tries to talk to us. And, as before, I ask that you heal his little heart and soul in this area so that he can become what the man You want him to be.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Does Andrew Think that Lynn Replaced Him?
The Time: Bedtime
The Place: Alex's room
The Setting: The final tucking in of bed and the giving of kisses and hugs
Alex was the last of my boys that I tucked in tonight. Lately, he has only wanted daddy to read from the Chronicles of Narnia series. So Mark was done and had rejoined Lynn in the dining room to give her a bottle. I had just gotten off the phone with my mom doing a check-in, hello call since she went to the ER yesterday and to let her and my dad join in on the bedtime stories I read with Ryan.
I kissed Alex on the forehead, told him I loved him and turned to leave when he asked me a question.
"Mom, when are you going to have another baby?"
That caught my attention. Alex thinks we should have 5 or 6 more kids. A thought that is kind of amusing and also unsettling. It's not going to happen.
"Well sweetheart," I said. "We're not planning on having any more."
He had turned over in his bed by now and was looking at me with a quizzical look. "Why not?"
"Because we've had 6 children. Well, I have given birth to 5 of you and when I carried Lynn, it was very hard on mommy."
I know he doesn't understand all that's involved in pregnancy.
"You mean there are 4 of us now." He said.
"Yes there are."
"The other two are dead."
He said it so definitely. With such finality and bluntness. I swallowed wondering where this conversation will go.
"Remember," I thought to myself. "They said Alex would be like this. Straight to the point. Seemingly blunt."
"One is a girl. The other is Andrew."
"Yes." I responded while wondering where this conversation was going to end up going and how would I handle it.
"Too bad he's not here with us." Alex said.
I kept looking him in the eye hoping that my face showed love and acceptance.
"And he can see us and is happy that Lynn has joined us."
"You mean he's happy. I thought he would be sad thinking that we had Lynn to replace him."
"Interesting thought." I said. "But no. He's very happy for us and know that Lynn does not replace him. Nothing could ever replace him."
"Hmm." he responded.
"Do you think we had Lynn to replace Andrew?" Alex had an odd look on his face like I had just said something peculiar.
"No."
He found that question so absurd that he turned his back to me and said good night.
Whew! That was an easier round of Andrew talk to handle.
The Place: Alex's room
The Setting: The final tucking in of bed and the giving of kisses and hugs
Alex was the last of my boys that I tucked in tonight. Lately, he has only wanted daddy to read from the Chronicles of Narnia series. So Mark was done and had rejoined Lynn in the dining room to give her a bottle. I had just gotten off the phone with my mom doing a check-in, hello call since she went to the ER yesterday and to let her and my dad join in on the bedtime stories I read with Ryan.
I kissed Alex on the forehead, told him I loved him and turned to leave when he asked me a question.
"Mom, when are you going to have another baby?"
That caught my attention. Alex thinks we should have 5 or 6 more kids. A thought that is kind of amusing and also unsettling. It's not going to happen.
"Well sweetheart," I said. "We're not planning on having any more."
He had turned over in his bed by now and was looking at me with a quizzical look. "Why not?"
"Because we've had 6 children. Well, I have given birth to 5 of you and when I carried Lynn, it was very hard on mommy."
I know he doesn't understand all that's involved in pregnancy.
"You mean there are 4 of us now." He said.
"Yes there are."
"The other two are dead."
He said it so definitely. With such finality and bluntness. I swallowed wondering where this conversation will go.
"Remember," I thought to myself. "They said Alex would be like this. Straight to the point. Seemingly blunt."
"One is a girl. The other is Andrew."
"Yes." I responded while wondering where this conversation was going to end up going and how would I handle it.
"Too bad he's not here with us." Alex said.
I kept looking him in the eye hoping that my face showed love and acceptance.
"And he can see us and is happy that Lynn has joined us."
"You mean he's happy. I thought he would be sad thinking that we had Lynn to replace him."
"Interesting thought." I said. "But no. He's very happy for us and know that Lynn does not replace him. Nothing could ever replace him."
"Hmm." he responded.
"Do you think we had Lynn to replace Andrew?" Alex had an odd look on his face like I had just said something peculiar.
"No."
He found that question so absurd that he turned his back to me and said good night.
Whew! That was an easier round of Andrew talk to handle.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Thinking of Andrew
Lynn is 2 1/2 months old now.
People have started commenting that she is smiling and so attentive and alert. She is extremely observant. She has been curious and attentive from day one. And her smile, she kept secret from everyone except her father and I for a month and a half.
She began grabbing at my shirt and arms since she was about a month old as well. A little tug that meant so good to feel.
And most recently she has begun to reach out for objects. In fact, I think that last night while I was cheering her on and encouraging her in her pursuit of trying to touch her little star hanging down in front of her that she put her hand in front of her eyes. And,at this moment, her eyes got all big like she had just realized she had a hand. I giggled, kissed her on the forehead and talked to her about her hand. Boy was she amazed. It was so delightful.
