KindredElephants

I write for healing after losing my soulmate, my Grandmother, Mary Johanna Lambert, and My Son, Jarrit Dewayne Green, Jr. - both who left me July 26, 2013 and took my heart with them.

[kindredelephants]

When New Year’s Eve Brings Pain Without Hope

It's still hard. Every day, but especially holidays. This is my third New Year's Eve since Gramma and Jarrit, Jr. passed and my life crumbled beneath my feet. I have the most amazing 9 month old rainbow baby. Professional opportunities are opening up. On a daily basis, I am generally better. But as I leave 2015, I feel no relief.I leave 2015 felt kicked by life and chased by death. I leave 2015 with the least trust or hope in God or my future. I love my son dearly, but life did not suddenly become wonderful when he arrived. Johannes does not hide that Gramma and Jarrit, Jr. are missing. Johannes doesn't take away the fact that my Juice boy (one of my Three Mutskateers) died tragically three weeks ago. Johannes doesn't fix decades of hurt from my relationship with my mother or my sorrow that her health is dramatically declining. His beautiful self does not negate that she may very likely not see New Year's Eve 2016 - and that I will have lost both people who raised me within three years at only 33 years old. He doesn't even make his father want to be a better man for me, him, or himself - indeed, he has transitioned to a meaner and more distant person since Johannes' arrival. Tonight is hard. It is leaving yet another year behind without my Jarrit, Jr. and Gramma and now Juice . . . and it is not welcoming a new year expected to be free of tragedy. My vent because I have to get it out of me without feeling he guilt of dragging someone else down.

[kindredelephants]

I'm Still Jealous

I have the most amazing rainbow baby on the planet. My Johannes is everything any parent would ever want…and more. But, I’m still envious of women who live in the bliss of pregnancy. The joy and innocence of expecting a baby. I’ll never have that. And it hurts.

[kindredelephants]

There Is Room for It All

Johannes has my heart. Each day, I look at him and just smile because he is the definition of love and perfection. Interestingly, his arrival has indeed assisted my healing in grief. But not because he's taken away my grief for Jarrit, Jr. or Gramma. I still think of them all day, every day. I constantly miss them and imagine what it would be like to have them here with US. I cry again quite often (postpartum hormones surely having some effect). I even requested my mother to not be titled "Gramma" because a knife dug into my heart each time she would write or say it. "Gramma" is for Gramma. She's irreplaceable. Her name is an honor for her. Keeping it her name is an ongoing honor for her. If she were still with us, she would be Gramma to Johannes, too. Fortunately, my mother agreed to be "Memaw" without contest. Grief indeed had no gone anywhere. Instead, Johannes' arrival has taught me that there is room for it all. My heart can feel the abundance of joy and love with his life as well as the abundance of sadness and love with their deaths. For some reason, it makes life more bearable. I am able to ride the waives of extreme joy to the waives of deep grief with skill and and foresight. And, without guilt or allowing one to impact how I feel about the other. They are like those old school wind-up dancing figurines shown in the Pinocchio Disney cartoon or in the Disneyland "It's a Small World" ride. One dancer being joy from Johannes and the other dancer being the grief of losing Jarrit Jr and Gramma. They're all part of the same mechanical machine and on the same platform, but moving around differently and independently. They can't get away from each other and sometimes they briefly touch and interact. Neither drags the other down or replaces the other. But both together make it all more beautiful. There is room for it all.

[kindredelephants]

Rainbow Baby

Each cry is a blessed sound. I'm utterly exhausted now into week 3 of this little guy's new life. My sleepy perfection has turned into a feeding energizer bunny. Some moments I lead toward frustration for longing of a peaceful, full night of sleep but then I remember, I'd have given my life itself to have Jarrit, Jr. keep me up at night. And, then I look at Johannes and know these moments are fleeting and I must be mindful and absorb all of it that I can now before I can't. There are the blessings of true perspective of appreciation that result from losing a prior baby. Then, there are the difficult moments. The moments where I feel guilty because even with this bundle of blessing, I miss Jarrit, Jr. And when I miss Jarrit, Jr., I feel guilty for not being fully happy with Johannes. There are the moments that I look at my beautiful son and his pictures and see what he would look like if he were dead. I still don't take his life for granted and watch for his breathing incessantly. There is undoubtedly a level of fear living under my skin and separating me from fully breathing in his living instead of guarding against his death. The storm still treads along even despite the rainbow coming out.

[kindredelephants]

The World Has Shifted Colors..Again.

