Real Life

I know how hard it is to parent a child in heaven.  But sometimes I forget how hard it is to be a sibling to one.  Last night the kids were at the table doing their homework and Emma brought in a package that had arrived from gramma.  She opened the box and gave everyone their little goodies that gramma had sent.  There was something for everyone....mom, dad, the three of them, and the new baby.  And she was not happy.  After a lot of prying and a couple threats (which I am not proud of), she spilled her feelings to me.  She was upset that gramma had not sent anything for Chase.  She was afraid that Chase was being forgotten and I could see it in her eyes as her tears began to flow, that this terrified her.  She was happy that everyone including the baby had a present in the box, but nothing in there for Chase meant he was forgotten, to her.  I explained to her that I didn't like the idea of buying things all the time for Chase as we have a big collection of memories and keepsakes for him and adding more things to that collection, is not something I wanted to deal with anyway.  She insisted that it didn't have to be a lot, maybe a photo of him or a letter or note to him.  She just wanted recognition of her little brother.  That's all.  Acknowledgement that he is part of our family and always will be even though he isn't here in our presence.  I grabbed her and hugged her and told her that we were not forgetting about him.  I told her we talk about him all the time and we will talk about him to his little brother every time we hold him and play with him and that this was her job, too. She knows that we do that....she told me that whenever her friends at school ask how many there are in her family, she tells them "7: me, Karly, Reese, Chase, the new baby, mom and dad."  She said she doesn't explain what happened to Chase unless they ask.  But she wants to say and hear his name to know that he is remembered by all and is a part of all our lives.  It hurts not to feel this confirmation.  

Since we were having this conversation and I was including the other two in it as well, Reese got a real sad look on his face and said to me, "I really hope we get to bring this baby home, mom."  I told him that we most definitely will and then he said to me with raised up sad eyebrows, "Mom, do you have a different doctor this time?"  I said, "Yes, baby, I do and you are gonna love her.  She is very nice and is taking very good care of me."  To that, he replied, "Good."

Woah.  I looked at each of the kids and my heart felt so incredibly heavy.  I could see and feel their pain, their worry, their fears and I wanted nothing more than to make it all go away.  But I know I can't.  I know that, like me and Patric, through all their excitement for their newest little brother and their anticipation for taking care of him and loving on him, they are scared to the very core that this, too, will be taken away.  It's like we are all standing here, tightening our guts, just waiting for someone to punch us there again.  Because they, too, really just want Chase back.  And it's this sadness and longing that makes the rainbow very hard to see, at times, through the dark and heavy clouds in our sky above us.

Conversations with a 4-year-old...

Reese and I picked up a little buddy of his for a play date today (read: so mommy can get some work done) and as we incidentally drove by the only cemetary in town, he told his friend, "that's where they bury people who die." I don't know why, other than for conversation and he was so excited for his play date, Reese brought this up. We drove by the cemetery at least two more times throughout the day and our on our final trip home, and again seeing the cemetery, our conversation went something like this...

Reese: Mom, does God have a TV up there in his house?
Mom: Hmmm. I don't know buddy. Do you think he does? I think there are better things than TV up there.
Reese: Mom, what does God look like?
Mom: Do you remember the picture on the program for Chase's funeral?
Reese: No. Does he look like a ghost?
Mom: You mean like you can see through him?
Reese: Yeah.
Mom: I don't know, buddy. Everyone has their own idea of what God looks like. I think he looks like a normal person though, but extra kind, very gentle. Just a really nice person I guess.
Reese: Mom, are we gonna go to Heaven?
Mom: You mean like for a little while...or forever?
Reese: Yeah.
Mom: Well, babe, everyone goes to Heaven. But I don't think you have to think about that for a long time. Not 'til you get older, a lot older.
Reese: Mom, can we see Chasey?
Mom: I wish we could, buddy......I miss him. A lot. What would you do if you saw Chase?
Reese: (Quiet.)
Mom: Would you give him a hug....and then ask him if he wanted to race?
Reese: Yeah, I would.

Oh, man. How it hurts to talk about this. I can't believe this is Reese's "normal". I hate that he has to grow up like this. I have really felt the affect on Reese's life in particular lately. How big of an impact Chase would have on Reese. I think about it or talk about it to Patric every day. This is the first time Reese has ever been home with us alone. It started out special--just time with us. But after that has worn off, it has been just torture. I know he loves to be home with us. But he misses his sisters, who were home with him last year. Then before that, Emma was home being homeschooled by herself; before that, Karly was home and played with him all the time. This has been something completely new for me, having just one kid to tend to. And he doesn't like having to "wait" for me to get to him. I hate getting frustrated with his begging to play, do this, do that. But I do. And I know Chase would have made things so different. For all of us. It's hard to imagine the impact another child is going to put on your life. But it's agonizing to have to live with their absence. To say we miss him does not do it justice.

Home Alone

Reese went to pre-school yesterday. A friend asks me, "How does it feel to have some time to yourself at home--just to not have any kids around?" How does it feel? Devastating. That's how it feels. It reminds me of my broken heart, the emptiness, what is missing in my life. Right now I'm busy with work. I'm doing stuff that has to be done. But in a couple weeks I won't. I might need Reese...more than he needs me.

I've had a rough few days. It's probably hormonal...PMS, whatever. That's not what it IS, but that is what is probably emphasizing my emotions right now. I can't even explain my emotions though. I walked out of church Sunday. I started crying and couldn't stop. All I could see was Chase's "box", as the kids call it, with his baby blankets and flowers hung over it. I just had to leave. I got home, cried to Patric some more and held Reese so tight. I am so lucky to have him. I can't imagine surviving without those hugs.

Yesterday when we took Reese to school, he got scared. He started crying and couldn't stop (I know how you feel, buddy). In a room with just me, him and dad, he just fell into my chest and when we asked what was the matter, he said crying, "I'm just so scared." It was all I could do not to open the flood gates myself. He asked me to stay with him and I told him I would. I promised him over and over I would stay with him until he said it was okay for me to go. He said he didn't want me to go. I promised him with my entire being that I wouldn't leave him without talking to him first and he didn't have to stay if he didn't want to. I had done that with the girls, snuck out of the preschool or left them crying, knowing they would have fun once they got into their activities. But not this time.

I promised Chase so many things in the NICU that I can't live up to. I don't have the opportunity to keep those promises. I will NOT ever again promise my kids something that I can't keep. There was no way I was going to walk out of Reese's pre-school yesterday without him knowing I was leaving, IF he was okay with that. As expected, he warmed up after circle time and gave me the thumbs up. I told him I was going to leave and he was okay with it. All I could think of was Chase...and promises....and how I could not lie to Reese like it felt I had to Chase.

I picked him up just a short while later (the time flew for me, being so busy) and I couldn't wait to have him in my arms. I have constant reminders of the moment Chase died and when I drop Reese off, one of them is standing right there, dropping of or picking up their child. Seeing Reese, though, feeling him, touching, him, hearing him, erases it all, for a moment.