School begins

Tomorrow Reese starts school....and as usual, I will miss him.  The first day of kindergarten, when I'm sending one of my kids, is always one of the saddest days for me.  He is a little apprehensive, but very excited to be with his friends, I know.  He'd rather stay in the comfort of home, but knows this is his next journey he will embark on.  So off another little Pearson heads to school.  And the next Pearson, well, he'll never get to.  I am sad for this, too.  The kids should all be in school during the days, Chase home with mom, waiting to pick them up every afternoon.  But that is not the way it is.  The girls are my students this year, teaching me as I teach them.  And we get to visit little brother at lunch times, parties and field trips when we can.  With another little brother floating above us everywhere we go.

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.

Wise beyond her years....

We had a crazy morning. Actually, it didn't start out too crazy, but it was one of those that got away from us and we were scrambling at the end. The girls got up, different times, had breakfast while I showered. One got dressed, the other wasn't finished yet when I got out. I made their lunches, got dressed and fixed hair and it was time to go. Only Emma didn't have her "stuff" together. She had her homework done, just not put in her backpack and she knew she had swim today but she didn't have her things packed in her bag. And she couldn't find them, either. (I hope this sounds familiar to at least a few of you reading this...) As 8:00 arrives, our scheduled time to leave the house, the girls are not ready and I start to get a little extra demanding (does that sound not TOO mean?). Karly, who was all ready with everything except her shoes at 7:00 am, doesn't have, guess what, her shoes on and can't find them, either. When I say, "Find Them," rather harshly, she throws me some dagger looks and I get mad. She is the queen of dirty looks (yes, the princess I wrote about in my last post). So I decided to call her on this and told her that when she gives me those "nasty" looks, it makes me feel the same as if she was calling me mean names or something. I asked her to not do that. She said she was "having a bad morning" so I told her to tell me that, not give me those looks, and I'd help her. Anyway, we made up and obstacle #1 was behind us.

Now for the whammy. I am all over Emma for not having her school stuff ready and messing around wasting time, making us late for school. I tell her there are consequences for this, from the school, not just me and she needs to be responsible. She needs to have her cap, goggles and swim suit packed the night before, along with all of her homework so we don't have to go through this in the morning. I ask her if she can be responsible. She says, "Yes" and I can tell she knows she messed up. But then she says, "mom, do you get mad at me when you are angry about Chase?" Ouch. Crap--not what I wanted to send her off to school with....in about 3 minutes. I told her absolutely not (I hope so) and that I am always angry about Chase and will be, in some respect, the rest of my life. But I told her that she is what keeps me going every day. Because of her, (and her siblings, and her dad), I can make it through the day, even though I miss Chase so much. Without her, I tell her, I couldn't do it. I need her. I tell her I'm sorry that I got mad at her, but even though I am sad about Chase, I still have to be her mom and I still have to teach her to be responsible and that is what I'm trying to do. I gave her a big hug, wiped her tears, told her how much I loved her and walked her into school. We joked about a few things and she had a smile on when she walked into the classroom.

Ugh. She is one amazing kid. I talked to her teacher briefly when she walked to her desk and told her a little about our morning....and our lives. EJ was all okay when she went in. But it doesn't change the fact of what she's been through and what she knows and how she hurts, too. She has an awesome teacher who is very in tune to her and is aware of how special of a kid she is. I can't even begin to explain to my daughter what she means to me. But I can try to show her every day, while I'm still being mom, too.

She's the Tough One

She's stubborn but she's brave, she's conniving but she's compassionate and she knows more than any 2nd grader should ever have to know. And today, she had the toughest lesson of her life.