After a tough labor and delivery, my rainbow baby, Johannes Jackson Green, is here. He's alive. He's utter perfection. I am beyond exhausted but can't get to sleep because I can't take my eyes off him. As the sun raises out my hospital window, I notice the colors of the world and the sunrise have changed. They are deeper. More vibrant. Everything in life has meaning - both again and for the first time. The last time the earth shifted like this was the day Jarrit, Jr. and Gramma died. But, what's crazy is that while many surely think now that I have my Johannes, the pain of losing Jarrit, Jr. will subside. Interestingly, not at all. I bawled upon delivering Johannes. In that moment, I felt Jarrit, Jr.'s absence just as much, if not forcefully more, than Johannes' arrival. The onslaught of love that immediately accompanied grief of Jarrit, Jr. was not as immediate with Johannes. I had to slowly come to realize Johannes he's real and here to stay. The fear of something being wrong had to wear off. But each moment, I am so much more and more and more in love with this little boy - but no more and no less than Jarrit, Jr. If anything, he has taught me even more about love and even more about my love for Gramma and Jarrit, Jr. When she said "Love you more" all the time, she meant it. Not for lack of my love, but because there can't possibly be a greater love. He has validated my love for Jarrit, Jr. It hasn't just been some obsession or void for me the past almost 2 years. It was genuine love and the fact that I love these two boys so equally astonishes me. My grief and joy are coinciding. The love centers and overpowers all. The world has so many colors in my life now from it all that it's more and more beautiful by the moment. Life FEELS worth living and thriving. I don't suddenly feel life again...I feel it for the first time in my entire life.

[kindredelephants]

Birth and Death

As my due date approaches in 3 days, it continues to be utterly eerie how similar death and birth are. I wait each day wondering if today is the day this little boy arrives just as I waited each day wondering if each day was the day Gramma would die. Time ceases to be linear and has no relevance. Knowledge and medicine have no true insight. There are days where you just know it's going to happen but then the signs of occurrence taper off and the universe says, "Nope, not yet." It's also intriguing how my own physical disabilities make me wonder if this is how Gramma felt. I've had prodromal labor now for three days. Steady, persistent contractions. I am exhausted and the "fun" part hasn't even yet started. This morning, I felt as though my entire body was hit by a train after running a triathlon. As I tried to move around and up out of bed, all I could think of is whether this is how Gramma felt as her last days approached. I couldn't get myself up without excruciating pain. Not from contractions directly, but from the days of changing life being expressed through my body. I wonder if Gramma similarly felt as if life exited her bones and crumbling pain replaced it. She wasn't able to get out of bed alone anymore. Sitting up was a mission. Rolling her over was really a 3 person job even with her tiny frame. Lying hours on one's side causes leg and hip pain. Going to the bathroom was an event. All while her brain wondered, is today the day? Sometimes, despite the horror, I feel honored that God took both Jarrit, Jr. and Gramma from me on the same day. Sometimes through that experience and death and birth being so interlinked in my world, it helps me understand and accept that death and birth are the only two things we're guaranteed in life. They are intrinsically linked. And just so happens through my hopeful rainbow baby, this continued similarity and interconnectivity continues to expose itself. I find some peace in the gap in the circle of life being so closed in my world.

[kindredelephants]

Unexpected...Always Unexpected

The thing about grief is that you don't get to choose when or how you feel it. You can fight it. You can accept it. You can work with it. You can do everything that is considered healthy "resolution" of grief. But at the end of the day, it controls when it gets its attention. One would think the closer I get to Johannes' birth, the more safe I would feel. The happier I might be that the chances of him coming safely continue to increase. But, it's not like that. Not only do I still know that my body is not safe and ANYTHING can still go wrong, but the closer I feel that I may actually get here safely, the more my grief for Jarrit, Jr. pops up. The more I feel an uncontrollable need to make sure no one thinks Jarrit, Jr. is replaceable. The more I feel the subconscious need to remind myself that Jarrit, Jr. needs his attention...too...still. One week from my due date, I've been triggered and drug down more than I have in a while. I desperately miss Gramma. I need her. I want her. I'm flashing back to my horrible hospital experience with Jarrit, Jr. and feeling all over again what it felt like to walk out of the hospital's'a front door, watching happy new parents pack into their vehicles, with no baby in my womb or arms. There is absolutely no feeling in the world comparable to that heartbreak and misery. I'm trying to be positive and optimistic and focus on the joy that I hope will reintroduce itself into my life any day now. If anything should be able to remind me what an unheavy. Unlimited happiness feels like, it should be Johannes. But, reality is that grief controls when it takes over. All I can do is continue training for its unpredictable waives.

