The way it works.

Here is an example as to how a wave of grief is triggered.

This morning I looked at my calendar, the one that holds all of the family appointments.  I thought this coming week was Caroline's 5-year check up.  I was wrong, it was this past Thursday and I missed it.

Those of you who know me, know that I am organized, on time and certainly make all of our medical appointments.  Since grieving became my full-time job, I am having a hard time focusing on all of life's details.

Right now I am embarrassed that I screwed up.  Frustrated that I am going to have to reschedule this appointment as getting in with Dr. Jones can be challenging.  Amazed at how widespread my grief goes.  Sad that my son isn't with me (surely if Ethan hadn't died I wouldn't be preoccupied with grief, and therefore would have made Caroline's appointment).  And angry with myself that I didn't get a better hold of this.

Well-child check-ups are something I love.  I love Dr. Jones and all of her staff.  I enjoy learning how much my child has grown and hearing how well they are doing.  Even trouble-shooting parenting challenges with our pediatrician is positive.  But you see, since my son died I feel the need to take my kids to these check-ups.  I need to hear that they are healthy.  That they are thriving.  It's not that I worry that my older three are sick, or that they are going to die.  It's just that one of my sons was actually so sick that he did die.  I need to be told that Caroline is healthy.  To be reassured that I am doing everything right as a parent.

My disappointment is stronger than it would have been since I missed Ryan's 1 year well-child check-up.  I was in the emergency room with terrible kidney stones 2 weeks after Ethan died for that one.

Rationally I know this is not a big deal, it's just one appointment.  I'm not that parent that has a record of missing appointments.  That it can just be rescheduled, and if it needs to be with one of the nurse practitioners they are wonderful too.  It's just that grief is not rational.  It is utterly emotional.