Signs

We have spent the last little while planning and researching, and then last week and this week, planting our fruit and nut orchard (many thanks to Simon for your tips and advice).

Peter and I have had a tough few weeks (emotionally, lots of memories and thoughts coming up about darling Leroy) so it felt extra good to get the trees into the ground! It's another thing that has been on our list for a seemingly very long time.

Dylan has been an amazing team member, and with the beautiful sunshine it's been lots of fun. He is  really into picnics, so we had afternoon tea on a picnic rug near the trees we were planting. It was divine. Not long after that a beautiful rainbow came out. It stayed for a very long time, and we talked about Leroy, how much we missed him, and how the rainbow was his way of saying hello to us.

Many people have asked about Dylan and how he has fared with his brother having such a severe brain injury and then dying. So I am going to assume that many others have wondered but not asked, so here goes. Dylan is going fabulously. He gets sad sometimes when he thinks about Leroy and looks at his photos, and he asks us questions which sometimes are hard to answer, and he is wonderful.  I think because Peter and I have been very open and honest about everything (ie no whispering and hiding things from him), he has taken it all in his stride.

He understands that crying is ok (ie there's nothing wrong), and being sad is ok, and that it's all part of loving, and part of the cycle of life - 'just like the chook died', he sometimes says. Dylan was with us when Leroy died, and when we brought Leroy back home with us after he died. When we were at the crematorium, Dylan planted a very wet kiss on Leroy's face (no prompting I might add) - the photos of Leroy show the wet spot on Leroy's cheek very clearly, and Dylan commented "oooh, he's cold".
As I look out at our friendship garden, our vegie garden and fruit trees, I am reminded of the amazing support we have had and continue to receive.  All the plants that were given to us in memory of Leroy, our wonderful friends who coordinated and got us organised, our friends who helped dig our plants into the ground, who helped build our new vegie garden and seating area (including shoveling, wheel-barrowing and spreading 10 cubic metres of crushed rock) and so, so many other things.


I also think about the incredible financial contribution we have received from so many. We still have money in Leroy's bank account for planting more trees as we get to them.... it has been phenomenal and we cannot thank you all enough. Our living, growing memory of Leroy has been possible because of you.

Perspective

Peter and I went to a parent's bereavement support group a few weeks ago. I had been meaning to go for a long time. Every month the day would come and it was just too hard or I was too tired etc. Something always got in the way. Not this time. I felt like I was 'ready'.  As fortune would have it, my mum was staying with us and at the last minute, Peter was able to come too.

I am so glad I went. 

It was the first time we had had any interaction with other bereaved parents and for me, it was a positive experience. I knew it was going to be hard to listen to other parent's stories of losing their children, and it was. But it also gave me some perspective.

It was heart wrenching and I cried many tears for others, but it also made me feel 'normal'. As I looked around the circle of people, I thought, "Gosh, they are just like us, normal people".  It made me appreciate all the support we have received since Leroy's birth and death, and how dedicated Peter and I have been to healing and working together to support one another.

The parents we met that night had dealt with incredibly hard situations to deal with (and still are) and it was a privilege to have met them.

The other night I was surfing the net and came across an extensive research paper on shoulder dystocia. It had some medical language in it, but was also written in a very clear and easy to understand way.

It mainly dealt with the question of whether shoulder dystocia can be detected/predicted (and therefore prevented) prior to birth. Well, after trawling through the article, the answer is no. I was not in any of the risk categories (obese, diabetic etc) and the statistics for interventions like episiotomy (in an attempt to help get the baby out more quickly) were bad, with mostly worse outcomes.

From previous conversations and research I knew this already, we were in the best place (for us) birthing Leroy at home, with our fantastically experienced team (ie midwives!) who managed to get Leroy out quickly and calmly. It was just plain old bad luck. Sometimes that bad luck is such a bitter pill to swallow.

My darling Leroy
With eyes so blue
I feel you so near me
My beautiful boy
I love you xxxxxx