She is doing so well and growing so quickly. I swear in a week from one bath to the next, she has grown an inch. And she is getting plump as is custom for infants.
In the midst of this great joy and my extreme pride in my daughter, it is hard not to think of Andrew.
I have noticed before, with other babies, how behind Andrew was in his development after all. A fact I was blind to when he was alive due to my silly pride and great love for him. At three months he began to smile. He began to tug on my shirt and arms around that time as well.
I was so blind.
In his own darling way, he did great things in his little life. And he may have been behind in his development but I am still so proud of him. I am just amazed as I realize this more and more with each day that Lynn grows and learns so much. But, no matter him being behind or ahead or on schedule in one area or another, I will always cherish him and his memory. That will never change.
I am his mother. And he was my little special.
People have started commenting that she is smiling and so attentive and alert. She is extremely observant. She has been curious and attentive from day one. And her smile, she kept secret from everyone except her father and I for a month and a half.
She began grabbing at my shirt and arms since she was about a month old as well. A little tug that meant so good to feel.
And most recently she has begun to reach out for objects. In fact, I think that last night while I was cheering her on and encouraging her in her pursuit of trying to touch her little star hanging down in front of her that she put her hand in front of her eyes. And,at this moment, her eyes got all big like she had just realized she had a hand. I giggled, kissed her on the forehead and talked to her about her hand. Boy was she amazed. It was so delightful.
She is doing so well and growing so quickly. I swear in a week from one bath to the next, she has grown an inch. And she is getting plump as is custom for infants.
In the midst of this great joy and my extreme pride in my daughter, it is hard not to think of Andrew.
I have noticed before, with other babies, how behind Andrew was in his development after all. A fact I was blind to when he was alive due to my silly pride and great love for him. At three months he began to smile. He began to tug on my shirt and arms around that time as well.
I was so blind.
In his own darling way, he did great things in his little life. And he may have been behind in his development but I am still so proud of him. I am just amazed as I realize this more and more with each day that Lynn grows and learns so much. But, no matter him being behind or ahead or on schedule in one area or another, I will always cherish him and his memory. That will never change.
I am his mother. And he was my little special.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Just Talking With a Friend
Mark is starting to read this blog. I am not totally sure how much he has read or how often but I am aware that there are times when he does this. I see it as a sign that he is making progress in his grief process as I am in my own way as well.
At first he adamantly refused to read it. I wanted to read him it so that he could understand what I was feeling. How Andrew's death was affecting me and what I was seeing in the boys. Also because it is an easier way for me to talk about this than verbally.
I would write something and ask him at first if he wanted to read. He would shake his head and look away or turn away from me completely. And at first, it hurt a bit that he wouldn't read this. It felt almost like a rejection of me in a way. But I have moved past that. I know that is not what he was doing. It was too much for him. Too personal. Too close to home for him.
My feelings may have been hurt a bit initially but I know that the subject matter that I write about here isn't necessarily pretty. Or fun. Or nice. Or anything easy. Sometimes it is very difficult to write about how much it hurts or to document the memories. But it is one way that I have found an outlet for what I feel and how I am processing this awful thing that happened that shouldn't have happened.
Actually I find it surprising that anyone would keep reading this really because of the basic topic of my entries. Well, if someone else lost their child then it makes some sense. I also understand my mom reading it daily and my sister reading it regularly. They are my immediate family. Maybe even some of the extended family checking in from time to time. Possibly a few of my closer friends. But really, anyone else, other than accidental hits on my blog not knowing what it is, I don't get.
Well, it doesn't matter. I kind of pretend I am talking to one of my most dear and treasured friends when I write here. Someone who has always supported me, encouraged me and made me feel safe. Accepted despite my imperfect struggles in life. Not judged in the moment because I am just allowed to vent and state what's on my mind because I need to get it out. My thoughts expressed here are just something that needs to be said to someone who doesn't take them as the sum of all I am at the moment or something more than just what is going on at the moment. My way of processing and trying to sort through all of this and find healing for my heart and soul. As though I am getting a huge hug at the end of each entry or a few affectionate squeezes on the shoulder before being told that it was good of me to share or something else nice like that that just shows support and nothing else.
Thanks for "listening" cherished friend. You have no idea how much you mean to me. I look forward to talking with you soon. I don't deserve such a good friend as you.
At first he adamantly refused to read it. I wanted to read him it so that he could understand what I was feeling. How Andrew's death was affecting me and what I was seeing in the boys. Also because it is an easier way for me to talk about this than verbally.
I would write something and ask him at first if he wanted to read. He would shake his head and look away or turn away from me completely. And at first, it hurt a bit that he wouldn't read this. It felt almost like a rejection of me in a way. But I have moved past that. I know that is not what he was doing. It was too much for him. Too personal. Too close to home for him.
