Thoughts On A Life Upended

She should be here.
She
Should
Be
Here
Sheshouldbehere
SHE SHOULD BE HERE.

I found myself crying on and off this afternoon. Some of the tears were happy tears, love for my 3-week-old son who was cradled in my arms. But most of the tears were tears of grief for Sara, and a little bit of despair over the knowledge that Sara and this new little being will never meet. Sara should be here. I still feel her absence so sharply. The arrival of Theodore has stirred up my grief in a way I haven’t felt in awhile – while I expected this, it’s still a bit overwhelming at times. I’ve had very well-meaning folks try to suggest that I’m not alone because she’s still with me, and that Sara knows all about Theodore and is watching down on us… but Sara’s NOT here living with me and I don’t personally find those sort of ideas comforting or helpful.

Sara should be Theodore’s mom, but the line for the 2nd parent was left blank on his birth certificate. Sara wasn’t here to choose the sperm donor, and she wasn’t here to decide which IVF clinic to go with, or to hold my hand for the various procedures. Sara had been dead for over a year and a half when the embryo that would become Theodore was created. Sara and I never even talked about trying for another child after George – we didn’t get the chance due to her illness. Sara should be Theodore’s mom, but no matter how hard I wish she were, she’s just not. It’s all just so incredibly unfair. Theodore will know her as his older brother’s mom, but not as his own…. and I really hate that.

The act of parenting a living child, doing something that Sara and I had put so much energy into making happen, but having to do it without her – my heart is breaking all over again in a new way. I stare into my son’s eyes and I can see the scenes that should be playing out in front of me: Sara and I commiserating about the challenges of caring for a newborn while also constantly pointing out all the cute things our little potato does, Sara excitedly decorating the nursery, Sara keeping a very tidy list in her bullet journal of people we need to send thank you cards to (and ensuring we got them out timely), Sara loving this little boy with every ounce of her being and excitedly stepping into a role (parent of a living child) that she had dreamed for so, so long.

I just don’t know what else to say except that every fiber of my being is screaming out loud that SHE SHOULD BE HERE. It’s an echo I hear every time I look at (or think about) my son. It hurts so much, feeling this gaping hole in my heart. It’s almost as if Theodore’s arrival reopened some emotional wounds that had started to close & scar over. It’s going to take time and work to tend to them. George should be here too and I very much grieve him and have lots of feelings around wanting to make sure he’s recognized as part of the family, but his absence feel different to me (which in of itself makes me feel a little guilty and feels a little weird).

I love Theodore, my second born son, more than I really know how to express – but he is not a magic cure to heal me or make my grief disappear (nor was he expected to be). I can – and really must – hold joy and love and excitement for him at the same time that I continue to hold and tend to my grief for George and Sara. Some days like today the grief pulls a little stronger, and other days will feel lighter. I hope that, if anything, I can model for Theodore what it looks like to hold space for complicated feelings and that it’s okay to not be okay sometimes.

Here’s hoping tomorrow feels a little lighter…