Posts
Brave. Verb or adjective, I can be brave, or I can brave something. I never considered myself brave. I remember being dropped off at the local mall as a tween and being too shy to ask a stranger for the time, while at the same time fearing that I'd be late meeting whichever parent was supposed to pick me up. My mother would often tell me to "be bold" and just do whatever. More than 20 years later, I realize that she was bold herself, at times, but overall I don't think I'd describe her as brave.
I know I was brave the day my daughter died and for at least 15 months afterward. There was so much to do to get through each day that it required what I considered a more or less obvious act of bravery. I'm not sure though, whether I'd consider myself brave overall. Sometimes, isn't it just easier to sit back and not be brave, in any situation? Like anything else, being strong, being assertive, being brave all become tiring eventually.
I find myself in a position requiring bravery. I promised over a year ago to tell my daughter's story in a situation that might help others. At the time, I was reliving her death in my head every day, multiple times a day, and couldn't imagine not ever doing that. But now, I've managed to turn it off, to not think about it either on accident or wilfully every single day. I've managed somewhat to separate memories of her life from the memories of her death. And I fear that having to talk about it will take me back. A friend of mine told me that telling the story of her trauma was cathartic. She had to do that within a year of the experience. By the time I tell my story, at least 21 months will have passed and I'll be approaching the 2-year anniversary of her death.
Honestly, just writing this and imagining having to tell the story make me anxious, nauseous, and upset. I wish I'd never agreed to do it. It's been so long now, I don't know that catharsis in that context is what I need.
I often remind myself, when facing something difficult, that this is not the hardest thing I've ever had to do nor is it the worst day of my life. In comparison to the day I lost my child, almost nothing can ever compare. I also realize that I am brave every night, when I go to bed knowing that I'll once again wake up and realize she's gone. I am brave every morning when I get out of bed anyway and live my life. I am brave now for (as a follower commented) risking my heart in having another child.
So I can do this, I can be brave for her one more time, and tell her story, answer questions, risk feeling it all again in front of people who may or may not care. Brave. I am brave, I will brave this.
Wow. Yes you certainly are brave to consider doing this. I don't have that sort of courage at this point. I'll continue to hide out on my blog instead! It is very generous-spirited of you to take that risk for the good of other people who will be listening, who might be helped. I hope it brings you some sort of peace as well.
ReplyDeleteYour post is making me think about my own bravery / lack of at the moment. I feel like I have run out of courage, that this last year has recquired more courage from me than I have had to give, and stocks are diminished to the point of 'run out'. Today I am thinking of my current pregnancy as my badge of courage. No matter how this pregnancy ends, it took courage to start it. I've read of subsequent pregnancies after experiencing hyperemesis gravidarum as being deserving of a 'Purple Heart of Motherhood' (Purple Heart is not a concept that means much in Australia, maybe our equivalent would be the Victorian Cross). So maybe I should try to give myself my own motherhood version of a Victorian Cross for my courage in pregnancy.
Sophia, your comment about being brave enough to risk my heart to have another baby keeps echoing in my mind lately. I feel a lot less brave these days. I seem to worry more about my daughter and overthinking everything about her and the baby. Experience has taught me this is probably temporary though. I haven't seen the therapist in a while either, so I probably need to go do that.
ReplyDeleteYou certainly are brave, for the same thing, and there really should be a motherhood medal. First for being willing to risk it at all, and second for risking it again after such loss.
Hi Ladies, I wanted to share with you that I am pregnangt too and the child will be born less than a year after Lennon's accident. I actually haven't mentioned it on my blog yet, because the reactions I received to the news so far, was of relieve. Even though people know fully well that no child could ever replace Lennon, they do comment along the lines that this will ease my pain. But it wont. It breaks my heart that he wont be here for his sibling. Deep down I know that it will be good to have another baby and that I will love it just the same. But like you I have had moments were I just thougt of myself as insane. Having had children has made our hearts so vulnerable, and the fear I sometimes feel for Bessie and in future likely also for the new child is in some way paralysing. But then I suppose don't we all know that even though our childrens' life had to end so tragically, we also wouldn't want to miss a second of that precious time together?
ReplyDeleteI agree with you that reliving the seconds, hours and days surrounding the event is so traumatising. But when putting into words remember, that the fear of the fear itself is one of the worst kind. And even though sometimes it is best and easiest for us to avoid situations that hurt and remind us, sometimes we realise that they aren't as bad when we are actually doing them. It almost makes me smile to read what I just wrote this, as it is "easy" to advise, but I am actually avoiding so many things mayself :)
Nadja, congratulations! Honestly, I don't know how you and Sophia do it. I'm having a tough time with this pregnancy. Not physically, fortunately, but emotionally. With my firstborn, I took pictures every 4 weeks and created a scrapbook. With the second, I bought one of those pregnancy journals and wrote in it, and also took some pictures. This time, I'm just sort of counting the days. I'm looking forward to meeting Baby, but I just keep thinking I'd much rather do this if my oldest could be here to meet him too.
ReplyDeleteIt's definately not as exciting as the previous two pregnancies. But we just have to trust that we will love this child, even if we find it hard to "enjoy" the pregnancy. I think we are smart enough to understand that a new baby will never replace the children we lost, yet we should hope that another baby will add some new spirit and love into our broken hearts. You know sometimes I am actually not sure whether I will survive this tragedy of losing Lennon, and in order to keep going I can only ever take one day at a time. So it's impossible to look forward to the birth in any way - as it's too far in the future - but I to tell this baby inside me that it's welcome whenever I can.
ReplyDelete