Halloween…a day late

I know this post is a day late and I feel it is important to explain why… It has taken 2 years - 2 Halloweens to figure out how to write my feelings about what used to be my favorite holiday. I think because this was my favorite holiday it has been so much harder to describe the conflicting feelings I have. This post has been 2 years in my head bouncing around without much to show for it - a challenge to my grief fog brain that still shows up at times. It also does not escape me that Halloween happens to be the end of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, which has been a challenging month for me the past two years.

 Halloween has always been my favorite holiday. I always loved the decorations, the costumes, the joy of kids ringing the doorbell excited for more sugary treats. I love the sense of community as you walk around trick-or-treating. I love that Halloween can be equally exciting for all with no age restrictions. I could go on and on about my love of Halloween (and honestly all of fall).

Following Benjamin's loss, I have found Halloween to be a more challenging holiday. Those same decorations that I always loved now can be a harsh reminder of his loss. Decorations that are so common in Halloween set ups - like tombstones or skeletons - feel like harsh reminders that our son is dead. Seeing other children in costumes brings up sadness and so many what-ifs. This year is the first time since Benjamin's loss that anyone has asked what I think he would be if he was here. And honestly, as sad as that question may seem to those not experiencing the loss of a child, it was so nice to be seen. What would Benjamin want to be for Halloween if he was alive? Benjamin would be 2.5 years old, so I am guessing he would go with the flow and join in on the family costume. His big sister was Elsa this year and I dressed as Queen Anna. I think he would have been Olaf… imagine a toddler snowman running around hyped up on sugary treats - too adorable. It made me think more about what life might have been… Would he be excited to ring doorbells and meet the neighbors or would he be shy and hide behind my legs like his big sister did at that age?  

While I cannot speak for all loss parents, I can say that for me the secondary losses sometimes sting more than the initial loss did. Secondary losses are all the losses that follow the death - all the milestones that will never be met, all the firsts that will never happen. These secondary losses also sting a bit more because they are often not acknowledged by others. People who have never lost a child likely do not think twice about these missed milestones and firsts, because they are often busy living those milestones and firsts with their kiddos - as they should be.

Because I have an older daughter, I feel I hover between these two worlds - the mom focusing on her kid and trying to make every memory magical and the mom missing her kid and wishing she had the opportunity to have those moments. When people acknowledge the challenge that comes with hovering in both of these worlds, such as by asking what Benjamin may have been for Halloween, it is the validation that I belong in both these settings. It is the acknowledgement that I can miss my son while also trying to make Halloween special and memorable for my daughter. It is the feeling that grief and happiness can coexist, no matter how messy it may be.

So to all the other loss parents out there, I hope your Halloween was a gentle one. I hope someone acknowledged your little one gone too soon and the fact that they were missing on the first of many upcoming holidays. These next few months are challenging ones for most of us. My hope for you is that someone acknowledges your little one and is not afraid to say their name and ask about them.

Sending love, strength, and support your way,

Ashley