The beginning. (part 1)

Liam was a half year old, still sleeping like a newborn. I was suffering from (partially undiagnosed) postpartum depression, possibly PTSD, and we, as a family, still felt the harsh impact of losing our first two sons. It does not make my response right, but for me, it had to be done. This is part 1 (of many), the original blog post that Jeff wrote. Beautiful.

September 24th 2008

"I can't shake the feeling that a part of me lies in the heavens. Not one small part, but two large parts.

I have a beautiful partner.
I have a beautiful son.
I have a beautiful 'step'-daughter.

Yet, I still wake from time to time, tears swelling inside. I can't show them outside, for too many people need me to be strong. Instead I cover the emotions I feel.

I try to go along as if everything is relatively okay from day to day, but still it is not. The doubt I have about myself creeps in more and more.

I can see their faces in Liam's eyes. I think he can see their faces as well. Sometimes, when all is dark, and I hold my son, he laughs and his eyes shift from north to south and east to west. I dream that his brothers are watching over him, but alas, I do not know for sure.

I still have nightmares about Julian continuing to fight long after we pulled the life support, holding him, watching his brother Tristian still strapped in his little cocoon of wires and tubes. Did we make the right decision. In the end, yeah we did.

To see Julian breathe his last gasp of air, to look at his brother, and know that his odds were low as well. It's a feeling a father should never know.

To see Tristian fade before our eyes, a good part of me died with them as well. I sat there, numb, wondering what I did wrong in my life or the last to be challenged like this. I know not that answer.

It's been five months now since Liam was born. He is such a blessing I cannot begin to describe. Yet, deep inside I am afraid. Every little wince, every little cough, every little smile, every little babbling of baby talk. It really is a double edged sword. Every pound of enjoyment brings an ounce of pain, as I realize, this should be two boys I see doing these things.

Only later to realize, my god, if we had the twins, would Liam be here, and is that fair to him. It is a tough journey. One that I struggle with everyday.

The old Jeff would run and hide, ignore it and not let it bother him. While I may appear that way now, it's far from the truth.

This Jeff is still hurting inside, a year and six months later. I have family that barely speaks to me, I have friends that barely speak to me, but I have a great partner that is there for me.

I may feel alone at times here in Vermont, away from all that I knew, but I am glad that I have Iiri. I am glad that I got to know Julian and Tristian,aka Mr Calm and the Wriggler. I am glad that I am getting to know Liam. I am glad to see that when I come home and say hello to my son he turns away hiding with a big smile upon his face, then waits for me to kiss him most days.

I still wish I had two to come home to some days."

Part 2 coming soon.