Monday, May 6, 2019

Growing a boy: I'm not celebrating

I am not celebrating! I have given myself permission.

After all the definition of celebrating is "acknowledging a significant or happy day or event with a social gathering or enjoyable activity."

But do all "significant" days really need to be remembered, celebrated?

No, they do not.

I am coming to terms with this.

Over the last two years with Oliver, we have had many significant events and happy moments (and a few not so happy moments). Many of these significant days, happy days even, are joined with hard moments, tough decisions and feelings of loss.

Initial, I wanted to celebrate ALL of them...the day he was transferred to Seattle Children's, his surgery day, the first day I kissed him, the first day I held him, the day his breathing tube was removed, the first holiday we were all together, his transfer day (back to Tacoma), and his homecoming day (just to name a few).  The last two April's I have remembered and recounted every detail from my initial hospitalization to everything listed above to his "fight" today. I realized that I don't need to hold on to these things, these "icky" emotions of these milestones.

I need to take the reminders off my calendar. I need to let go and be present with him and our family. For me, it is unhealthy to dwell on the hardships of his birth and months thereafter. Dwelling on these hardships did not promote healing but rather the opposite. It became my focus, shifting my mood to sadness and anxiety. It closed my eyes to the glories right in front of me (and what glories they are!).

I am not saying that it is wrong to remember...that is why I have about 3-4 Shutterfly books outlining the entire story of our boy. Isn't that enough? The timeline is outlined in such detail. Almost every day of the first two months of his life are recorded. Pictures of his first year of life are thoughtfully arranged. Because of this, my mind no longer needs to dwell on these things. I do not need to keep this information in the forefront of my mind any more (because it is already recorded!).

"Why" is the question that kept popping up in my mind...why did I feel the need to keep these moments, these milestones so close to my heart? Then I realized, putting the puzzle pieces together of my own life. When I was an infant, I had a few surgeries too: one for my back to remove some type of abnormal growth and another which enabled me to see. That is all I know. I don't know many of the details of the things that happened to my body. The technology was different when I was born too.  With many family moves, I am sure these records were lost along the way. I have lingering questions about the surgeries I had as a child. In some ways I think I have been overcompensating for the lack of knowledge of my past by trying to capture every fact, every moment and every "level"of our sweet son. Will he care about these details? I have no idea. That shouldn't be the point. As his mom, I have tried (too hard) to remember these details for him...this is a burden that I shouldn't carry anymore. The documentation is there. I have stacks of his medical records. I have a box full of important artifacts, all labeled in case he is curious and the ample supply of digital scrapbooks.

And that. is. that.

I am releasing myself from the drive to remember, this desire to want to celebrate. Instead, I CHOOSE to live NOW...to see him as he is and not how he was (despite his on going therapy). His birth should not define me or him.

It has taken two years to come to this point. It has taken many conversations, some counseling sessions, blogging and even "celebrations" to come to terms with this. It feels good. As a family, we have decided to have "family day" around the day of his surgery -- not to celebrate his surgery but to celebrate the fact that we are a family of five. We are healthy and we are together (and that is enough!).

Grief, loss and tragedy are "funny" things...no one can tell you, really, how to handle them (even if you ask, everyone has an opinion). The best thing to do is to allow yourself to go through the process, seek help, talk about it and trust your instinct on what feels right to "celebrate" and what does not. It is okay to give yourself permission not to talk about it too (not in a "I don't want to deal with it" way but rather in a "I have moved on and don't need to keep bringing it up" way). So....I **think** this concludes my blog series "Growing a boy." That is not to say, I won't every talk about this super-huge and traumatic life event again, but it is to say that I am moving on. I am healing. I have discovered new things about myself through this process. I have learned new things about God. I have learned new things about how to better serve my community because of this experience. I have a deeper understanding and sensitivity with others who have also dealt (or are dealing) with challenging events with children or family members. For all of these reasons, I am grateful for this experience. Our sweet son has allowed me to learn so much about myself and those around me and now....and now I move forward.

Thank you all for your love and support during this long, hard two year (and ongoing) adventure of parenting a preemie baby (who is now a VERY active and fierce toddler). Thank you for listening, for your words of encouragement and your practical support. Praise be to God for all He has done in our midst. A chapter closed...finally. Looking forward to the many more to come.

Maranatha. 

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