I have concluded that for me, there are two parts to Lydie's death.
There's the grief. You all know about the grief. I expect to carry the grief with me for the rest of my life just as I'll carry the love I have for my daughter.
But there's also the uncertainty. And this feels different from the grief. I don't expect to carry the uncertainty forever. Justin and I had all these plans for a family and until November, it seemed they were being realized: a couple kids, close in age. It seemed like we were going to have it all: good jobs, a house in the suburbs with a fenced in backyard, a crazy dog, an obnoxious cat (the cat was Justin's college roommate, I'm not a fan), a son and a daughter.
And now, the uncertainty.
Part of me wonders if I'll always want to have one more child to fill the hole in our family. If I'll always struggle with the incomplete family. When, in reality, I know that no matter how many children we have in the future, we'll
always have that hole. Our family will always be incomplete. We'll always be missing one.
But I also know I never wanted Ben to be an only child. Only living child that is. I always wanted at least two kids. Living kids that is.
And hence, the uncertainty.
I wonder if five years down the line when I'm still grieving my daughter but the question "will we be able to have more (living, breathing) children?" has been answered, I might feel different. I might feel more at peace with the direction my life has taken.
When I was pregnant with Lydie, about to have my boy and my girl, I thought we'd be done. I don't enjoy being pregnant. I want to have a guest room. I want to be able to pay for my kids' college and provide them with stable lives. I thought man-to-man defense was probably the safest and I didn't especially want to have a middle child (as I have some severe middle-childhood-syndrome).
And then our daughter died.
And I decided pretty quickly that we couldn't be done. This couldn't be the end of our story.
And soon I started thinking about having more children. Yes, plural.
This is the conversation that took place in our home:
"I want to tell you something, but I don't want to freak you out." - Heather
"Okay..." - Justin
"Lydie's death makes me want more kids. Like not just one more. Like two more." - Heather
"I want to tell you something, but I don't want to freak you out.... that doesn't freak me out." - Justin
It seems totally fucked up. Instead of being done having kids like I thought I'd be at this point, my daughter is dead and ideally, I'd like to have two more. But Lydie's death put things into perspective for me. All those reasons I thought we'd be done... who cares? Who cares about a guest room?
Lydie's death made me want more of the love.
But who knows? Our family is living deep in grief and uncertainty. We don't know if we'll be able to have one more living child, much less two. And when my mind gets ahead of me, which it often does, I remind myself that there's no sense in making plans, since our plans clearly didn't work out. I need to continue to take it one day at a time.
But I really hate the uncertainty.