They say your family is as old as your oldest child.
I guess it means the influences that your oldest has on your youngest - the things they’re exposed to, the shows they watch, the stories they like to tell. The youngest keeps up because the oldest has paved the way.
Is it the same when your baby has died?
“It’s that boy mom thing.”
“Yes, that’s exactly what it is!”
“I don’t know, my other boys aren’t like that.”
“You know what it is? It’s the first-born son thing!”
“EXACTLY.”
They’re all chiming in, but I’m not. Because the truth is that while my second son appears to be my only son, he isn’t. He’s my third child. My youngest boy. My only boy. And my second-born son.
Birth order used to fascinate me until our kids held multiple birth orders at the same time.
Do birth order studies still apply when your oldest baby has died?
“So you have 3 kids?” she asked as she brushed and sectioned my wet hair, preparing to cut.
“Yep, 3!” I smiled and nodded along with her. I didn’t feel like getting into it in public right then and at the same time it didn’t hurt like it used to.
But it did feel like I was lying.
Like I was telling someone about someone else’s life.
Like I was telling someone the sanitized version of my own life.
For a moment I looked in the mirror and watched myself tell a story I both wish was true and not true at the same exact time.
I’m having a harder time again accepting that this is my life and his story. When you’ve gone through things you didn’t expect, is it always this hard to embrace your life? Or is it like this because my baby died?
The alarm goes off again and I remember, “He’s still not here.”
The lunch I ordered for delivery is late and making me irrationally angry and I think, “It’s still not here! He’s still not here.”
I lay my head down on the pillow and I don’t want to close my eyes yet because tomorrow will come and tomorrow will be another day - another year - that he’s still not here.
Groundhog Day meets 50 First Dates meets Reality.
I know this feeling. I know it’s because my baby died.
When I turned 7 I got a big bike for my birthday. I remember it well - and not just because I’ve seen the pictures. I remember it being in our living room, fresh white tires ready to go down the big hill, and I remember exactly how the seat felt when I sat on it the first time. How tall it was off the ground.
I remember the blue keds I always wore and my friends in my 1st grade class. I remember playing freeze tag in the field by the track and swinging with my friends on the swings during recess. I remember reading books and I remember playing in the backyard with my cousins. I remember so much about being 7. And now, more than 7 years have come and gone since I held my forever 7-hour old baby boy. I know exactly what he’d be like today and nothing at all what he’d be like today… if he hadn’t died.
Do you have other kids? She’s our youngest.
You have 3 kids? One is 5, one is 4, one is 1
How many kids do you have? 4.
So you have 3 kids? Yes.
So you have 2 girls and a boy? (Smile & nod)
How many kids do you have? We actually have 4, but…
They say time is a thief. They say you have your hands full. They say don’t blink because it goes by too fast. Is it the same when your baby has died?
Nothing like coming back from months away from this space with a small dose of heavy, right?!
The truth is, I’ve been writing words — thousands of words — but not for me. Well, not in the way you think, I guess.
And I’ve been reading words — thousands of words — and it’s been restful.
I think I’m settling more and more into the fact that this (writing) is always and forever a part of me. This love for all of it, for the craft and the execution and the editing and the sharing and the forever growing in it all, but mostly for the way it feels when it flows out of me, even when it’s not for me or not about things I care about. It’s part of who I am. It’s a gift from Jacob. He rebirthed writing, the joy of writing, the need of writing, inside of my heart.
May I be brave with it.
Love You!
Love you friend! Thanks for sharing your heart ❤️