Triggers and other goofy lingo

"Triggers"... A word that is now part of my daily vocabulary.  On bereaved parent circles, "trigger warning"  typically means a "rainbow baby" is mentioned.  A rainbow baby is the child you have after a loss.  Congrats-you have now learned your first 2 words of the bereaved parent lingo.

Triggers suck.  They can take a perfectly calm day and throw you into the deepest sorrow. It can be anything- a pregnancy announcement, a piece of junk mail from a formula company, or your child's name being called out in a grocery store. I have walked into many without warning that have left me searching for some privacy to break down.

One hit me so hard and felt so cruel that I actually crawled into bed and came out 2 days later over the holidays.  Those damn holidays...

The problem lies in expectations.  Although it is impossible for someone who has not lived this hell to guess what I need, I continuously expect others to do the"right" thing.  I expected my son to be acknowledged with 1st Christmas ornaments or momentoes. I expected news of new babies to not be announced in my own home at Christmas (yep, I hosted. Stupid. Lesson learned). I expected to be treated gently.  I even handmade ornaments and momentoes for everyone to remember my son.  Evidently what I forget to do was place a billboard in my front yard stating my expectations. 

There is nothing more infuriating than to feel like you are comforting everyone around you while also being the only one keeping your child's memory alive. 

With all of that being said, now imagine how it felt to have a friend from over 20 years ago send you a beautiful gift.  The picture is the only one we have of CJ's hands.  The funeral director took it after he dressed him.  I sent the file to a dear old friend knowing he would treat it with discretion and compassion to edit it for me.  His face was purposely removed (we want to remember that sweet little face the way it looked in the delivery room).  I was expecting an emailed photo back, and instead we received this beautiful poster.  We keep it in the familyroom. Every time I look at it I smile.  His sweet little fingers... But even more the act of love for Jay to put his time and talent into such a beautiful gift. Having a young son himself, I know this must have been a difficult project for him. Through these holidays, I thought about that gift often.  I vow to never foget how being on the receiving end of such thoughtfulness made me feel. 

Even through those crappy triggers, hope snuck through.  I am learning to let go of expectations, hold on to the moments of love shared with us, and hopefully learn to say what I need.  There's that damn hope word again!  I may be an emotionally explosive work in progress, but I will keep trying. I will #doitforcj !