3 1/2 Months & Grief

Someone asked me how old G was and I said quickly, "Three and a half months." It hit me. He's the exact age J was. However, circumstances were very different.

Since then, I keep having moments where I'm holding G and begin to cry. He's so innocent. He's so defenseless. He's so fragile. He knows me.

J was the same. Except, he didn't know me. He was innocent, defenseless, fragile, and given to strangers (aka us). My mind quickly remembers another time when I rocked him to sleep for the first time in a heartbreaking condition. My heart has been breaking all over again in a deeper way.

I thought I understood it when we were blessed with him. But I feel like now I realize WHY he was so chaotic in the beginning. G knows nothing but us. He recognizes us and we are his world. G calms almost the minute he hears my voice. J was the same. He knew her. She was his world. He calmed when he heard her. Without warning, he was traumatized, ripped away from her, surrounded by strangers, and then placed into another stranger's home. Where is she? Where is her voice? This took months for him to learn that we were trustworthy and could calm him. Understandably so, right? Why would I expect anything else?

J was "so young", I thought. "Attachment" doesn't start until three to six months, I thought. I was so wrong. I guess that's why I'm grieving in a new way. I realize that I failed to acknowledge his attachment to her and questioned why he was colicky. With the experience of G, I get it now on a new level.

So, tonight as J was falling asleep I told him I loved him. He replied, "I love you too, mama." It sunk in deep. He accepts me as his mama even though he had a true attachment to her, and what an honor it has been to be on this journey with him.