Little Brother is 19 months old as of last Monday! I. Can’t. Even. Honestly, I started freaking out about this ( huge) milestone January 1st. As a result I am pretty sure I gave myself 7 migraines in 5 weeks. I know that the chance of me losing another child is slim, but God has not promised me that I won’t lose Little Brother or any other future children. People do lose more than one child. That is a pain I can’t even imagine. Losing a child is such an unique pain that there isn’t even a word to describe a parent who has lost a child. People will tell me that they can’t imagine going through what I have been through, and they are correct – they can’t. Nor would I want them to. Luke and I were watching a show where a bereaved father told somebody, “I hope you have kids one day and then you lose them so you know how I feel.” I looked at Luke and said, “Somebody who hasn’t lost a child wrote that line.” Because this isn’t something I would wish on my worst enemy.
I also know that if Little Brother would to die it might not be at 19 months old. He could die at any age. Life becomes more uncertain and scary after child loss. Before Phoenix passed I was so sure of what the future held. I had it mapped out in my head. Now – I feel like I am free falling and trying to grasp at anything to keep steady.
Whenever Little Brother has a hard day (like yesterday) I feel more guilty about being frustrated. My thoughts run everywhere from ‘well today could be his last day’ to ‘I should be thankful I have a living child.’ I guess I know a lot of these things are overreactions and grief talking. Well, my mind knows and I just wish it would tell my heart. Then maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t almost break me when I have to hand a screaming Little Brother off to Luke as he is walking into the house from work and just leave the house for a few minutes.
Today, at my church’s play group we made Valentines. And, by making Valentines I mean Little Brother tried to eat the glue and scatter the paper hearts. In this little chaos that he created he managed to glue 2 of his fingers together. Which of his 2 fingers you may ask? Well his middle and pointer finger of course – the same 2 that Phoenix still had fused. I somehow managed not to lose it in there. I think if I started to cry I wouldn’t of been able to stop and I would of been one big weepy mess.
So yeah, Little Brother is the same age Phoenix was when she passed. In a few days he will be my oldest living child. How crazed is that?