Tuesday, January 19, 2010


I'm not sure what to feel right now. The funeral home finally called to tell us that Aiden's ashes are ready. We are thinking that we will pick them up tomorrow and take some of them to a beach that is very important to us. I had to call my boss to ask if I could miss a stupid meeting. I can't imagine it would be a problem but I still expect people to tell me no.

I'm confused, I guess. I thought getting that call would bring everything back but I just feel normal right now. There is a perpetual mid level of sadness in everything I do now, but the intense grief, and the incredible rage, seem to come in waves. That bothers me; I don't know what to expect or when it will happen and I feel like I should either be a sobbing mess all the time, or fine. I guess I expected things to be in order and have a definite beginning and end.

That is something that has been shocking in this whole experience, the disorder. A pregnancy is supposed to end in the first few weeks, or near 40, not right in the middle. When did my son's life begin and end? Was he gone when his heart stopped? Or was it when he left my body? Or maybe now, when his body is really gone? Babies are not supposed to be born after they have died; there is no order here, no beginnings and endings, just more or less pain and an echoing emptiness where there should have been light and laughter.

I think this is another part of grief that I hadn't expected, this confusion of being something other than what I expected. I have to learn how to define myself all over again as a bereaved parent, instead of just a parent. I have no idea how to do this.

Someone at glow in the woods mentioned that she had become less patient and understanding with her living child. I have too. I don't understand this. The one thing that terrifies me is that something will take my daughter from me too. So why am I not clinging to her and playing ponies for 3 hours straight? Why do I have to grit my teeth very hard to handle her tantrums without hurting her? It's like there is no room for her in my grieving for Aiden. I hate this, but I don't know how to change it.


  1. the grief coming in waves... if you had the whole of the enormity of the grief hitting you all.the.time, you would never be able to cope. your brain is protecting you, letting you process it bit by bit.

    i find it hard to accept, too.

    i'm so sorry you're finding it hard to deal with your daughter. it must be really hard. but please don't punish yourself for this. she doesn't understand, she's too young to realise what you are going through. it must be insanely difficult to deal with a 3 year old with any semblance of normality while going through this.

    take care x

  2. I suppose that's true - if I had to deal with this all at once I probably would swim out to sea. I abhor suicide - I always thought that it is the most selfish thing anyone can do. I walked in on my mom after she OD'd on meds when I was 10 (she lived) and always thought that I could never do something like that to the people who care about me. I still feel that way but I have to say, this is the closest I have ever come. Some days I just don't want to cope. I just keep thinking, I know this will get easier with time.

  3. i'm so sorry things are so bad. that must have been so horrendous, walking in on your mum when she'd OD'd. I can't imagine.

    please keep posting, especially when you feel that bad. the thoughts only get worse if you don't let them out. if you share them with someone, they will lesson with time (not immediately. if only they did...)

  4. Jen, I found your blog from Glow in the Woods. I'm so sorry for the loss of your sweet son. I could have written this post in the weeks after losing my daughter. I have a three year old son and my parenting of him has definitely been affected by losing my daughter. I also struggled with a feeling that I didn't have the energy to both grieve her and care for him and that he was losing out at times, and his crying would alternately enrage me or break my heart and get me crying along with him. I'm now six months out and some of these feelings have leveled out quite a bit. Anyway, know that you are not alone in any of the emotions you express here. I'll be here, reading along, and please feel free to stop by my blog or email me if you want to talk.