A child's grief

Since Aaron and I have never had to deal with this kind of tragedy in our lives the grieving process is completely new to us. It has done really weird things to us that we never expected. We would have thought that one who was grieving would be extremely sad and possibly depressed. That might cause us to feel like staying in bed all day or just not motivated to do things. Gratefully I haven't had the desire to stay in bed all day and I don't think that Aaron has either. It does help to have two children who need us and require for us to be up and functioning.


The thing that has really caught me of guard about grief is the way that it has totally destroyed my mind. I'm not sure it is something that I can explain well enough for anyone who hasn't gone through it to truly understand it. There is a blanket of fog over my brain like I have never experienced before. Most women have experienced the pregnancy or "mom" fog that comes with having kids - you just can't remember things or feel very "spacey". The fog Aaron and I have now is 10 times as bad. I know there is something in there that I am suppose to be thinking, but for the life of me I can't find it. I have always been a math person - call me a dork, but I love figuring out problems. I made a large batch of hot chocolate the other day and was dividing it up so the kids could take it to their teachers. I needed more hot chocolate and wanted to make sure that one more batch would be enough. I sat in the kitchen completely perplexed and for the life of me could not figure out mathematically if the batch would divide into what I needed. What is that????


Things at the office that I would normally handle with no problems, like the need for flood insurance make me freeze because I don't know where to start. I sit there completely overwhelmed by this simple task. I wanted to cook roast the other night and was at the grocery store. I was able to buy the roast, but couldn't come up with anything else that I needed. By the grace of Heaven I had the other ingredients at home, but hadn't even thought of anything else to go with the dish like rolls or a salad so we just ate roast. Actually I discovered some rolls in the freezer from when my mother-in-law was here so we did have rolls too, but not because I planned for them.

This post doesn't sound like it has anything to do with the title "A child's grief". We as adults are able to sit and analyze the way we are feeling. I know my brain is in a complete nonfunctional fog. My poor children though don't have the ability to figure out why they feel different. Nathan has always been my sensitive boy. He has always reacted to my emotions. Since Hailey passed away we have been struggling with some serious attitude and emotional issues. There were so many changes that happened in such a short time - grandparents in town and in charge, then a new baby at home, then no more baby, and a mom and dad who are sad and crying. I can't imagine how that has turned Lexy and Nathan's world upside down. Aaron and I have struggled with how to handle these melt downs that Nathan has been having. He almost throws a tantrum like a 2 year old. Do we give time-out? Do we sit and cuddle? We met with a counselor last week and she suggested that if he is doing something that under "normal" circumstances would have resulted in a time-out, then we should continue to give the time-out and follow it up with extra hugs and reassurance and maybe even some discussion about Hailey.


I have still been struggling with how Nathan reacts to things. He just falls apart and starts screaming and crying about things that seem so silly. It must have been my own brain fog that kept me wondering why he was reacting this way -- duh! Thankfully I had a moment the other day where my fog temporarily cleared and I began to understand his grief. The kitchen counters were a mess - Christmas cards, my purse, the car keys, my phone, baskets, kids cups and a glass of water. I don't remember what I was doing, but I knocked over the glass of water which drenched everything in it's path. Normally this would have been inconvenient, but at that moment my first reaction was to completely fall apart and sit on the floor and cry. I held it together, but as I glanced over at my sweet boy, who was at that moment sitting in time-out for hitting, I understood. Things are just the same for him as they are for me. He is overwhelmed by things that normally are no big deal. He just doesn't have the ability to analyze his feelings or express them in any other way. I am so grateful for this insight I was given. I feel I can be a little more patient with him because he lost his baby too and he is just as sad as I am. And on top of the fog that has covered his brain the poor child only has the ability to comprehend all this on like an eighth of the ability that I do. How hard this must be for him. How confused he must be.


We still have a lot to learn and a lot more grief to pass through before this fog begins to clear. I hope that everyone can be patient with us as we try to be patient with ourselves and each other. I would like to think that with each new day the grief, the fog, the confusion will lessen and it will over time, but at this point each new day can still bring new emotions, new forms of grief, and I think that if we just focus on the day we are in we will have the strength to make it through. Today I feel strong so far. I was able to get out of bed with only a few small tears. So I will make it through today and tomorrow I will deal with tomorrow.