The After…
I’m asked often what is it like here in the ‘after’. Well, I honestly can’t answer for everyone who is experiencing life in the ‘after’, I can only answer for myself, from my own experience.
The ‘after’ is what I refer to as the life I now journey on ‘after’ my son died. There is the ‘before-before’ as in before my son was born, before the life I would experience with him, before I would develop any memory containing him knowing he would eventually die. Then there is the ‘before’, the life I spent with my son, the memories I built with my son, the love and relationship, the bond we shared. Then the ‘moment’ of death when searing pain, darkness, shattering pieces, and the unknown occurs. And now the ‘after’. The rebuilding, the learning of this new identity, the acceptance of grief as a partner in my shadow, and adapting to being a mother without my son.
Each day is a recognition of child loss. Each day is a recognition of the sons I have remaining and the desire to wrap them up in bubble wrap and store them in an air tight padded room for safe keeping. I understand this is unfair, a completely insane notion. I know my sons have to lead their own journeys, have experiences, and take risks, as long as they are safe (and wrapped in bubble wrap?).
I understand I have to keep along this journey. The steps have not been easy. Some have felt like sinking in quicksand and the only safety rope is a hissing cobra, others like I’m walking over an icy pond in 18" porn star stilettos.
Some steps have been an amazing surprise, like meeting my husband, a light in a dark corner. Though in the process of healing, I couldn’t see my worth and pushed him away many times, not wanting to damage him with my broken parts. I’m glad he saw worth and beauty in the brokenness. I’m determined to live each day fully being true to me.
I decided to follow a career path that would keep my sons present and give the lessons raising them all have continued meaning. Having raised such a unique bunch and experiencing the loss of a son and a brother to them has provided me with a perspective I am able to share with care providers as each navigates the challenges of parenthood. The value of family togetherness as well as having a self-identity. The idea of supporting our children’s education, activities, and goals, but doing the same for our own. Not allowing our passions, our health, our personal care fall in order to care for our children because our children need role models who believe in themselves so they can believe in their children.
This is where I am, here in the ‘after’. Believing in me and knowing my son still holds a place among my shattered pieces.
