There were so many things I expected to feel and think after Trek died, and I have felt all of them and more. I have grown accustomed to the surprise stings of pain from a seemingly insignificant stimulus. But even after over 2 years of living with the grief of losing my son, I can still be surprised.
Trek 2 weeks old
Vesper is truly our Rainbow baby. Her little face lights up our days, and brings out emotions and joys that I had feared had disappeared in the ocean with Trek’s ashes. But as I was changing her diaper yesterday, admiring her soft belly and returning her beaming smile I realized that I am traumatized by Trek’s death. That there is a part of me that was seriously injured by my little boy being taken away.
I know Vesper will crawl and walk and talk, but I have yet to day dream about such things. I won’t believe them until they happen. Like a battered wife does not believe she will ever be loved again. When she turns 15 months old, I think my brain may reset a little, that yes, this baby will live, she will walk and talk and she will not also be taken from me.
Vesper 4 days old
I knew when I picked Jarrett and decided to spend my life with him that he had all that I was missing. Throughout the years, he has proven over and over again to be there in every way that I truly need and want. He amazes me on his ability to access and act in situations others would deliberate and stress over for days, months, or years. He sees things in black and white, while I see things in rainbows. When you see things in rainbows all the time-you definitely need a black and white partner.
There have been so many times that Jarrett has picked me up and carried me in our relationship. Even during and after Trek’s death we somehow were able to be there for each other even though we were each dying. There was only one day when we both needed so much and could give nothing, it was hard, but thankfully out of all the days, it was only one.
The day we brought Vesper home from the hospital was magical. To bring your love child home-the place they were made and grown out of love-is a surreal moment. The magical day you have been waiting for for 9 months. It was so peaceful, Peyton and Conner were elated, it was all I imagined.
As I was crawling into bed that night I laid Vesper on my chest. A panic set in, one I had never felt in my 9 years of being a mommy. I felt inadequate. I know this is a common feeling, but I had never felt it before. Being a mommy was all I ever dreamed of since I was a little girl. The day I had Peyton, I finally felt like I was truly myself. It was all so natural and fun and just perfect. Everything before no longer existed, just Peyton and anything I needed to do to take care of him. But here, on the start of my mothering journey with my 4th baby, I was scared. What if I did not hear her cry and wake up to nurse her? what if I rolled over on her? what if I forgot she was here, and no longer in my belly and didn’t take care of her? what if she died too like her brother?
In the lamp light of our dark room, Jarrett pushed the hair back from my face, looked into my eyes, and told me I was the best mother in the world, I would never forget about Vesper, or lack in taking care of her, that I had done this 3 times before with ease, and that he would stay up all night and watch me and her sleep. That he would wake me if I did not wake up when she wanted to nurse. That he would hold her if I was too tired.
He probably does not even remember that as a significant moment in our life. But I am crying as I write it. It was a very significant moment for me. It was a moment where I got over a little bit of the trauma from Trek’s death. It was the moment I became a mother all over again. It was the moment I was given a new baby, after one was taken from me. It was the moment that I knew I could trust Jarrett to always see the truth even when I could not. That I could trust him for all the days of our life together. The moment that I was able to see all the vibrant colors of my Rainbow baby.