My arm has been chopped off

Before we had Eli, I had 4 months to anticipate his life and his death. I thought I was very prepared. I wondered how it would affect me emotionally. I didn't think of much else for 4 months.  I thought i might be relatively okay after he died because of my lengthy anticipation. I knew it was coming, I didn't know the exact details...but I knew. I had several people say to me: " You never know..." I understood what they meant, and they were well intentioned, but I did know. It wasn't because of his diagnosis either. I had processed that he wouldn't be coming home. I had processed that he wouldn't need a bedroom or a dresser full of clothes. I knew I would never breast feed him. Even if he did live, he would need a feeding tube. I knew he probably wouldn't be here for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I knew all of this.  But now that he doesn't have a bedroom and a dresser full of clothes, I am starting all over with my grieving.  I guess the first round was "anticipatory grief" and this is the real thing.  

And now for a gruesome, but highly appropriate metaphor about my arm getting chopped off. When your child dies it feel like your arm gets chopped off.  It is gone suddenly and unnaturally.  It isn't your favorite scarf  or you lucky penny.  It is part of your body.  A part of your body that can never be replaced.  I felt like the time prior to having Eli, I knew my arm was going to be gone.  I anticipated it and really grieved for my impending future.  I don't think most people were aware of the level of my grief prior to him dying.  It was so painful to live each day with him inside of me, knowing that he wouldn't live.  I loved him more and more as time went on and knew the separation would be brutal for my motherly heart.

But somehow when you get your arm chopped off, it feels different than the anticipation of you arm getting chopped off. You can IMAGINE how painful it will be, but you can't feel it until it happens. You might even practice doing things with one arm behind your back...just so you will be ready.
 I tried to imagine how bad it would be. I didn't do this to make myself miserable...it's just what you do when you arm is in the chopping block.

It has been much, much worse than I imagined it would be. It has been different than I thought it would be. It has been paralyzing in many ways. I thought that the holidays would be good for me. It might bring me some joy and distraction and get me through the first weeks. The funny thing it that when your arm feels like it is gushing blood, it is really hard to distract yourself. I am a big fan of of distraction. It is a highly effective parenting tool. I think it works in adults too. I have used it many times to get through something difficult. But, right now, I can't seem to be distracted. My feelings are consuming. I think as time goes on, I will have the ability to do other things.  I won't be so consumed.  But, today, I have a gaping wound that hasn't stopped bleeding, so every little thing that brushes up against it is almost more than I can take.  I feel very emotionally frail.  I feel like the tiniest little things will send me into a tailspin. I feel weak and powerless.  I feel like I want to find my arm and reattach it so these feelings can go away. But, my arm is gone...part of me is gone and I don't feel like myself.  I know that I will find my new self. I know I will have to learn to live with part of me gone.  

Here is another interesting thing about getting your arm chopped off.  Sometimes people avoid the subject of your arm being gone because they don't want to make it worse.  They are worried if they say something about my arm, I will remember it is gone.  Like, the gushing wound isn't reminder enough. So, they look the other way and pretend they don't see it. I don't know if I am the authority for all parents who have lost a child, but I can't imagine that anyone would be MORE sad if you bring up their child and your recent loss. I know I feel better when I hear his name;  Especially out of someone else's mouth. It makes me feel like they love Eli and the mother that mourns for him.

If you really did lose your arm, you wouldn't get another one.  Not in this life anyways.  It is gone for good.  At some point, I think you can look at your other limbs and be grateful for them, but right after you lose your arm, you are only focused on that loss.  It hurts so bad and you have to relearn how to live again. I feel that way with Eli.  He was one of my arms. I have other kids.  I love them, but they don't take the place of him. They never will; just as he would never take the place of one of my other kids.  I didn't realize that losing Eli would feel so much like losing a child.  I thought it would be okay because he was "just a baby" and we didn't spend a lot of time with him.  I think it will be less painful in some ways, but more painful in other ways because he was a baby. I don't think I would have considered the "loss of a baby" and the "loss of a child" synonymous before this, but I do feel like that.  If you were to look at your own kids, which one would you be okay putting in a casket. Of course, the answer is none of them.  They all fill a special place in your heart and your family and your life wouldn't be the same without them.  You can't have "another baby" to replace the one you lost. I never thought you could, but I understand that now.  A few people have asked us this question and we are not ready to answer that to ourselves or anyone else.... BUT it really is a separate and distinct thing from Eli. He can't be replaced and we would never have another baby in effort to fill that void.  Remember that you only get your arm back in the resurrection.  

Here's another counter intuitive thing I have learned during this process.  I have been approached by people that announce they are not going to cry around me. They feel the need to be stoic... I think they are trying to do it for my sake.  I actually like when people show their emotion around me. It makes me feel like this situation and his life warrants emotion.  It makes me feel like Eli mattered. It won't increase my sadness...it will make me grateful that someone else feels sorrow or pain about the fact that we are separated.  It is sad to be separated from someone you love.  It is sad when someone you love is in pain.  Its okay to cry about it.