Karly was picked for Student of the Week in her class and she had to fill out a poster with things about her to share with her classmates. We took pictures of her pets, our house, she drew her favorite food, wrote her favorite colors, listed her friends, and pasted photos of her aspired jobs. We also had to include a photo of our family. This was our first obstacle with this project and it is one I had not yet been faced with. I had already thought about it, what our family pictures would be--for the rest of our lives. Family pictures would always be difficult for me because no matter what kind of family picture, cousins on my side, cousins on Patric's side, pictures of the kids or a picture of our family, there would always be someone missing. This is a painful reminder that I don't ever see going away. I have a family picture of us in the living room taken just before I got pregnant with Chase and I remember thinking how "full" our lives seemed in that picture and how on earth were we going to handle one more Pearson. Now, when I look at that picture, all I see is what is missing. Our beautiful son, their handsome baby brother. I decided one of the first times looking at that photo after Chase died that I would always be holding him for every family picture from here on out. I would hold his blanket or something physical, something significant that would represent Chase in the photograph. We took a snapshot family photo for Karly's poster yesterday and I wanted Chase in it somehow, whether or not Karly wanted to explain it to her class. I needed Chase in it. So Karly held her Chase blanket in the photo and we left it at that.

Later that night, it was time to get her show-and-tell item(s) that she would be sharing with her classmates as part of the Student of the Week priveleges. She asked what we thought she should take and after a few suggestions of her American Girl doll or a stuffed animal, she disappeared to her bedroom. She returned with her photograph of her holding Chase in the NICU, moments before he died. And she had a smile on her face.

This is the same girl that I warned her teacher the first day of school was not comfortable talking about her baby brother and to please "protect" her for me from any kids that might try to ask her about him. I did not know what to think. On one hand, I was extremely comforted in the fact that she wanted to share him with her classmates. On the other hand, I was so deeply petrified that she would get asked a heartless question about the picture in all it's uneducated eye's gory and she would get hurt. All I want to do is protect her from hurt. And I think at 7 years old, I should be able to do that as her mom. How was I to know how this might unfold? The potential for invited catastrophe was terrifying. I told her to show her dad what she picked. She did and I could Patric was touched. He was proud. I was too. So very proud of her for even thinking about doing this. But I just couldn't bare her getting hurt. The hurt that you just can't take away no matter what because you can't bring back her baby brother to make it all better. After seeing Patric's approving nod to her when he saw the picture, I felt better. I asked her if she was sure she felt comfortable with this and she said, without hesitation, "yes". Where is the rule book on grief and how to handle situations like this with your 7-year-old? Why can't someone just tell me what to do? I feel like I am making decisions that will affect her for life. The way she deals with this now, will affect what she takes with her as a memory of her baby brother forever. Of course all of our decisions have the potential to affect our children's lives but this, this is something parents shouldn't HAVE to deal with.

I walked her to her classroom and had a brief talk with her teacher about what was going on. I also talked to the school counselor and asked for her help, too. Between the both of them, my apprehensive willingness to allow this and Karly's undying strength, the day was a success. She told her class all about herself, her family, her pets and her favorite things. She shared with her entire class her baby brother by showing her picture and talking about him. And, unbeknownst to her at the time, she has a classmate who lost a baby sister and when she shared her story of Chase, he spoke up and shared his baby sister with the class.

I can't tell you how this makes me feel. I can't tell you how proud I am of my little girl. She has always been my tough little girl. But this gives a whole new meaning to the word. She has always been strong, physically. But now, I know she is strong emotionally, too. She has compassion like not very many 2nd graders could ever have, and thankfully so. She sacrificed exposing herself in a way even adults struggle to do, to be able to share her baby brother with the world. And maybe, just maybe, this 7-year-old made another 7-year-old feel comfort in his journey of such undeserving pain and grief. Maybe he knows if Karly can talk about her loss, it might be something he decides he wants to do, too. If not, though, I am so glad that he spoke up. Because I know his mama is just as proud of him as I am Karly.

I am comforted in a way that will last forever. Chase, you are missed little buddy. And you would have been proud of the way your sister showed you off today. Because you are not here, but you are with us. And you always will be. We love you, Maverick. We love you so much.