Honestly, I don't know what it's going to be. Confusing probably. I know I'm a father, but no one else does. People who don't know our story don't know that I held my sons in my arms, and kissed them, and told them I love them, and then watched them quietly pass away. If that doesn't make a man a father I don't know what does.
So, I guess, Father's Day will be what I want it to be. A more proactive approach seems needed here. I could sulk, which is valid, or I could celebrate, which is preferred. I could spend the day thankful for the few moments I had with my boys, how they made me a father, how they're making me a stronger man... a better husband. I could spend the day making the memory of Asher and Evan a joyful one. A day enjoying the legacy rather than fixating on the loss.
How have you celebrated Father's Day? Any special traditions? Any favorite memories?
J,
ReplyDeleteThanks for inviting me to hear about your process. This post was extremely moving and you are a father in every way I can think of as well. Peace to you and Beck. My lovely wife took me to Red Lobster on Father's Day....only had to wait 76 minutes for a table too!
I found you through Grieving Out Loud.
ReplyDeleteMy son was born onhis due date at 8:55am June 18th, 2010. His name was Evan. Evan Riley Davies.
He crashed shortly after his traumatic and dangerously fast feet first birth. He was resuscitated and brought back but he was gone, brain dead. Worst entry into this world possible + not enough oxygen flowing to his vital organs (including brain) = brain dead.
My husband's first real Father's Day still hasn't happened. We've lost both of our children (Evan's big sister died at 17 weeks gestation almost 2 years ago now). He doesn't get any cute cards ("signed" by his babies) that are slightly chewed on and drooly. I don't get any for Mother's Day either.
I am so sorry to hear about your twin baby boys. It's just not fair.