My feelings may have been hurt a bit initially but I know that the subject matter that I write about here isn't necessarily pretty. Or fun. Or nice. Or anything easy. Sometimes it is very difficult to write about how much it hurts or to document the memories. But it is one way that I have found an outlet for what I feel and how I am processing this awful thing that happened that shouldn't have happened.
Actually I find it surprising that anyone would keep reading this really because of the basic topic of my entries. Well, if someone else lost their child then it makes some sense. I also understand my mom reading it daily and my sister reading it regularly. They are my immediate family. Maybe even some of the extended family checking in from time to time. Possibly a few of my closer friends. But really, anyone else, other than accidental hits on my blog not knowing what it is, I don't get.
Well, it doesn't matter. I kind of pretend I am talking to one of my most dear and treasured friends when I write here. Someone who has always supported me, encouraged me and made me feel safe. Accepted despite my imperfect struggles in life. Not judged in the moment because I am just allowed to vent and state what's on my mind because I need to get it out. My thoughts expressed here are just something that needs to be said to someone who doesn't take them as the sum of all I am at the moment or something more than just what is going on at the moment. My way of processing and trying to sort through all of this and find healing for my heart and soul. As though I am getting a huge hug at the end of each entry or a few affectionate squeezes on the shoulder before being told that it was good of me to share or something else nice like that that just shows support and nothing else.
Thanks for "listening" cherished friend. You have no idea how much you mean to me. I look forward to talking with you soon. I don't deserve such a good friend as you.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Thoughts of Andrew Are Close By
It's always good to talk with friends who are special to you. Some people just have a way of lifting your spirits and adding that extra something to a day . . . How blessed friendship is.
I had a conversation today with two colleagues. A bit of back and forth, some joking around and swapping of fun stories about kids. (Obviously, we're all parents.) Of course, Lynn came up as a topic of discussion. I have to hold myself back not to talk about her too much. I'm just too excited about having a girl - finally. I can't believe how happy I am that I have a daughter! I love all of my children very much and consider each one to be so very dear and special in their own ways. Andrew and Lynn are no exception to this.
And, as usual, thoughts of Andrew are close by. If I am speaking with someone who doesn't know about Andrew, I can't seem to stop from having the thought cross my mind that that person has no idea that we lost a child a year and a half ago. It's kind of annoying to me. Granted it is brief but I wonder if someday they'll stop.
Now, if the person does know, the thought doesn't really occur unless I am already struggling with something pertaining to Andrew's death.
So I had one person I was speaking with that knows about Andrew while the other has no idea. Well, unless the one told the other without my knowledge. But there's probably no reason for that to happen. So that inner struggle was going on. Not in any debilitating way or anything. Nothing emotional going on. The thought just came to me as described above as a thought. Like I said, somewhat annoying for me.
Grief.
Loss.
Andrew.
And life goes on.
I had a conversation today with two colleagues. A bit of back and forth, some joking around and swapping of fun stories about kids. (Obviously, we're all parents.) Of course, Lynn came up as a topic of discussion. I have to hold myself back not to talk about her too much. I'm just too excited about having a girl - finally. I can't believe how happy I am that I have a daughter! I love all of my children very much and consider each one to be so very dear and special in their own ways. Andrew and Lynn are no exception to this.
And, as usual, thoughts of Andrew are close by. If I am speaking with someone who doesn't know about Andrew, I can't seem to stop from having the thought cross my mind that that person has no idea that we lost a child a year and a half ago. It's kind of annoying to me. Granted it is brief but I wonder if someday they'll stop.
Now, if the person does know, the thought doesn't really occur unless I am already struggling with something pertaining to Andrew's death.
So I had one person I was speaking with that knows about Andrew while the other has no idea. Well, unless the one told the other without my knowledge. But there's probably no reason for that to happen. So that inner struggle was going on. Not in any debilitating way or anything. Nothing emotional going on. The thought just came to me as described above as a thought. Like I said, somewhat annoying for me.
Grief.
Loss.
Andrew.
And life goes on.
An Observation on Birthdates
I had to document all of the kids' birthdates on a form yesterday. The kids were in bed and actually asleep pretty quickly, Mark went to bed early and I had the late shift with the little princess. So that's when I deal with the mail that comes in the day it arrives otherwise I tend to forget.
I start writing down all of the birthdates and, of course, Andrew and Lynn's are the last two I record on the form right next to each other. And found this interesting.
Andrew's DOB 12/18/10
Lynn's DOB 10/18/12
The exact opposite of each other.
Almost like it was done on purpose. With intent. By design.
God is at work in our lives. Thank God God is at work in our lives.
I start writing down all of the birthdates and, of course, Andrew and Lynn's are the last two I record on the form right next to each other. And found this interesting.
Andrew's DOB 12/18/10
Lynn's DOB 10/18/12
The exact opposite of each other.
Almost like it was done on purpose. With intent. By design.
God is at work in our lives. Thank God God is at work in our lives.
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