Conflict and Progress

So, I almost told my Mom yesterday.  (If you're confused, read "My Story, My Son; How My Angel Earned His Wings" -----> to the right.)  It was Easter, and I practiced all the way up to my Mom's house.  What I would say, how I would help her understand.  I had it all figured out.  My brother would be upstairs playing video games, and she'd be in the kitchen, making Easter dinner.  We'd have some time alone and I could tell her all about the little light in my life I call Trevor.  I want her to love him like I do.  I want her to be able to know she has a little grandson up there with my Dad in Heaven; and that they're having the time of their (after-)lives.  I want her to know, that even though she had a stillborn daughter before even I was born, that she's not alone.

I got there, and chaos it was.  My mom's upstairs, yelling down, asking my brother what the hell he did with all her laundry.  Bro's in the living room, running back and forth with the dog like a crazy person.  My uncle is there, making some food in the kitchen, singing a tune.  It just didn't seem like a good time.  So I think, I'll tell my Mom and brother when we're visiting my Dad's grave.  We go to my Grandma's house, and on the way back, stop at the cemetery.  We were planting flowers, but the wind chill is like negative 40,000 degrees for some reason, and we're all too busy swearing at how cold it is, and trying to dig up dirt to plant tulips, that it's just not do-able (welcome to my family, by the way).  I never ended up telling Grandma about my little Angel.  There just wasn't a good time.  But I realized later, there never really is a "good time" to have a conversation like that.  I was thinking of writing her a letter about it, and just giving it to her and not being there when she reads it.  I know that's the chicken way of doing it; but I've been keeping it from her from so long I almost don't know if I want to tell her.  I remember reading on a blog (don't remember where), how sad this mother felt because her mother, Angel's grandmother, was also grieving for her child's loss.  I don't want my mother to even know I'm suffering like that.  I don't want her to see the pain in my eyes; and she will.  I know what it's like to see your child in pain, and not be able to help them.  I don't want her to have to grieve another person, her grandson; her only grandchild so far.  I  AM SO TIRED OF LYING!  I AM TIRED OF HIDING MY SON FROM THE WORLD!  But then again, if I tell my family, I have to go through it all over again.  For the third time.  I am making progress, and I feel like I'll end up taking a step back.  I am so conflicted.

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On a sort of brighter note, I have made more progress.  Just a little thing, but I feel great about it.  My friend (who has two children) and I were in the drugstore on Saturday, and she was trying to get some last-minute things for her kids for Easter.  She looked at me, and knew I was upset because I have no little boy to buy an Easter present for.  She said something that changed my views completely.  She said, "You know, you do have a son.  He might not be here, but you do have him.  If you want to get him something for Easter, you should get him something for Easter."  So I did.  He would be four-and-almost-a-half right now.  I was thinking, he's a little old for stuffed bunnies, but I think these are cute.  I said, "A four-year-old boy would think this was stupid."  She said, "Not a sweet one."  Trevor would certainly be a "sweet one"!  So I got a baby blue stuffed bunny with a plastic container full of jelly beans, that says "Happy Easter".  

I wrote the date and occasion (in case some day it's not obvious what holiday the bunny was for, lol) on the back of the tag.  From now on, I am going to get Trev something for holidays.  I DO HAVE A SON.  I AM A MOTHER.  We just have a different kind of mother-son relationship than others.