I have struggled many times dodging questions about our children, I don't know if it is worse now "Is this your first?" or before "do you even want kids?"
Sometimes I share and am pleasantly surprised by their reaction, a few years ago I shared with a coworker-turned-friend and the reaction was filled with love and support. Other times this happens and I withdraw deeper into myself convinced that those who have never experienced such heartache would never understand anyway, which is really unfair to myself and also unfair to those whose kind hearts and open minds allow for a special level of understanding.
But how do you judge that?
I often feel like I'm living a double life as I talk openly about all of our children at home, with our families and within the loss/pregnancy community. But out and about I try to make quick judgement, does the cashier at the grocery store really need to know? How about the lady at church that I see every week? It's hard sometimes and sometimes the line blurs between what seems like two worlds and things like "with my son..." comes up before I have a chance to stop it, then I'm left standing there stumbling over my words and their questions.
I recently experienced sharing our son's story with my dental assistant, as I gracefully answered her questions I assumed I would be met with "I'm sorry" which is probably among the best replies someone can give - I mean, I realize and understand how difficult it must be to hear our story, or stories like ours, what do you say? Instead she went on to talk about her own loss, she had suffered a missed miscarriage many years ago and danced so delicately around mine, as if she felt that I had gone through so much worse than her. Many times in the loss community I have heard "but I wasn't as far as you" and when you get to forty weeks pregnant there isn't many that get as far or farther than I did with our son but that isn't truly how I feel about others. I have known the heart ache of an early ultrasound showing no heartbeat when only weeks before there was life, just as I have delivered and held my otherwise perfect son knowing he would never come home with us. When I get the opportunity to support someone who has suffered the pain of loosing a child, I feel blessed to have this story - as much as I wish no one had to loose, including myself, but if there has to be a world where amazing parents have to say good bye to their children then I am, with a broken heart, glad to be able to give more than a hushed "I'm sorry". She was so gentle with me and I can't even describe how my heart ached for her, had someone made her feel this way before? Had she spent this much time feeling like she (in her own words) overreacted? I stopped her immediately, no, don't take away from your loss just because I have suffered differently. You were pregnant, you were excited and in love with your child just as I was, you went in expecting a happy ultrasound and instead heard the worst thing a mother can hear. Please don't take away from yourself like that. We continued to talk and share our experiences, in ways that I'm sure neither of us often get to, by the end of my appointment my heart was so full. Like I said before, if this was how it had to be for me, with my son in heaven and everything else we had suffered through then I am blessed to be a beacon of hope and love to those that need it.
What if I hadn't shared with her? What if I quietly told her that our sweet Lilly was my only child and left it at that. Not only would I have taken away that experience from myself but I would also take away that brief moment where that woman could talk about her three children and not just the two seen in pictures.
I have six years of "experience" and to be completely honest I still have difficulty trying to find a happy medium between when to share and when not to share. I wish there was a way to be marked for all to see, a way for those who can't handle it to look the other way while welcoming those who can or need it. Unfortunately I am learning that the only way to do so is by sharing, not that I always do and sometimes I wish I hadn't when I did while other times I am so glad to be able to give comfort and peace to someone else or find someone who can recognize that all I really want is to be able to talk about my children without feeling like a horror story.
I should close this before I get carried away, if you're reading this and looking for ways to support someone you know here I haphazardly wrote what I felt were some of the best ways to do so.
xo, Anne.
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