Category: nathaniel

In Keeping With the Theme…..

So, last week was a bit of a rough week for us over here, BUT……..we’ve survived and are back to being our cheerful happy selves.

Thanks for sharing with me. I love it when your girlfriends will sit down and cry with you and then out of left field, you get a dear friend who gives you a bit of a kick in the pants, and it’s all good. Thank you…….seriously THANK YOU!

But, in the middle of all of this, I’ve been noticing that my house has kind of thrown up on itself.

I was NEVER a packrat – EVER! in fact, I would regularly go through my “memory chest” and re-sort and file (under G for Garbabge) things so that I only ever had a certain amount of “the most important things“.

A few years into marriage, someone who lived next door to us, had peeked in through our window (can we say creepy, sleezy, stalker?) and wanted to know if we were moving. It was far enough into our marriage that we weren’t sporting that “just got married/don’t have enough stuff/trying to fake that we really are grown ups now” look. I just really REALLY liked a clean, no extra crap look.

Only the bare essentials for me thank you….

This continued on in our married lives for years. In fact, we moved houses 9 times in 7 years, and instead of it being a problem (I mean, obviously we had problems as you can tell because what “normal” person moves 9 times in 7 years…..at least 4 of those with kids) I actually looked forward to it because it was just another opportunity to “throw more crap away“.

And then……..THEN…..then we moved to our current home. Where we apparently set down roots….or had a pile driver come out and drive some piles into our current home. We’ve been here for the past 7.5 years. Even for the first couple of years, I just threw things out. It was kind of like a revolving door policy. If something was going to come in, then something else needed to go out. I only had “so much” room and was not going to let things get cluttered.

And now here I am and my house feels CHAOTIC, and I don’t understand how we got here, where all this stuff came from and when did I change and WHY?

I’ve been getting rid of crap lately (see, my theme that I mentioned – ha ha ha ha) No, I’m serious. I’ve been throwing stuff out. If it’s not super important to me or the kids – then OUT it goes.

And, over the weekend, we got rid of a van load of junk, and I have another van load of junk to go tonight. I’m totally embarrased typing that out, because I must admit that I’m barely even started yet. Now, before you go all “crazy” and think that I’m living in the dump….remember that my normal sense of “clutter free” is probably a bit harsher than yours….remember the previous comments of my house looking like we were moving…yah – I like the minimalist look.

But, I did have WAY TOO MUCH CRAP and I’ll be throwing it out, giving it away, or selling it so that I can finally feel like I can breathe again.

I think I figured out when and why it happened.

Almost 4 years ago, we sweet little boy died before we even got a chance to hold him, and it ROCKED MY WORLD.

I’ve not been the same since.

It was hard to breathe let alone worry about my house. It was an effort to just survive and only the very most important things got any energy focused toward them…..like caring for the kids, but honestly, I don’t think I did a very good job of even that. It’s amazing to me when I see how far from “that place” that I am, but it’s sad to see how the “effect” of losing Nathaniel is still with me.

I’m stronger than I knew I was, and yet I’m also aware of a sense of frailty. I can’t “do it all“. I recognize that I tire easier. I can’t plan too many events in a row or I feel overwhelmed. I like my alone and quiet time. I’m just so different. It’s the same me but different. I sit here trying to explain in words, and I fell like I’m not doing a very good job, and really to say “it feels like a part of me died with Nathaniel” is probably the best way of explaining it. Not in a sad, depressed way, but just that a small part of me changed and will never be the same, and that happened when Nathaniel died. I still don’t think I’m explaining it well, but that’s okay.

Back to my house….I just didn’t care as much about……well….I just didn’t care about much. But the further I get away from that point in time, the more I’m aware of the healing that takes place over time. I don’t think there is anything else that can make the process go faster – just TIME!

And no – having Siah didn’t make things better. I love Josiah. I’m so thrilled that he’s a part of my life. He has his own spot in my heart and in my life. He didn’t fill the spot that was Nathaniel’s; he never could, and he was or never is supposed to.

I love the fact that Nathaniel is still having an impact on my life today. I never got to hug, and raise him, but his legacy lives on. It lives on with every “thing” that I process and learn about “living, dying, grieving and healing”

In thinking about my house and processing why I am at where I am today, and how I got here….I realize that it’s all a part of the process. I can choose to see it as such or I can be frustrated.

I choose to just walk it out. And so today, walking it out means that I am seriously decluttering.

And I’m loving it.

How about you? Are you a pack rat or do you like the minimalist look or do you have a healthy balance?

I’m Home

I Love Toronto!  It is cold, but it’s a dry cold and WAAAAAAAAAY nicer than our slop weather that we have here.

‘Siah did great during the whole week that we were gone. He is such  happy baby and such a little trouper.

Our flight there was…….eventful, and really……….. in a funny way.

