No Substitute for My Son

My 3 "Big Sisters" with their Griffin Bear.

I took the girls to do Gretchen's 2 year old pictures a few months ago.
I pulled out matching dresses for the big girls on the off chance that they would all be well-behaved and smile nice for a 3 girls photo. I also grabbed the Griffin Bear.

Who is this Griffin Bear you ask?
A few years ago I acquired this perfectly soft stuffed animal when I won a newborn package, complete with gender neutral onesies, from an online contest. All the clothing has been divided up between my girls and others' babies but the bear remained in a box in storage. Each of the girls had been given a bear when they came home, each with a shirt saying, "I was born in such and such Hospital." They have never been toys to play with, never really been loved properly for all their soft pink fuzz and removable shirts. Their bears just sit on shelves or in a keepsake bin, a quiet reminder of time spent in the captivity of the NICU.
       When Griffin was coming we dragged out all the baby stuff one more time and found this little buddy bear hanging out all alone. Wearing his gold bow tied neatly around his neck, he was soft and lovable and we thought  he was the perfect gift for the latest addition to the family. He would be someone for the baby to snuggle, a lovie that the girls could bring for their sibling when it was time for comfort and settling to sleep. I know I had thought about the girls' bears and secretly planned to buy this one a shirt (if all went well) that said, "I was born at home." But none of that happened. He wasn't born at home and he would not need a snuggle buddy to put him to sleep, because he was born forever asleep.
       When we came home without Griffin, I needed to sort through the few things I had put in a three drawer dresser in preparation for a new little one. I came across the "Little Brother" onesie I had bought a few years and a few girls ago, thinking that one of them would wear it. Since I never took the time to dress Griffin and it was too hard to give away this shirt, I took his planned gift, the little buddy of a bear, and dressed him in it.        After the girls came home, he somewhat naturally became the 'Griffin Bear' and took up residence on the blue chair in our living room. As the days went on, the girls would move him around, dancing him into the kitchen and tossing him under the table. From there I would pick him up and set him on the counter or at the table on the bench. Another big sister would drag him by the arm up to bed to snuggle or leave him next to the tub as she stripped and jumped in. This bear migrated around the house, room by room, and is now a regular part of the family.

       So just as I hoped on that planned picture day, that all three girls would sit still and smile nice for group photos, I also crossed my fingers that I could quietly set the Griffin Bear in one pose of all of them and get a shot of all 4 of my "kids" together. It could not have gone better as you might be able to tell in my picture above. Not only did I get great pictures of them smiling, I got one of them gazing at the bear just like a baby, cradled in Charlotte's arm with Eden and Gretchen looking on wistfully. You can almost see, if you scroll correctly, the big sisters admiring a real baby, their real brother, coaxing him to smile as they hold his hand, tickle his toes, talk to him in silly voices. Almost.

Admiring their Griffin Bear.

           The photographer was a champ. She posed that bear just like a real kid. She threw together multiple poses of all my "children" and then thought to do one snap of each of the girls with him too. Bless her for that. I kept it together the whole time, smiling as I sorted and ordered and paid for the session. I took the girls to a sit-down lunch, then shopping at the hobby store and eventually loaded them up for home. It had been an entirely successful day. To top it off, all three of my beautiful girls closed their eyes on the way home, heads nodding forward and mouths silent. In another life, the heavens would have opened and angels would have sung their praises about how glorious a day it had been. But they didn't.
       The sun shone through the windshield and I let loose a downpour of tears over this tremendous triumph that was my day. Though I was happy to be mom of the year for accomplishing so much, I was heartbroken that it had been so easy. That thought in and of itself caused another gust of Grief to take my breath away. I should be so grateful for this, for all that I have, I kicked myself. Instead I was angry, hurt, and oh so lost.


I took a fucking stuffed animal in place of my son.
That is no substitute.

Griffin Bear

Cute and cuddly, soft as Griffin's hair really was.
The perfect length of a newborn babe.
Lightweight and fits forever into a big sister's arms.
But it's a toy. A silly toy.
No substitute for my son.


      The sun still shone, I dried my tears and looked over at my
passenger seat. Griffin Bear got to ride shotgun that day, got dragged into the house in the same load as my purse and other purchases. Cast aside for a few weeks, he has wandered about playing or lounging, still wearing his little brother duds, still just waiting for a chance to be snuggled.
        I am grateful, but I am angry and hurt and lost in turns as well. We were given a few things to put in our empty arms after losing Griffin: two other bears, and a  'heart to hold' that weighs his full 7 pounds. I have tried to pick them up when I get that ache to carry my son. They are appreciated and help for short times, but ultimately, the closest we have come is his little buddy. I'm happy he isn't sitting on a shelf or in a bin collecting dust. Though he can't really replace the brother my daughters have longed for, he can be a visual for them, a playmate to pick up when they are ready and of course, the one little brother that they can fight over whenever the mood strikes. I will be even happier I think, when he is showing the wear of the years of handling...when I have to patch a knee or shoulder, and when I have to wash his shirt. Maybe then I will feel a little closer myself to what we could have had.