This April, my first born son would have been celebrating his fifth birthday.
He would have, except that he died, when he was five days old.
Five years is a milestone.
A milestone for a little boy,
A milestone for a mother,
A milestone in grief.
Five years, all the books state, is when most parents, who have lost a child feel wholly normal again.
It’s when they are able to let things go, live and let live and all that junk.
I’ve yet to meet a textbook griever.
I am certainly not one.
Almost five years in, I have days, months of absolute clarity, of happiness and joy, when my son, William is just a whisper in my thoughts and then I have days when he is all I can think about.
The pain has faded, the gaping wound that was once open and raw is now mostly healed but if it is knocked, will bleed easily still.
This is the life of a mother who has lost and I accept it.
I don’t think I will ever be fully healed.
I am not text book because, in other’s eyes I have taken way too long to find peace.
I am not text book because I grieve William when I grieve Ivy’s illness, I grieve differently because I had babies almost too soon after his death.
Everything is intertwined.
The whole NICU experience, the difficulties, the depression and absolute hopelessness I feel when Ivy is acutely unwell and I can do nothing to help her.
Everything is weighted on his death.
Last September we went away. It was the worst ‘holiday’ I have ever had.
I brought Ivy into the hospital the day after our return with pleural effusions and raging pneumonia.
After everything had settled and Ivy was stabilised I lamented that I would never ever go away from our hospital or our paediatrician again.
I cried into the night that my life had become a series of terrible events and to go anywhere, do anything was to tempt fate.
Yeah, it was a pretty horrible time.
Here’s the thing;
In April my son should be turning five. He’s not here. He’s gone but I want to celebrate him.
I want to sit on a beach at dawn and think about him.
I want to do it with my family.
So, I’m going to.
Today I made a decision to embark on another holiday.
Five days, four nights on an island.
There is no hospital and I am not even sure if there is phone coverage.
It’s booked.
William’s birthday falls just after Ivy’s scheduled** IVIG day and I am going to risk it
because five years is a big deal.
** As long as we get a continuation of treatment.
Also blogging at Three Ring Circus