It’s been one week since we lost Baby Jack, as he’s referred to on a daily basis around here. Boo was much more attached to the baby than I realized (in fact, so was I), so we’ve had a lot of discussions about how these things happen, how sad we all feel, and what comes next. When we told him what happened, he cried, “But I wanted the baby!” and threw himself sobbing on the couch. So sad.. so did we, my poor Boo, so did we. It’s so cruel that we had only just reached the point of not only acceptance, but looking forward to our lives changing. While we knew this might happen, that there was always that chance, that this wasn’t a surprise, it still hurts an amazing and horrible amount.

I’m still mostly at a loss for words. I spend most of the day actively ignoring everything bubbling just under the surface. That’s not too hard with such active kiddos to care for — and I feel incredibly lucky to have them. They don’t need Mommy falling apart on them, so I don’t. Lying on the couch all day, eating ice cream, and crying isn’t really possible right now, as much as that’s what I’d rather be doing. It’s sort of crazy that one has to actually find time to mourn.

Unfortunately for me, that time is hitting at night, around bedtime, when there’s nothing left to do but think. I know mourning is a process and there’s a lot to work through with this whole situation, but it still sucks. I’m actually afraid of going to bed because I can’t stop crying.

There have been some precious moments this week.. moments I hope to never forget. Not only Jack’s birth, as terrible and painful as that was, but the crystalline moment when I felt so grateful to at least be able to see him and hold him and say goodbye, which didn’t happen with A.B.

Another gut wrenching moment was watching Boo hold his tiny baby brother at the funeral home, wrapped up in a blanket that Boo picked out. Boo wasn’t remotely afraid or aware that what he was doing in looking at and holding this tiny body might be gross or unsightly somehow. He was curious, he was sad, and he obviously really loved that little baby. I am so proud of him, even as I’m so sad and lost with everything that’s happened.

One of the strangest things I’ve experienced with losing a baby whilst caring for other living children is the juxtaposition between feeling extreme distress, anger, love, and pain, due to the loss of the baby, or more accurately that baby’s potential, but simultaneously continuing to enjoy your living children, laughter continuing to ring through the house, kisses and hugs still being given, and stories at bedtime still being read. It seems almost wrong that the world continues to spin; yet it does.

And so the days pass, Boo walks up and says, “Baby Jack came out too soon and Abigail was a great swimmer but tied a knot in her cord,” and life goes on. We really miss the baby, Baby Jack, and I wonder where we’ll go next. My whole life is still flipped upside down, even though this even has effectively brought us back to where we were several months ago. Yet nothing will ever be the same. We may have another baby some day, or we may not, but we’ll always have those memories of Jack and how we re-evaluated our family and our life. I honestly thought I’d feel some relief, but I don’t. I just want my baby back. I want my life upside down. I want my big boy to have the little brother he so loves.

But I can’t have any of that. And so, one week in, I’m still lost. Aimless. Hurting. But life goes on.  My kids need me, even if for some of them that only means answering questions about memories.

This entry was posted on Monday, August 31st, 2009 at 1:30 am and is filed under Preggers. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.