[kindredelephants]

Nightmare

I had a dream 2 nights ago where Johannes was born dead due to a brain issue. First dream I've had like that with him. I'm just over 38 weeks with him now. While I was okay with him taking his sweet time to come, this dream has put me in straight "Come now!" mode so I can get him out of my body before something goes wrong. I thought I had learned to trust my body & trust God this time but something as simple as this dream has increased the anxiety all over. But, I continue to work on his nursery and act like every thing will be okay...bc what else can I do.

[kindredelephants]

I'll Never Forget You

A very good friend today mentioned that as soon as I held Johannes and heard him cry, that everything will fall into place. Unfortunately, I know that's not always the case for bereaved mothers. I pray every day that I will be able to be filled with unbridled joy once I have Johannes in my arms and not have the experience overcasted by ongoing grief of Gramma and Jarrit, Jr. not being there with us. At the same time however, I fight to make sure that no one incorrectly believes that Johannes will make everything okay. I feel guilty at even the idea that perhaps I will feel okay and that somehow he will make Jarrit, Jr's life and loss less or Gramma's absence in my life suddenly okay. Do I want to feel better? Absolutely. Am I coming closer to accepting not only their deaths, but the life I was left with? Absolutely. But, I have also accepted that there will forever two deep voids in my life. I have never before felt guilty about the idea of "moving on" until recently when Johannes' arrival gets closer and closer. But, then, I look at Jarrit, Jr's picture and the pang of sorrow arises without any intention. When I realize Gramma's not here, it's the same. So while I feel guilty about feeling "okay" sometimes, I know I won't forget them... nor should I. I feel as though I must nurture my relationship with Jarrit, Jr. through this arrival of Johannes just like any mother of more than one must do. I talk to his picture and let him know that "I'll never forget you." That he's irreplacable. That my love for Johannes will never replace the love I have for him. I don't feel the same burden with Gramma because I know she would and does understand. But, as any mom, I feel the need to assure Jarrit, Jr. of the same even though I don't actually know if he can hear me or feel it. Likewise, I want them to be very much a part of the experience. I intend on having them with me in spirit and actually intend on bringing my hospital bag their pictures. It might seem crazy to some, but forgetting them is impossible. So, in the best way that I am able, I'm bringing them with me. When the labor pain reaches its climax, I'll be able to look over at them for spiritual strength. I've survived these past 19 months. I survived labor and loss before. I've survived through loving them and knowing they're only gone in physicality and not in spirit. So, they'll remind me to stay strong and that I can survive bringing Johannes into the world. They are still my family, even if I can't see or hear them with my earthly senses.

[kindredelephants]

You Can Still Lose Him

I am now 36 weeks pregnant. The normal stress of “How the hell am I going to take care of this little human?” is exacerbated by the every day fear of “Will today will be the day I lose him?” This fear has lessened in intensity each week of viability and health, but it is not gone. Every time I think about opening packages or get too excited, my mind automatically takes me to, “You can still lose him.” I fear that this fear won’t subside even after he’s born. I fear the pain of child loss is forever too pungent to not forever feel it and fear it.

[kindredelephants]

Once you have lost someone who owned your heart, every joyous occasion is also one filled with a deep, painful void. Eventually, you master experiencing joy and heartbreak simultaneously, but it doesn't mean your soul ever truly mends.

LeRyan Lambert

[kindredelephants]

Cries of Joy & Pain (Imagined)

The closer I get to meeting Johannes, the more I notice I cry daily - both from imagined joy and heartbreak. Every day I get closer, I can imagine holding Johannes in my arms. Smelling him. Hearing him. Feeling him. Feeding him. Staring at him. Feeling his skin on my lips as I kiss his cheeks. Just thinking of this nearing possibility makes me deeply joyous in my soul to the point that I cry as if I know exactly how it's going to feel already. On the other side of this however is an unintentional deapth of pain that draws out just as powerful of emotions. Every time I dream of having Johannes, I feel the pain of never getting these experiences with Jarrit, Jr. And, also, the realization that none of the above is guaranteed even with Johannes swarms my soul. I am 34 weeks now and know all too well still that I am never guaranteed to see him alive either. I may never get to hear his coo or cry or watch him breath. Any day, God can decide that he wants Johannes back just like he did Jarrit, Jr. Despite all of the medical care, my carefulness, my concern, my prayers, my everything - I may still lose him. Without even a second passing, I deeply cry - every day - at this possibilit. I grieve for Jarrit, Jr. and I grieve the imagined death of Johannes as if it is just as real as me typing this post right now. I don't think I would have experience either profound emotion - neither the anticipated, extreme joy nor the heartwrenching pain from fear if I had not lost Jarrit, Jr. This is I suppose part of the life of a bereaved mother pregnant after loss. With the innocense of life and death stripped from me, it is all so raw and real and possible.