I didn’t get to sleep on Saturday night (or should I say Sunday morning) until after 1:30, and I had to be up at 3:30am to make sure that I was for sure ready to leave the house baby and all by 4:30am.  Nice, eh?

I vaguely remember thinking to myself…..Hmmmm, Josiah didn’t poop today – I really hope that’s not an issue tomorrow on the flight.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

First of all, we were in a row of three seats and my friend and I were in the window seat and the middle seat…..and yes, they sat a poor lady in the aisle seat right next to us.  I felt so bad for her.  I knew I would have to get up to use the toilet and to change at least one diaper on the 4 hour non-stop flight.

I also knew that I’d have to feed him, and that he’d probably kick her (he’s really long) and that he might whine or cry at some point, and at the very least that he’d just talk…..and he “talks” really REALLY LOUD!

The airplane took off, and Josiah was nursing as we took off so that his ears would pop and because it was just time.  Just after the seatbelt sign went off, I smelt this funny (bad funny) smell, and figured that it was the baby across the aisle….there were 3 babies on this plane….but then Josiah let rip with a HUGE fart and started oozing ALL OVER THE PLACE.

He was in a disposable diaper, and I don’t use disposable diapers except for one overnight, and we had the most serious and unbelievable blowout ever in Josiah’s history.  I don’t have blowout’s with the cloth diapers, but this was an amazing blow out.

I had poop on Josiah’s clothes, and all over my lap, and all over his recieving blanket and his big cuddly fluffy blue blanket.  It was unbelievable….and I had to some how get new clothes and diapers and clean him up and myself up and needed to get out from the middle seat ….so, we did manage to get somewhat tidied, and made our wy back to our seat.  I had just got settled back in, and continued with nursing him, when……….he pooped all over again.  Fortunately, this one stayed inside the diaper like it was supposed to, but the lady in the aisle seat had just gone to sleep and I had to wake her up to crawl past her…..

By the time we made it to Toronto, all 3 of us, my friend, Josiah and I were covered in barf, and poo.

It was such an “experience!”

But, aside from the mess, Josiah was a happy baby, and our trip was great.

I’m still trying to catch up from the time difference as well as the late nights and early mornings…..so I’m tired, but it’s all good.  It’s good to be home, and back in our little (somewhat) routine and on our (so called) schedule.

I wasn’t here for the anniversary of Nathaniel’s birth/death, and we have yet to “do something” to remember him.  Maybe this coming up weekend…..I’ve not really sorted all my thoughts out about this.  I have so many different thoughts, some conflicting, on this whole thing.  Sometimes it’s just easier to not think about it……

But, I’m glad to be home….even if I did walk right back into what feels like a war zone, but that’s a story for another day.

an anniversary of sorts – guest post

today is Nathaniel’s third birthday.  Alexandra had to remind me at dinner time.  There is a lot going on: Patti is in Toronto at a conference, I am trying to run my business and take care of all the kid details at the same time…

This is exactly what I don’t want to happen, and yet I feel it is inevitable.  I had a son.  I held him.  I kissed him.  Right now as I type, I can vividly see him in the dimly lit hospital room.  I remember where I was sitting and how I held him.  I remember the feelings of confusion and not knowing what to do, and not knowing how long I should hold him, and how quickly I should let him go.  I wish I had held him longer!  What I don’t want to do is forget all this.

Now three quick years later, my 8 year old asked what we were doing for his birthday… (For the last two years, we have gotten helium balloons and written on them with permanent markers and said a few wishes and let them go.)  I want to be the father of 8… 4 living and 4 have moved on…

Life has a way of moving on and focusing on the present realities, or even on present opportunities, but makes light of past actualities.  Things have happened that have defined me, have become a part of me, have taught me all about compassion in a way I wish I were still ignorant it… but in the here and now, I (we) focus on what is in front of us, or what is currently required of us.

In the first year since Nathaniel, not a day went by that I did not think of him.  Now three years later on his birthday, I did not think of him once, until I was reminded.  I guess that is how life goes, but I don’t like it… HE IS MY SON!

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Nathaniel,

I miss you.  I see three year olds, and I know you would have been taller.  Your brothers and sisters were all big for their age.  I miss knowing who you would have become.  I miss knowing how much like your mom you were and how much like me.  In so many ways I am glad I got to hold you; to kiss you.  I’ve fought in my mind to keep you present in my mind and in my heart, but I haven’t done as well as I would have liked.

You are my son!  Nothing can take that away!  No matter how long you lived, you are my son.  No matter how well behaved, you are my son.  No matter what you attained, no matter what mistakes, no matter how hard you tried or how little, you are my son.  There is nothing that you could do to become more of a son, and there is nothing you could have done to become less of a son.  And so you get what sons (and daughters) get… my love.  My sons and daughters get all the love I have, unconditionally!  I know that you can see me from where you are and I know that you know my thoughts.

I love you.  Happy birthday.
DAD