I’ve written about this feeling before, when I first starting thinking about Peanut, and then again when I became pregnant with her. It’s one of the things we don’t often discuss when we think about having children subsequent to loss. Because when you have children spanning both sides of the mortality divide, you find yourself also divided, and it can be hard. Who do I prioritize? Where do my feelings lie?
Related: Letters to Adrian: Fri, Oct 19, 2018, 1:08 PM
Related: Miranda’s Blog: The Fork in the Road
Peanut is my everything—snuggly days and slobbery kisses, and I treasure every last moment of them. And then there is Adrian—he made me a parent. He built this major part of my identity. And having both of them means I will always be divided now.
I have two children: one living, and one living in an urn. And it’s hard. It’s a hard way to parent. And I’m still doing it.
I still have moments, though. Moments where I wonder if I am enough for her. Will she understand when she’s older? Will she understand what it means to have a deceased brother?
Will she ever resent him?
Will she ever resent me?
I have these moments sometimes with my living child. Moments where I wonder if I am enough for her, trying so hard and simultaneously dying inside.