Sorting Through My Emotions

Emotions can be confusing. My husband says it's impossible to feel both sad and happy at the same moment. I beg to differ. In 23 days, we will celebrate the day our son would have turned 3. As in the past, we will spend this day celebrating his life, honoring his memory, thanking God for the time we got to spend with him, and looking forward to our permanent reunion. I'm not sure how I will feel on his actual birthday -- I think sometimes I do better on special days because I am able to brace myself for the emotional affront. All I know is that right now it is hard for me to think about it. I want to do something nice, because he is a part of our family, and I want our other children to know how grateful we are for their older brother. We want him to be a part of their lives, even if he isn't here with us now.

I've identified my main coping mechanism: I think of Riley as a missionary in the spirit world. That way I can almost think that our family has always been this way. Perhaps it's not the best way to deal with things, but it's how I am able to function, and how I can be a better mother to the children who depend on me right now. So the hardest times for me are when I have to acknowledge that he really was here, and that I once had many hopes and expectations for his life on earth. Things like birthdays force me to think about all of that and it can prove very emotionally taxing for me.

As if that weren't enough to send me on an emotional roller coaster, in 29 days, we will welcome our second daughter into the world (one of the perks of a planned c-section is being able to plan for things like that). Bringing another child into our family has been a very emotional, faith-trying experience for us. As with my last pregnancy, I feel guilty that the feelings of joy over our new child are accompanied by the pain and sorrow of missing our son. My excitement and anticipation about meeting my new little girl are accompanied by fear and dread concerning her safety. Many of these feelings have not been as sharp as they were last time, because I have been busy being a full-time mother. But when I lay awake at night or catch a quiet moment to think about things, all these emotions start flooding my body. I feel like I subconsciously tune out all these feelings as a type of self-preservation, but I'm going to have to face them sooner or later. I'm afraid it won't hit me until I'm in the hospital, holding my baby, and it will all just come crashing down on my head. I really am excited to meet my baby girl, but I'm also so, so scared.

I know things would be hard regardless of when the baby was born, but it makes it even harder that her birthday will be within a week of Riley's. It's just so hard to celebrate when you are grieving. Like Jeffrey's birthday being only two days before Riley's angelversary. It all makes for an even more drastic ride along the spectrum of emotions. Perhaps I am able to feel opposing emotions simultaneously because I must. I will grieve because I am separated from my son, but I will rejoice because our eternal family will be growing.