[kindredelephants]

Missing Them Less

I just had a bit of an epiphany. I just looked at a hilarious picture of my Gramma and smiled, with ears rolling down my face. Then I realized, I am missng her - as well as Jarrit, Jr. - less. The sadness, withdrawal, terror,and emptiness that filled the void that their death opened in my life is beginning to fill with love, memories, and new realizations. I think of them just as much every single day as I did a year and a half ago. But, longing for their own physical form has subdued.

I suppose in some ways, life has continued on and a new normal without their physical, daily presence has started to develop. However, I do not believe this is why I’m missing them less. Instead, I believe I’m missing them less because I’m starting to truly realize they are still with me in a myriad of ways. They will always be in my heart. They are forever a part of who I am. They live in the hearts of others. I will make sure they continue to live in the next generation. They live in the various memories and even sometimes tangible items. They and I live together - maybe not physically any more, but undeniably spiritually. And one day again, the boundaries between human form and spiritual form will not separate us.

I write this even while acknowledging that I feel their spiritual presence in my physical world less and less. Gramma comes to me in dreams much less often. My physical and tangible longing for Jarrit, Jr. to be in my arms has lessoned. Alternative signs of their presence are reducing in frequency. But I know, they have not abandoned me. Gramma loved me too much to ever do so and I have no doubt that she is with Jarrit, Jr. I think perhaps they simply understood before I did that I did not need them the same way anymore. That I can love, feel, and connect with them without the physical evidences of their presence.

I still wish that I could touch them, hear them, hold them, and so on. But, I don’t need these things the same way as I once did to acknowledge and feel their presence.

[kindredelephants]

Baby Kicks

Johannes hasn't been a huge kicker and I started feeling him pretty relatively late. He still doesn't kick all day and if I went by the 10 kicks every 2 hour standard, I'd be at the doctor's office every day worried. I have found it interesting though that I get NO joy from his kicks...or even hearing his heartbeat weekly when my nurse comes. Don't get me wrong, I very much get momentary relief and start anticipating them. I just don't get happy or joyful. I just get assurance that he's not dead, for the time being. It's odd to me because Jarrit, Jr. didn't die in utero. He was perfectly fine; my body just kicked him out. So I have no personal experience with the moment the doctor tells families, "I'm sorry. There's no heartbeat." Nevertheless, I know too many women now who have and I do know the pain that results. I know the feeling of my body being the danger zone. I almost wish I never felt his kicks. Like this morning, I have yet to feel him kicking yet although he usually is having a mini-party when I wake up. I didn't feel him much last night either. It puts me in a quandary. Should I be the obsessed bereaved mother a rush to the doctor's office or should I just trust that he's fine since he doesn't kick regularly any way? It'd be easier if I just never felt his kicks and never had to feel any differences or wonder about any risks.

[kindredelephants]

To Open, Not to Open

I received my car seat and stroller set yesterday that my mother bought for Baby Johannes. At first, I was excited to hear the UPS man approach the driveway and then Jarrit got the huge box from him and excitedly carried it in. It is the first big and necessary baby item we've gotten for Johannes - or at all since Jarrit, Jr. left before we purchased any baby items. I was excited to take it out of the box and start playing with it to figure it all out. Imagining what it would be like to have my son in it. I finished what I was doing at that time and then went into the room where the box stayed. I opened the first large box which contained two smaller, large boxes within. Right as I was about to pull them out to open them as well, something screamed inside of me: "DON'T OPEN IT! You may have to return in!" I haven't looked at the box again. So quickly, excitement turned back into fear and self-protective mode. It's as if just when you're about to feel like a normal expecting mom, you remember that you're not guaranteed that your baby is going to live. It's not just an abstract feeling. It's tangible, known, and understood. It's REAL for those of us who know how losing a baby feels especially when beyond the "safe zone". On the other hand, I've started feeling guilty for not opening it as if it represents a lack of trust in God. Yet, one thing I learned in 2013 was that God doesn't protect you from heartbreak, He just helps you survive it. While most items can be opened after He arrives safely, this isn't one of those items. Since, of course, you have to have the car seat to leave the hospital with the baby. So, I just don't know when I'll open it. But, not today.

