second place
When talking about the death of my son, that’s what I talk about: him. When reading about grieving, that’s what we read about: the person we are grieving. But, we don’t talk a lot about our other kids. Not only do I experience the pain of losing my son, but I experience the pain of being a mother that can’t fix what has happened to my other kids. Especially my oldest. When Ian got hurt it was a little over a week before her 7th birthday. Emmy was the one that found Ian in the pool. Emmy had to get the phone to call 911. Emmy watched her dad give her lifeless brother CPR. Emmy got separated from her father (after watching this all unfold) to get interviewed by the police (as all accidents like this are investigated) Emmy got sent to a neighbor’s while we were at the hospital trying to help Ian fight for his life. That trauma is nothing I can take away. You know how you feel bad when your child is sick and you wish you could take away their sickness? It’s like that, but 10 fold.
Not only did she experience this horrible tragedy, but the subsequent hardships that followed. Missing holidays. Your parents forgetting about things you need because they are preoccupied. Someone missing your talent show because they already used all of their time-off while your brother was sick. Never feeling like a priority. And in reality, she wasn’t a priority most of the time. It’s hard to admit that, but when you have a medically fragile child, your other children always come second. We always made sure to do things with Emmy by herself, always worked really hard so that she felt important. But, kids aren’t dumb. They can feel that they aren’t a priority-that their needs can always be pushed to the back burner. There is nothing more that breaks my heart than this. I was aware of it, and there was nothing I could do-the reality of the situation was that Ian’s needs always did come first, he really was the priority.
She won’t admit it to me (which I understand) but I know there is a part of her that is relieved that Ian is gone. Her life was hard. She didn’t always feel loved. She had to get disappointed a lot. She was scared a lot. Now, things are less stressful. But everything still revolves around Ian in a sense. Our dispositions, priorities, and feelings have all changed because of his death. I know she loves and misses him, but honestly, her life is probably better. And nothing tells you how to navigate any of this. These are the things that impact people permanently. What can I do to keep her mentally healthy? These are the things that cause self-harm, eating disorders, depression, addiction. Is there any way to prevent it, or just navigate it when it inevitably occurs? Of course we take her to therapy, and I try my best to keep an open and honest relationship with her, but is it enough? I don’t understand how she feels, and I never will.
And, I know that John won’t remember any of this, but he witnessed the chaos of the day his brother died. Watching the EMT’s, feeling our panic. Us just putting him in his crib and him just screaming, terrified. Like I said, he’ll forget the situation, but there is still a mental impact on a baby when something like this occurs. I don’t quite understand the ramifications of trauma in babies, but I know there are some.
So, as a parent, I’m doubly heartbroken. Not only did I have to go through my son’s accident and death, but I have to know that my other children have a permanent pain that I can’t take away. I feel like I would have to be a magician of a parent to navigate the right way to handle this-to make sure my kids can cope with this in a healthy way and feel loved. And when you feel the worst in your life, you some how need to figure out how to be the best parent, because this is some leveled-up parenting right now.