Recently I was out for coffee with two friends. One friend asked what was new with me. I was kind of annoyed as obviously the only thing new with me is tragedy. So I answered honestly and said, "Well my baby died". The look on both their faces was pure shock. It may sound morbid to just blatantly say it, but it is true. To me, it is normal to say and it is normal to hear. After all that is the only thing new in my life. It consumes me. "Whoa, punch me in the gut why don't ya!" was her response. Then it hit me - that is how I feel every single time I think about our loss. Every reminder I feel like I have been punched in the gut.
When I see a baby
When I see a little boy
When I see baby clothes
When I see boy things
When I see or hear about a pregnancy
When I hear the word brother, baby, angel, heaven, died, death, killed
Every.Single.Time.I.Log.Onto.Facebook
It all does it. It must be grief. Damn grief punches me in the stomach all day long. How am I to leave the house? How am I to watch t.v? How can I do anything with my two year old daughter that doesn't remind me of my loss?
He died. It is not a secret. It happened. I have to become comfortable saying it, and you my friends, need to become comfortable hearing it. It is not going away. Now, 10, 30 years from now I will still have a son that died. So please, become comfortable with it. If you talk to me about it - about him, you will see that it will become o.k. for you to talk about. Talking about things is how we become comfortable with a topic. Our society isn't comfortable with the topic of death - especially the death of a baby or child. It's not natural for our littles to die and so we turn our heads to the topic because we don't know how to handle such sad conversations. Unfortunately, many families have to deal with this incredibly painful loss. Please don't turn your back on infant and child loss. Become comfortable with expressing your thoughts and feelings in a respectful manner when you are in the company of those suffering.
That one minute of uncomfortableness for you, is a lifetime of uncomfortableness for me.
I think the feigned casual conversations are some of the most difficult, especially in the first fragile months after the death of a child. What's new? Every time I am asked this question, it re-engages the painful muscle memory that ONLY MY life has changed when Zachary died. I sat in the dentist's chair about 3 months after Zachary died. It was torture to even go back there, as it is when you first start resuming some normal activities. The unfamiliar hygenist asked me how the kids were doing, I suppose assuming I had a house full. I briefly told her that Zachary had died just a couple of months previous. (I think I even hid from her that we had lost our other son Benjamin to stillbirth years ago). She proceeded to ask if we had fun plans for spring break. I was blown away.
ReplyDeleteI am so sorry for the loss of your precious Sawyer. I found your blog via glow. Your honest and heartfelt points about relationships in the aftermath of loss (of course) resonate with me.
Thank you Gretchen. I am so sorry for the loss of your two boys. I have been meaning to make a dentist appointment too, but I am dreading the questions. I have been avoiding it. People often assume and they shouldn't! I must say though, I don't think most people have the capability to manage these conversations. I don't think they are trying to be hurtful, they just don't see it the way we do. Thinking of you and your boys.
Delete