[kindredelephants]

Birth After Loss

I am 31 weeks pregnant with my hopeful rainbow baby. I have been so overwhelmed with the fear that I would lose him too that I hadn't even really considered or thought about the actual birth. Birth and my body have been the enemy. My body and birth killed Jarrit, Jr. Until a good friend of mine asked me a couple weeks ago who would drive me to the hospital if I go into birth and his father isn't present, did I even start considering that I do have to give birth and I should start preparing for that. My last progesterone shot is about a month away and his arrival is pretty much fair game after that. So, I started researching birthing options to prepare myself for what eventually now has to happen. Upon the recommendation of the hospice bereavement coordinator where I attend meditation groups to still cope with Jarrit, Jr.'s and Gramma's deaths, she recommended that I look into what is referred to as the Bradley Method of Natural Birthing. Once I started focusing on the actual birth more as the fear of preterm birth has slowly diminished upon Johannes' increasing viability, I started realizing how much fear I hold deep down of the birth experience again. (We decided to name this new baby Johannes Jackson Green. My grandmother's middle and go-by name was Johanna and Jarrit's deceased mother's married name was Jackson. We learned afterward that both names are forms of the name John which means gift from God/God is gracious. I believe there is no coincidence in this.) I was treated horribly when I lost Jarrit, Jr. from the time I arrived until the moment I left. My hospital experience was a secondary trauma to losing Baby Jarrit. I knew I would never go to that hospital again and that I have excellent care this time, but have still feared that another birth would trigger emotions and feelings with which I had not yet coped. The idea that birth could be a healing process, a pleasurable experience, or one that could be spiritual never entered by brain. I just knew that I could not ever fully trust doctors again and knew that I wanted to be more knowledgable and in control this time. I fear my unlimited deference to my medical providers last time contributed to their indifference toward even trying to save Jarrit, Jr. I have now read Natural Childbirth the Bradley Way and Mindful Birthing and I am convinced that a natural birth is the way to go. I'm feeling more confident in my ability to trust my body to do the right thing (THIS IS A HUGE STATEMENT AFTER JARRIT, JR. WHO MADE ME QUESTION MY BODY AND HAS HAD ME LIVE IN FEAR FOR THE PAST 8 MONTHS THAT MY BODY WOULD KILL ANOTHER BABY OF MINE.) I am feeling more informed and more in control. I am optimistic that not only can I deal with birth again and not trigger my grief and PTSD, but perhaps it will be the most healing experience I could have hoped for. It's odd that it never occurred to me that childbirth may be the way to go after a loss. It's trusting God and myself more than doctors. It's recognizing the limitations of medical knowledge about both birth and life. It's confronting fear and trauma instead of medicating away from it. It's spiritual. I completely believe in the importance of hospice and allowing others to die naturally and peacefully without unnecessary medical intervention. I've specifically rejected any medications that would hinder my emotional reaction to July 26, 2013 since I knew I would have to deal with them sooner or later and couldn't drug my way out of the grief process. I lost trust in physicians after Jarrit, Jr.'s birth experience. I've found great faith and spirituality since their deaths and through treatment after their deaths. So this, just makes sense. Now, it's a matter of getting my doctors and hospital to understand and agree to the plan. I have loved them so far so I hope that they are natural birth friendly. I unfortunately can't afford a doula or midwife this late in the preparation stage, but I'm preparing friends and family to step in to advocate for me if I become unable to do so for myself. Jarrit is learning his role as the father in this process. So, while late in the game, we are increasing confidence in Johannes' safe and peaceful arrival. We shall see how this goes at the end of the day, but I feel that this is what is meant to be. This is the next step in overcoming my birthing fears and triggers. It is the next step to attaching to Johannes better and hopefully avoiding post-partem depression. It's a way to find positivity in an experience that caused me the worst possible emotional pain. Perhaps this is my journey back to finding what joy means. Perhaps the things about life and spirituality were not only a way of healing the past, but a way of enjoying the future more than I ever would have if it were not for the past trauma. Maybe that is one of Gramma and Baby J's gifts to me.

[kindredelephants]

After the loss of a baby, pregnancy is not joyful. It is the hallway of hell that you must venture through to hopefully find a piece of heaven.

LeRyan Paige Lambert