Dalene is growing Baker’s little brother, and by all accounts, he is as robust and active as Baker was at this point. The pain and the fear ebb and flow, and mix with the excitement that we can’t repress. I’ve started reading to this baby like I read to Baker – reading the same books, and some new ones, leaning my head on the growing bump as we go to sleep, little guy kicking away at me as I read.
It’s bittersweet, as we come up on what should be Baker’s first birthday. We have plans for Baker’s day, honoring him with both sets of his grandparents at his grave, sharing lunch, donating some books to the library, and planting some flowers. Then we’ll want to get the hell out of town – find a destination and do anything other than come back home and sit, and think, about the frosting and cake that should be wonderfully matted in Baker’s hair, and eyebrows, and crammed in the cracks in the floorboards.
Baker’s brother will have the pent up attention of his parents – enough for two children – directed at him like a firehose. Our responsibility, I think, is to give him all that love while letting him be his own person. It scares me a little bit when I think of how much we want to meet him, touch his soft skin and smell his baby smell. We had only fleeting moments with Baker, and if we are so blessed to bring this guy home, we’ll need to positively LIVE every moment with him.
No one can live for two. We can’t ask him to shoulder the weight of his brother’s life. We’ll watch him as he grows and think about Baker every minute, but we have to give him the freedom to live for one and to someday know his brother, Baker, and miss him along with us.
Our little guy
6 comments:
People have said to me my next baby will be a miracle and a special little healer. But I think all babies are miracles. And its too much responsibility on their little shoulders to heal me. I never really will heal. I just want an ordinary baby. Happy and healthy. That's all. But yes, I do have two times the love to give, probably even more.
I love hearing from the Dads. This was lovely.
I've followed Baker's story since Dalene first posted it on the loss forum at Mothering. One thing that has always stood out to me is the deep wisdom you two seem to have. It seems to me (from the brief glimpses I get)that it existed before Baker died.
I truly believe that you will be fabulous parents to Baker's little brother. The wisdom, the love, the grief ... they'll all be there.
I'm not a parent after my loss (yet) but I am parenting my 2 children born before Emma. That firehose - yup. They've been given a dousing on several occasions but somehow the sadness I feel about Emma and the joy I feel in them seem to co-exist pretty smoothly. It has just become how it is - the pattern and fabric of our life now.
Jill
That was/is my big fear with my baby after. That he will be burdened with having to 'heal' us. But lately,I have come to see him more for who he is than for who is not here. But it is a tricky business, their lives are so hopelessly intertwined....
Keeping you allin my thoughts these anniversary days and always as you and your rainbow baby continue your travels together.
xxoo
Chris,
What an honest and touching post. Baker, his brother, and any future siblings are incredibly lucky to have you and Dalene as parents.
Kim
I love reading your point of view, its so incredibly sweet. i think about you 2 all the time, and long for that to be us soon.
this baby is going to be the luckiest little boy...so much love to shower on to him.
xo
Chris, just a really lovely post. We are thinking of you, Dalene, Baker, and Baker's little brother, this week and always.
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