Sometimes I'm so wrapped up in my own grieving and pain that I tend to forget everyone else's. Tonight, Emma came out of her room after I'd put her in bed and she was crying. She said she was missing Alexander. I told her it was okay to feel sad and it's okay to cry and let it out. And she did. She put her arms around my neck and cried into my neck. It breaks my heart to see how much she's hurting. She loved him so much.
It's still so hard to believe that he's gone. My house has never been cleaner. I'd rather it be back to being messy and disorganized again if it meant he'd be back.
Over the weekend I had the itch to rearrange things. We moved a TON of things. And it wasn't small stuff either. We moved couches, playhouse, train table, etc. Rearranged entire rooms. The house has a different look and feel now and I like that. It's almost as if I don't have any control whatsoever over my emotional chaos but I CAN control the physical chaos in the house.
I want to switch Emma into Alexander's bedroom when Jeff is ready. I can never put another baby in that room without always flashing back to the day and moment when I found him every time I open the door. So we'll paint the room lavender and decorate it for Emma. She'll love having the larger room anyway.
Something that all of this has taught me is patience. I've never been known for having any patience at all. But I find myself a lot more patient with Emma about certain things. She likes to draw bedtime out as long as possible and beg for cuddles and stories etc. When I find myself getting frustrated because I just want to go downstairs and watch tv and get lost in fantasy for a little while, I tell myself "What if she dies tonight in her sleep.... would I regret not having cuddled with her when she asked?" The answer is always yes. So I always lay down with her when she asks.
Because I know she's having as hard of a time wrapping her mind around all of this as I am. One minute she's holding her baby brother in her arms and then during his nap, he dies. She never got to say goodbye. I honestly just realized that she probably has never really had closure. She never saw his body after he died. I ran out of the house with him so fast that she didn't even notice. She never saw him at the hospital or even at the viewing. We thought it would be best for her. But thinking of it now, I wonder what on earth she's thinking about everything. He literally just disappeared for her. And we're supposed to expect her to understand that his little body is now in a tiny marble box on the bookcase???? Or even more confusing, in Mommy's new necklace??
Tonight she asked me if we could go to the store and get a picture frame for her room and put a picture of her holding him in it. How could I say no to that? We will absolutely do that.
I'm still struggling to find meaning in all of this. Struggling to find the "lesson" I am supposed to be learning. One thing I have definitely learned is not taking for granted what I have. When I see someone talk about how their baby was up every 2 hours and they are so tired, I want to scream "At least your baby is alive to cry all night." Or complaining about pregnancy, I struggle not to say "At least your baby probably won't die." or "Be grateful that you've made it further than I did." So much I took for granted and never realized. If we're blessed enough to have another baby, I know that I will now be thankful every time that baby cries and wakes me up.... because they will be alive.
What I wouldn't give to breathe in his wonderful smell right now.
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