*This first part might appear wonky...not sure what's going on with the formatting?*
6 months. Half a year. It’s crazy to sit here and type that Matt and I have been
without Connor for 6 months. I think we’ve handled this time in our lives about as
well as we can. That being said, there are times where I question my own grieving
process. Times where I wonder why I’m not crippled with grief to the point where
I can’t get out of bed. I remember initially after it happened wondering if I would
ever be back to being myself. I pictured myself in meetings at work or just passing
people in the hallways and wondered what future Bonnie would look like. Would
she just be going through the motions? Would she smile and greet people? Would
she joke around with others again? I certainly couldn't picture the latter two.
While I certainly have my moments of going through the motions, I have gone
back for the most part to the Bonnie I was. That of course comes with even more
questioning...how could someone who lost their child, this absolute ray of joy
and happiness in their life, just continue on? It’s something I often wondered when
we had serious issues with Connor. How could the world keep moving on when
ours seemed to be in limbo?
6 months. Half a year. It’s crazy to sit here and type that Matt and I have been
without Connor for 6 months. I think we’ve handled this time in our lives about as
well as we can. That being said, there are times where I question my own grieving
process. Times where I wonder why I’m not crippled with grief to the point where
I can’t get out of bed. I remember initially after it happened wondering if I would
ever be back to being myself. I pictured myself in meetings at work or just passing
people in the hallways and wondered what future Bonnie would look like. Would
she just be going through the motions? Would she smile and greet people? Would
she joke around with others again? I certainly couldn't picture the latter two.
While I certainly have my moments of going through the motions, I have gone
back for the most part to the Bonnie I was. That of course comes with even more
questioning...how could someone who lost their child, this absolute ray of joy
and happiness in their life, just continue on? It’s something I often wondered when
we had serious issues with Connor. How could the world keep moving on when
ours seemed to be in limbo?
As I reflect on these last 6 months, I’ve learned a few things.
*Matt is my rock. Doing this alone would be insufferable. I will forever be grateful that we were there together when he passed away. I will never forget waking up on August 28 before 6, bursting into tears, and having Matt there to hug me. We joke often that we were an old married couple before we were an old married couple. I’m thankful to have this man in my life. I am so sad that he has lost his “bro” and I know I can’t hold a candle to Connor. I am thankful that Connor had such an amazing, hands on dad.
*When a child dies, an autopsy will be required. We felt we lost all parental rights of Connor after he passed as an autopsy was required. This is a whole ‘nother post, and I won’t get too much into details, but this was very frustrating and emotionally traumatizing. Again, perhaps another post for another day.
*Funerals for kids are cheap (relatively speaking). The money makers for funeral homes are when older people pass. You basically get everything at cost and the funeral home doesn’t profit off it. This is random I know, but this is my blog and this is something that I learned.
*Matt and I are strong, in part because of Connor. He was such a tough kid and showed us to keep smiling, even when things get tough.
*We will go through things in our own time. Connor’s room remains mainly unchanged. Our laundry basket is full of his clean laundry. We will start to slowly go through medical supplies to donate. I don’t know when I’ll be ready to go through these things and I know eventually we will when we’re ready. We still have his cups with his med syringes out on the counter, as well as the formula recipe we had for him.
*Our bodies have adjusted. If Bonnie from a year ago heard me lament “I’m so tired,”she would look at me and make a sarcastic comment while rolling her eyes. She’d be thinking to herself “Please….you don’t know tired.” However, I am tired and it’s amazing how quickly my body has forgotten and adapted to this new life of no middle of the night wake ups.
The caption for this picture referenced Connor being up for the day at 2:30. Yeah, past Bonnie would want to slap me...
*We have an amazing support system. Anyone who came to the visitation, service, brought us meals, donated money, or thought of us in any way, we appreciate you so very much.
Of course, I’m sure as soon as I hit post on this, I’ll think of 8 other things I should have mentioned, but this is already longer than I thought it would be. I hope you are able to channel your inner Connor at times to laugh and smile, even when times get tough.
