Blog #27: Paperwork

02 Dec

There can be such irony in life sometimes. I am taking Benjamin to the doctor for his three year old check-up today, and I am also bringing the most depressing paperwork I can think of. We have some paperwork our physician needs to complete related to Alex. Our insurance company needs an official physician statement because Alex died at such a young age.

My heart is heavy with this task. It’s one of those things that I know I need to do, yet it’s indescribably hard for me to think about compiling all the paperwork they want and need to process our claim. They want the death certificate, physician statement, guardian statement, obituary. Good grief, do they want audio from his memorial service too? I know it’s just a formality, but shouldn’t it be easier to process this type of claim?

The irony comes in because I am lamenting how quickly Benjamin is growing up. With the arrival of his third birthday, Benjamin has given up using a nuk at bedtime. Watching him go to bed, not sucking on his nuk suddenly makes him look 15 in my eyes. I mentally fast forward a few years and soon he’ll be off to school, driving, and off to college. Where did these last three years go? I remember him being a baby, I remember him not walking yet, and now all of a sudden he seems so mature.

The contrast is that we don’t get to celebrate anymore birthdays for Alex. He is always two months old in my mind. Always a baby. Always snuggly and cuddly, loving to sleep and nurse. Not walking, not talking, certainly not bound for school. As a parent, how do you handle the mix of emotion this presents?

You have your first child growing so fast, literally right before your eyes, you want time to slow down or stand still to truly celebrate this perfect age he’s at right now. Then you have your second child, now gone. Permanently a baby, never destined to have a first birthday, or any of the other milestones you got to celebrate with his brother.

It hurts all over again and I don’t know why. The sudden realization that Benjamin will always have celebrations his brother won’t. It hurts. Not having cried for what seems like months, it’s so weird to have my eyes fill with tears at a pace that seems won’t stop. I was not expecting this. Not today. Not at all.

How do you celebrate the life still on earth, without dwelling on the life that’s now gone? I’m open to suggestions.


Posted by on December 2, 2011 in Uncategorized


2 responses to “Blog #27: Paperwork

  1. marilynne johnson

    December 3, 2011 at 10:14 am

    My dear daughter sorry you have to feel the pain again but …when you are at least not expecting the pain it just happens you start to cry out of no where….the Lord does not want us to suffer …so as we go on with our living it will subside ……not that you will ever forget the loving moments you had with your loved one or ones….for now its okay to cry your eyes out you need to do that…God Bless Mom

  2. Melanie

    December 12, 2011 at 4:32 pm

    My sister and her family have a birthday party for her son that passed away (at 20 weeks gestation) every year. They have an all out celebration that he is a part of their lives and will be in the life to come. Your time to raise your baby is not lost…just put on hold for a while.




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