We had a similar thing happen to us in COIVD. My child was born and a few weeks later, my FiL died. We were the primary caretakers for both as one came into the world and one went out.
One thing I will suggest is a death doula. Birth doulas are very good if you can afford them and worth the money, at least ours was. I really wish we'd gotten a death doula too, to help out with all the dumb things about dying. The paperwork, the adult diapers, the cleaning of a large human, bedsores, the funeral homes, etc. It's a lot of dumb little things that add up in your head that will make it want to pop.
Anyway, reading this piece was going back to a place and a person I was. I get that feeling of living on stress and adrenaline. I took up drinking at night to help out, and that wasn't smart, it wrecked the little sleep I was getting. I should have gone coffee addict or vaping instead. No, honestly, nothing was going to help in the end.
I get the alonenese, the total burnout. For about 3 years afterwards, it was nothing but mechanical robot me. Not a lot of real feelings beside rage, which I barely had the energy for. The first year flus didn't help at all either.
It is better, but like some Dr. Who transformation, I'm a new me now. I have all the memories, but I'm not the old person. I know that sounds like 'Duh, we're all like that dummy', but this time, maybe due to the compression and intensity, it feels different. Like, you thought your first kiss would change you, and it did, but not as much as you though it would. The experience of being a new parent and having that kid's grandfather die within a month, that changed me a lot more than I thought it would. And I really don't like who it changed me into.
It gets better? Maybe, I don't know yet. I hope so.
My in-laws already prepaid for their funeral burial and arrangement and my wife's, and his own fathers as well. So when it all happened, it as a lot less stress. It was still emotional, but everything was handled ahead of time.
It might seem morbid to think about, but if you can preplan your funeral arrangements so your loved ones don't have to, it's definitely one of the better things you can do. Also leaves them free of having to foot the bill.
something of note though, if it's with a specific funeral home, plan to follow up with them yearly to make sure they are still around. Dad found that out the hard way when his mom passed. He called up the funeral home and the number was disconnected.
He had to scramble NYE to find somebody to take the body and then scramble and replan everything because the funeral home had been investigated by the state after a fire and was no longer operational
Also, if you can, just put your loved ones as joint users on your banking accounts. That way when you die, it just rolls over to them without much hassle. I know not everyone has that kind of trusting relationship, but if you do, this is one little way to enjoy the fruits of it.
Thank you for sharing your story. As someone who's trying to get over my mom's passing (and not getting far) it helps so much to hear others. It wasn't until I entered the 'dead parents club' that others told me 'you never go over losing them'. Why is that some secret to bare after the fact? All my friends say 'just do some counseling'.
When my child was born, they filled a hole in me I didn't even know was there.
My FiL's passing has left a yawning chasm in me and an empty ocean in my SO's life. The club members are right, I think, you never really get over it. Time is not long enough to heal that wound.
And it's impossible to understand unless you've lived it. I think that's why its a 'secret', those on the other side just aren't going to understand. It's like trying to talk to someone in French by speaking English slower and louder. You have to go back a long ways down the communication chain, down to pure emotions. And no one wants to do that unless they have to, not just because it's too raw (and it is), but also just because it takes a really long time.
I have heard the 'just go to counseling' part too. Its ... well ... rage inducing. As if that could ever do any good and get me back to the person I was. I hear that too about veterans and their experience back home. Like we just defective and just go get fixed so that way we can go hiking and go to bars and concerts again and so you're not so sad and a bummer all the time.
Like, um, fuck you, you fucking child? Sorry ... ? Have some compassion and ...
But no, it's that they weren't there, they don't know, they can't, and that's a good thing.
You've crossed a bridge, you can't go back. They haven't, yet. They will, and then their pain will let them know your pain. And it will suck, together, for a little while, until that pain comes again in a new way.
Honestly, I can see why old people are so dour now. All these holes in their souls from all these dead people they knew.
Yeah, so, therapy didn't really help, I think you can tell.
One thing I will suggest is a death doula. Birth doulas are very good if you can afford them and worth the money, at least ours was. I really wish we'd gotten a death doula too, to help out with all the dumb things about dying. The paperwork, the adult diapers, the cleaning of a large human, bedsores, the funeral homes, etc. It's a lot of dumb little things that add up in your head that will make it want to pop.
Anyway, reading this piece was going back to a place and a person I was. I get that feeling of living on stress and adrenaline. I took up drinking at night to help out, and that wasn't smart, it wrecked the little sleep I was getting. I should have gone coffee addict or vaping instead. No, honestly, nothing was going to help in the end.
I get the alonenese, the total burnout. For about 3 years afterwards, it was nothing but mechanical robot me. Not a lot of real feelings beside rage, which I barely had the energy for. The first year flus didn't help at all either.
It is better, but like some Dr. Who transformation, I'm a new me now. I have all the memories, but I'm not the old person. I know that sounds like 'Duh, we're all like that dummy', but this time, maybe due to the compression and intensity, it feels different. Like, you thought your first kiss would change you, and it did, but not as much as you though it would. The experience of being a new parent and having that kid's grandfather die within a month, that changed me a lot more than I thought it would. And I really don't like who it changed me into.
It gets better? Maybe, I don't know yet. I hope so.