The Saddest Person in the House

A couple weeks after Holden was born into Heaven, my seven year old came to me with a profound observation.  Her statement took my breath away and pushed my already broken heart down deeper than it had ever been before.  She looked at me with her big, brown eyes and said,"Mommy, you're the saddest person in the house."  Those words held so much power.  In those eight words, she expressed her concern, her sadness and her plea to get her old Mommy back.  How did I get to this point?  I was trying so hard to be strong in front of the kids but that's the problem; we never give them enough credit.  Children see more than we think.  Their minds are not bogged down with schedules and tasks that need to get done.  They live in the moment and, therefore, see life in real time.  They are in tune to the emotions that surround them.  They feed off the environment they are in.  With my uninhibited sadness out in the open, I saw this beautiful little version of me become more sullen and death obsessed.   It was my wake up call.  How could I grieve my son's death and still be present for my earthly trio?  Part of me just wanted to go hide and hope it was all fixed by the time I emerged.  I didn't like myself.  I was weak and useless.   On top of the physical pain I was dealing with, the emotions I felt were so overwhelmingly achy.  I was exhausted.  I relied on others immensely those first weeks and it bothered me that I was so helpless.  I hated who I was and how horrible of a mother I was being.  I was walking a thin line trying to parent my earthly trio while still parenting my angels.  It is a conflict no parent should face and yet here I was right in the middle, an emotional shell of who I once was. 
 

I took a hard look at myself to make the changes I needed to.  I had to expose my weakness and accept it.  However, I did not want to overshadow my grief.  I wanted my children to see that it is okay to be sad at times; that it is okay to cry and talk about their brothers.  I had so many people tell that I am strong which is hard to accept when you feel so weak.  I am not strong, I would say.  I am just surviving the only way I know how.  In the first weeks, it is easy to focus only on your pain but then life creeps right back in and you have no choice but to move forward.  Moving forward for us meant accepting this new life.  My children no longer have the innocence they possessed before.  They have an intimate relationship with death now and their already strong faith has blossomed.  All our lives have changed.  We have all taken turns being the saddest person in the house.  I asked Brynly if she thought I was still sad.  She told me "sometimes but not all the time."  I asked if she knew it was okay to be sad.  She said yes but she knows that her brothers will always be in her heart.   She said this with love in her eyes and a smile upon her face.  I guess out of the darkness we have discovered the true power of our love and how it possesses no boundaries.  Granted, we are not perfect and this will be a lifelong experience but I can't help but feel richer having seen what our love is capable of.  Ricky and Holden have given us that and continue to do so with every tear we shed and every kiss we send.