“New Normal.”

^^^I feel this to my core.

There is no normal about this. I’m trying to do things to feel “normal” and it just seems to make things worse. I feel sad. I feel angry. I feel like my world just stopped when Knox left me.

A dear friend of mine shared words with me that really resonated with me and put things into a persepctive I hadn't thought about. She said, “I can imagine, there are parts of you that have to move forward for Beau and watch him grow but you also want to remain in one place because that’s where Knox is.” She's so right. Part of me is keeping me in "this" portion of my life because I don't want to accept that Knox isn't here anymore. I hate feeling like that. I already feel like in 2 months I’m already starting to forget some of his details — I know he was here. I know he was loved (and still very much is.) He was a human being. I'm not forgetting that. But I feel like memories such as the sound of his coos, his smell, his little newborn stretch, the weight of his little body resting on my chest.. are slipping. I regret not taking more videos of just his "everyday" but of course, I didn't think he would be gone so soon.

I can't keep up on life; my friendships, my business, my family, doing just everyday (seemingly minimal) tasks. To be really transparentwith you all, it took me almost 2 hours to brush my hair because I had let it get so tangled + matted. I know it's an easy task to just do everyday but it seems like a massive undertaking to me. I know that taking care of myself is important, but I can't even get myself to do my own "everyday" things. I used to wake up every morning, feed my little Knoxyboy, make our bed, give butt changes, make Beau and I breakfast and start our day with joy. Now I struggle to get out of bed even when Beau jumps on me with smiles + giggles. I don't make the bed. I don't make myself breakfast. I don't start most of my days with joy.

Waking up actually seems so unreal some mornings. Most days, I have to psych myself to get up to get the day going. I put on a brave face for Beau, because even though Knox isn't here, I still want to give him as many good days as I can because he deserves them. Sometimes that means sending him with a loved one so he can get some much needed undivided attention. The laundry is piled, the dishes are hardly ever done, and despite my best effort, toys are everywhere. At this current moment, I have 118 texts + 26 missed phone calls with people reaching out with good intentions but responding (even though it's just a simple task) seems overwhelming + daunting. I've learned that my poor friends (God love them so much) have started a group chat without me so that when I do respond to one of them, they can give a check-in status on me to update one another. I don't even want to get into how far behind I am on my business inquiries and responses. I have 8 blog drafts that I haven't posted because again, it may seems so easy to just push "publish" but my goodness, these little things pile up and it feels like too much. And one would think, well just start going through them, checking them off. Easier said than done right now. I know for a FACT all of these things are not completely definitive of a good mom, good wife, a good friend, a good business owner, etc. but they sure feel like it sometimes and it honestly feels like Knox dying has just caused things to crumble. I am trying to just pick up the pieces before I lose things that are important to me.

My husband is so patient with me. He's let me take some time for myself to just be alone (or with a friend or family member). I try to be "normal" and do normal things, but it just doesn't feel right. Not without Knox here. I often have fun in the moment and once it's over, feel guilty. I know I shouldn't feel like that but it's just reality. I also acknowledge that sitting at home + crying isn't a good solution either. Seems like constant lose-lose situations.

I know that things will be better one day + time will hopefully heal. I'm really not trying to be a Debbie downer here but it's only been 2 months and a few days since I lost one of the most single important things in my life. I think some people who are not close to me, in a way, have forgotten that. I saw some words shared that said, "if you simply cannot understand why someone is grieving so much, for so long, then consider yourself fortunate that you do not understand." I feel like it's acceptable to feel sorry for myself and my loss; not just of my child in general, but what could have been; what Knox would grow to be, what the Cassens would have been as a party of 4, what Beau would be like as a big brother. I've said these things before but I just want to reiterate that I'm mourning these losses, too. Today Knox would have been 3 months old. I should be forgetting (lol) to take his monthly picture with the same little blocks we used for his big brother. I should be posting about the milestones he hit and sharing how proud I am of him with friends + family. I get to mourn that, too. Instead, I have to just imagine what that would all look like because these little pieces of life were taken from me.

I keep being reminded that I am strong; from friends, from family, from complete strangers. I am here and still standing (and just to clarify, I will continue to be) but I don't feel strong. People ask what they can do for me, but really, I don't have an answer. When people ask me how I am, the generic response is usually "fine." I don't feel fine. I feel overwhelmed with so many emotions; yes, I feel sad but also feel grateful for Knox and his life. Yes, I feel angry but also feel happy that Beau is still here with us. I have so many contradictory emotions at once it's hard for me to keep up with, and trying to explain them (as I am attempting right now to) just feels like a mumbled, jumbled mess.

It was so fun right after Knox was born because we got to talk about his birth story, and if you're new here, it was a wild one. It was empowering to talk (and subtle brag 😉) about how things happened and how Knox was such a champ during the whole thing. Now, I can tell, oftentimes people don't know whether to talk about him or not when they see me (and it's okay, I wouldn't know either). I don't want to bring Knox up to someone if it makes them uncomfortable talking about him; a child dying is uncomfortable. I know it makes people sad.. people have cried to me about him, and I don't always cry back but it makes me sad, too.

I just feel like I'm navigating so much right now and trying to discover and implement this new "normal." There are so many things to learn and to readjust.

It'll happen sometime, someday. Parents who have went through similar situations share with me that you learn how to deal with the pain, you learn how to avoid something small from triggering a breakdown, you learn how to be strong. For now, I am still learning. I don't know what the next day is going to bring. I try to be hopeful but it's hard. Again, if you can't understand, please consider yourself fortunate.

And this is just one of the unfortunate, negative side effects of losing a child. These feelings are not fun. They're not enjoyable or easy. BUT I will continue to walk through my life with my husband and Beau with Knox in our hearts. I will continue trying every day to learn this new "normal" and to have glimmers of happiness. I will teach myself that it's okay to have the good moments and not be regretful over them after they have happened. My soul is uneasy but as my brother in law told me, I will not let Satan have a seat at my table. I will try to let this experience teach others. I don't know what yet, but it'll come.

Thanks for being here. (And if you're one of my bazillion calls or texts that I haven't responded to, I'm so sorry.)