“What are you looking forward to this weekend?”
This was the question my principal asked at our team meeting on Thursday, and I was excited to answer. This weekend was the Angel Walk, a memorial event put on by a local child loss organization that has been immeasurably supportive to our family. When I took this new job, I wondered how it would feel to introduce Reed to new people, so I was happy to have an opportunity to share this example of how we incorporate him into our family.
Plus, I was really looking forward to it. It makes my heart so full to gather with other loss families and celebrate our children, rather than mourn them. Last year, walking around the lake on a beautiful fall morning with people who love him, and seeing his name proudly displayed was incredibly powerful. I couldn’t wait.
As always, though, life had other plans. This pregnancy has slowly been becoming complicated. Friday morning, after a long week of lab tests, daily doctor visits, and way too many high blood pressure readings, my doctor asked me to go to the hospital for 48 hours of continuous monitoring. Of course I didn’t hesitate, but my heart was heavy when I realized it meant I’d have to miss the walk.
The Mom Guilt began creeping in right away. I knew this was the right thing to do, but it felt akin to choosing one child over the other. Briefly, a different future flashed through my imagination, one where we had two boys at home. I thought about having to decide between whose basketball game or school play to attend, and imagined one of those little boys feeling less important than the other. I thought about trying to explain that choice to a little boy who doesn’t understand, and my heart broke. I feared this was the beginning in the inevitable fading of Reed into the background. One son here, getting all the attention, and the other one always coming second.
Of course, it’s clear that Mommy and Brother’s health comes first. I didn’t hesitate to make the choice, and I still carried guilt for having to make it. As a parent, even when the choice is clear, it still hurts to choose one child over another. And though navigating this balance of being what each of your children needs is something all parents do, the flash of guilt that comes through when you can’t show up in the way you want for your kids is very, very real.
Fortunately, it is not only up to only one parent, nor even one family, to raise a child. One of the most remarkable things we have seen since Reed’s birth is just how expansive our family network is. Though I am still sad that it wasn’t me who got to release Reed’s balloon at the Angel Walk and celebrate his life in the warm fall air, there were plenty of people there for him. He was not alone. He was not forgotten. His father read his name, along with Jasper’s, as swallows danced around the blue balloons in the sky. Friends and family were there as well, some of whom never even got to meet him in person but love him all the same. It didn’t erase my guilt, but it eased it and reassured me that, even when I can’t be there for one of my sons, someone else will be.
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