This is March, after all, and even though the olive branch has been extended, I feel it’s perhaps more important than ever to discuss Jackson, my feelings about him, about losing him, about how he has effected me and how I see his baby sister in him. So you’ll need to bear with me. This month is as much his as anything else, as far as I see it.
I read a post on Loralee’s blog yesterday about how she feels changed after losing her son. It struck a chord with me, because I feel the same. But in a slightly different way. I know I’ve been changed since losing Jackson. And I’m sure it wasn’t just him (though he’s the largest part of it); the infertility and the miscarriage have also contributed. I’m not the same person I was before this all “went down”. Kile isn’t the same. We aren’t the same family together that we were, either.
For the most part, I think those changes have been for the better. Perhaps it’s finding the silver lining in the cloud of gray? Seriously though, I am glad for some of these changes, if not for the method of attaining them. Of course, I would rather have kept Jackson with me, would have spared my family the heartache of years of infertility and loss. But since we did have to go through all that, it’s rather nice that we ended up where we are because of it, no?
The biggest change is perspective. My perspective on things has changed. I’m much more able to realize when something is worthy of my worrying than before. I’m not as likely to worry about silly things that don’t really matter. Which doesn’t mean that I don’t worry about them. But it’s much easier now to take a step back and go, “Woah, wait a minute. What’s the big deal here?” And nine times out of ten, that strategy works. As long as I’m able to step back for a moment and find my perspective, things that would have driven me nuts before don’t have the same power. (Of course, I don’t think this applies to pregnancy hormones and nesting instincts as those are neurotic tendances that will transcend even the most calmest of perspectives.)
I feel older. I feel like I’ve “been through it”. I feel like I’m a more patient mother now. I don’t sweat the small stuff with Liam that I would have with Harry (had he done half the stuff Liam does, which he didn’t). I find the joy in the small moments so much more now than I did before. Getting up in the night to comfort a scared or sick baby is almost a JOY (says the woman who’s child pretty much sleeps through the night every night). The times I’ve gotten up with him, gone into his room and rocked him in the moonlight are treasured memories. I would know, each time, how lucky I was to have that baby to rock back and forth in my arms.
I don’t want to make this sound like I never get frustrated with my children. Of course I do! They’re children, after all, and I’m fairly certain their primary goal in life at the moment is to frustrate their parents. But I think I deal with it better than I used to. (Ask me again when they’re teenagers.) There is a lot more patience there. A lot more perspective.
And yes, there is a lot more sensitivity there, a lot more sadness in certain circumstances and more being emotional. I don’t think those are necessarily bad things, though. See, there’s that silver lining again!
P.S. Thanks for all your response on my last post about birth control. Definitely go vote on my choices if you haven’t already! I certainly wasn’t expecting to hear so many cries of “Vasectomy!”. For the record, it’s an option that isn’t off the books. In fact, if you ask Kile he’s likely to say I should get the tubal and then he’ll get a vasectomy later on. The reason I didn’t list it in my choices is because the two main choices are going to be easy to achieve (particularly the tubal, as I will already be there on the table, all cut open and stuff). You know, fyi. Go vote!
