Since losing Jensen almost four months ago, I’ve become a completely different mother than I ever planned. One lesson I’ve learned is nothing will ever be the same. Most days it’s hard to get out of bed. The days where I do feel a little bit of strength, I push myself, only to end up back in bed, crying. Someone who has not experienced the loss of a child does not know the extent of the loss. They don’t know stress of going to the grocery store or even to the mailbox. Some days it is impossible and that’s okay.
Another lesson I learned is to have an escape plan before going anywhere. One of the hardest scenarios I’ve recently encountered was a planned trip to the market. It never crossed my mind what I would do if I were too overwhelmed with two of my biggest triggers: babies and pregnant women. Why I didn’t have an escape plan for a place I should have known was going to be full of triggers is beyond me. I instantly regretted my decision to go when I saw the pure joy in the eyes of a pregnant woman while she rubbed her belly. She was completely carefree, just as I had been only five months ago. Then there was the crowd of people gushing over a Jensen-aged baby as she smiled and reached for their hands. That’s when I spiraled out of control.
I was staring at my past and what I so very wanted to be my present. In that moment, I wanted to fall to the ground. Instead I started crying and found myself running back to the car. I couldn’t stop thinking about that carefree look in her face and how jealous I was that I couldn’t be showing Jensen off. That innocent face and demeanor had gone the second I learned my son’s heart stopped beating.
After crying in the car, alone, for a half hour, I promised I would never put myself in a situation where I felt trapped. I will always have an escape plan before going anywhere from now on. There is no way I could have planned what would trigger me beforehand. At that time, I handled the situation the only way I knew I could and that’s okay.
If I could live in a trigger-free bubble for the rest of my life, I would, but that’s impossible. I know I have to encounter those big bellies and baby feet. Just as I know I’ll never be able to have my son back in my arms. My harsh reality is something I’m fighting tooth and nail to accept and that’s okay. From life being completely different to breaking down in the middle of a market, the best lesson I’ve learned is to know it’s all completely normal to have these feelings. Unfollowing friends and skipping right past baby pictures to protect myself from a breakdown, is what I have to do to survive.
Since losing Jensen, learning and surviving this new type of life is all I can do. The loss of innocence is messy and lonesome. It’s seeing a new life and wondering if it will be lost too. Many days are filled with telling myself it’s okay to feel this way, so I don’t drive myself crazy. It’s losing your old way of life and struggling to accept this new reality. This is the life and lessons of a Still Mother.
- I am a mother, too. - May 12, 2017
- Mothering Jensen – The Mothering Project - May 8, 2017
- Dear Beautiful Mother on Your Child’s First Birthday - April 5, 2017
I’m so sorry for the loss of your little boy. My son Brantley was born April 1st, 2016. At the time I had 3 family members pregnant and a bigger group of friends who were all due within a week of me. It was so difficult to stay happy for them while trying not to breakdown. I’m so thankful one of those friends was having her rainbow daughter. She was the most incredible support for me and asked if I wanted to come see her daughter the day she had her. The day turned out to be hours of me staring into this beautiful babies face and crying over what I should have had. The support from her mom was exactly what I needed to heal. I found out just a few days after that I’m pregnant with my own rainbow and while it’s hard to be optimistic sometimes I’m so thankful for the time I do get with this son no matter how long or short it may be.
You just put all that is in my head into words. Escape plans are key and are a way of getting yourself out there. It’s strange though as some big things that should upset you often don’t but the smallest things catch my breath unexpectedly and I find if it does get me when I am out then I’m done! We lost our little girl in April also to mitochondrial disease when she was 6 and a half months. There are days that you “function” and there are nope days. Hugs xx
Oh, I’m so sorry for the loss of your little girl. I feel like I have met so many mamas that have had their angels in April; Jensen was born on April 5. I’m glad I could put those thoughts in words. I find so man women are thinking the same thing and it needs to be wrote out, if not we end up feeling crazy. It’s perfectly okay to have those nope days, but I’m thankful for the ones we can function!
I hope you’re having gentle, functional days this week.
Love,
Danielle
Danielle, so sorry to hear about the loss of your sweet Jensen. We lost our son Cameron right around the same time and it has ripped our world apart. Avoiding triggers is my new reality too. The worst ones are the ones you aren’t mentally prepared for. 2 or 3 weeks after losing our son, I walked into my living son’s soccer practice to see a mother cuddling a very new baby and immediately started crying. No one can understand how much we physically ache for our children. Sending you love.
Hi Danielle,
I went from being used to have a childless marriage, and adjusting to that by focusing on other priorities like a pet dog who brought so much love to an empty house and my career to finding I was pregnant and thinking how to juggle both worlds, to first my dog, then to losing my baby and giving up on my career as a result of my miscarriage and also coping with the loss of my father after wasting for four months in hospital. And all within a year.
No need to say I was devastated and that life looks bleak. And most of the time with or without escape plans we have to carry on with a huge hole in our heart.
Love to you.
Vincienne
Hi Vincienne,
Sorry for my late response!
I’m so sorry for your losses. That is a lot to cope with and try to keep your thoughts on track in such a short amount of time. Although I don’t know how I would handle all that, you are so strong (even when you don’t feel it). I know the huge, dark hole that’s left in my heart after Jensen’s birth (especially in times I need to escape) will forever be there from the love I have for him. We carry their love and memories with us with ever step we take.
Keep staying strong, Vincienne. I will think of you as we travel down this journey of loss together.
Love,
Danielle
Yes. This. All of it. My breakdown this week was in a restaurant while out to dinner with my husband who was trying to cheer me up a little after what had already been a hard day. Having an escape plan is the new normal.
Erin,
I’m so sorry about your breakdown in the restaurant. I know how hard it is to have a night where it’s supposed to be cheering you up and it hits. It’s our reality we need escape plans for dinners out. Thinking of you.
Hugs,
Danielle
This is so true. I feel exactly the same way after loosing my baby boy five months ago as well. It is that hardest journey I have ever encountered.
I’m so sorry for your loss and how we are on this hardest journey together. I’ll be thinking of you and your angel.
Hugs,
Danielle