My adorable little kittens bring me so much joy. This last year has been a trial in many, many ways. But…the incredible support system that God has blessed me with, has sustained me.
There’s this survey I’ve been meaning to fill out. It’s from Los Angeles, part of a non-profit group seeking to gather information about mommies who have lost their babies. “L.A. Hope”, or something like that. The large manila envelope arrived sometime back in November. I looked at it, tossed it to a pile and forgot about it. Then, in January I received another, this time with a nice little note saying, in case you misplaced the survey, we would like to offer you another. I wasn’t annoyed; rather, I wasn’t ready.
Then, this weekend happened. I had the luxury of doing nothing all day on Saturday. School had let out two days prior, and my agenda was to have no agenda at all. Once it was Sunday, motivation came over me and I decided to do some much needed organizing in the baby’s room. We call it that. Or, we call it Wyatt’s room.
Both book shelves were messy. Items from the beautiful baby shower, tiny stuffed animals that had been tied to presents, all of it was squished behind books and falling off each level. Brian’s model cars were kind of here and there…with no real theme or point to what was positioned where. Based on what I saw, I decided to make three piles: one for keep, one for sell or give away, and one for trash.
As I took each item off the shelf, some other item would inevitably fall into my lap. I had to read each card. I had to re-read each sweet little note to Wyatt, carefully affixed inside each baby book. I cried and I looked around at the diminishing presence of his life. Over this last fourteen months, I have gone in and out of that room, doing this very thing. Organizing, shuffling, sighing, shouting, sobbing, throwing away, keeping, re-piling, adding to, taking out, all sorts of actions and more. Because of this however, his baby things have started to disappear.
I started to cry harder. Brian entered the room and sat down on the recliner. He stayed by my side for the rest of the morning. What an incredible support he is to me. Now the shelves look so pretty and clean. Though now that I see them posted in a photo, I can’t get over the three different colors of wood! Ugh!
At times I wonder how I’m doing. Like, if I was earning a grade for handling my life without my son, what would it be? How well am I supporting my husband in the loss of his dear boy? Why is this question even taking up space in my poor, tired brain?
What am I to do? What was I supposed to do this past year? There is no guide for me. There is no step-by-step process of grieving and honoring baby, losing and loving baby simultaneously.
Sunday was exhausting, emotionally. For all you loss-moms, or whatever we call ourselves, you know precisely what I’m talking about. This life can be incredibly draining, sometimes.
That survey may have to happen another weekend.