I tell everybody that I'm okay, but I'm not. I am feeling better than I did a month or two ago, but I'm not where I was before Ada died. I wonder if I will ever be back to how I used to be. Right now I just don't feel up to speaking - literally. It doesn't seem worth the effort. What is wrong with me?
Last night we went to see an awesome night shuttle launch - it was the first launch I'd seen since 6 days after I found out I was pregnant with Ada. We went with another couple who has a one-year-old and is expecting again. They don't know about Ada. Several times I wanted to make comments about when I was pregnant just to make conversation (like when it came up that she can't eat feta cheese), but I realized that it would probably make them uncomfortable, so I just stayed quiet.
Then, while we were waiting for the shuttle to launch, there was a family nearby. They had a little boy and a tiny baby girl. I kept wondering when she was born. How big would Ada be now? Is this baby about the same size that Ada would be? Of course, I didn't say anything, not even to Hunter, because what's the point?
And then I get home and get this email about an Advent class at church:
Do you really want me to bring a picture of my baby?? And by the way, I will only be bringing one picture, not two, because that's all I have. What about all of the people who don't have babies? I thought this was extremely insensitive. And of course, once again, I'll probably just remain quiet - or not go. Nobody wants to hear me or my sad story.
Last night we went to see an awesome night shuttle launch - it was the first launch I'd seen since 6 days after I found out I was pregnant with Ada. We went with another couple who has a one-year-old and is expecting again. They don't know about Ada. Several times I wanted to make comments about when I was pregnant just to make conversation (like when it came up that she can't eat feta cheese), but I realized that it would probably make them uncomfortable, so I just stayed quiet.
Then, while we were waiting for the shuttle to launch, there was a family nearby. They had a little boy and a tiny baby girl. I kept wondering when she was born. How big would Ada be now? Is this baby about the same size that Ada would be? Of course, I didn't say anything, not even to Hunter, because what's the point?
And then I get home and get this email about an Advent class at church:
I want those who plan to attend the First Sunday, November 30, at 9:30 AM to bring one or two pictures of their babies to share with us. My babies are now 55 and 58.
Do you really want me to bring a picture of my baby?? And by the way, I will only be bringing one picture, not two, because that's all I have. What about all of the people who don't have babies? I thought this was extremely insensitive. And of course, once again, I'll probably just remain quiet - or not go. Nobody wants to hear me or my sad story.
5 comments:
Oh, Beth, nothing is wrong with you. I think we have to find a new normal, instead of expecting to get back to the place we were.
I understand your uncertainty about when/if to say something about your pregnancy and Ada to other people. Personally, I choose to talk about my pregnancy and daughter a lot (and I'd probably bring a picture of my daughter to the First Sunday, but maybe that's me just being a little spiteful ;) since I agree it's an insensitive thing to write). I know it can be hard to share our stories with people who don't know. But we did have pregnancies and we do have children. It is normal to want to talk about shared experiences with people. Fortunately, every time I bring it up, I am glad I did (and I am often surprised by how many people share their own stories). There is a lot of compassion out there, and it is nice to take it wherever you can get it. Be gentle with yourself (easier said than done sometimes, I know).
I know what is wrong with you...you lost your beautiful little girl. I hope you don't feel like your feelings are abnormal after the tragedy you have endured. If you aren't normal, than there is no hope for me either! I understand what you mean about it not being worth the effort to speak sometimes. I would be sad if I was asked to bring pictures of my children, because my pictures are of my dead son. I can see why that would hurt. Last night I was in a game room and saw so many babies and children. I went through and chose the kids Gregory would have looked like! I don't know if it will ever get better, but I want you to know that I think of you often. This grief is real, and I'm so sorry such a great and worthy mother has to hurt so much.
I had a very similar post about a week ago. It is very hard to have to go on with life, when your life doesn't feel like a life anymore. I'm reading a book right now on grieving the loss of a child, and it talks about the importance of having a life, and not just an existence. But how do you get your life back, when it feels like your heart isn't beating anymore? I will say yes 8 times out of 10when asked if I have a child, and undoubtly those times that I say no I feel unbelievable guilt. I ask myself why I care about their comfort level when death is a fact of life and talking about my daughter (who happens to live in heaven) should be acceptable. Of course, I don't make it the entire topic of a conversation but I do get sick of feeling like I have to take everyone else's feelings into account. I know I have to accept what God has planned for my life, and I wish I could say that I was to that point~but you know what? I'm not, but I'm working that out with God. I guess none of us will ever really be okay again...
There is absolutely nothing wrong with you! I honestly don't think we will ever be back to the way we were. We're changed people now. We're mother's who have lost a child. It's like a whole different breed of human. We hate it, but it's the title that's been handed to us.
As far as mentioning Ada - I encourage you too! She is your daughter and there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. I used to not mention Cameron and then found myself feeling guilty afterwards. Then, I quit caring what people think, because that's my son and I'll talk about him whenever I damn well please :)
Also, I found it helps if you speak in a nonchalant manner. It's hard to think of doing that when speaking of your dead child, but it is possible. I am always searching for ways to bring up Cameron. When people are talking about pregnancy or babies, I always chime in with, "With Cameron it was this way..." or "I think Cameron would have been my calm and collected baby...", for example. People usually smile and we continue with the conversation like any other!
Sometimes people get a look of sorrow on their face, but I tell them it's OK. We're handling it the best way we know how.
You would be surprised at how many women have their own story to share once you share your own. About 7 our of 10 women I speak to and share Cameron with, have their own loss to share with me. So, you never know who you'll be helping by bringing up Ada.
I know when I speak of Cameron, and they have had a loss, they are so happy to share their story with me, and I know it makes them feel just as good as I do when I talk about Cam!
I also wanted to add...
I don't get the whole uncomfortable feeling with people. People share stories of their dead grandparents, parents, siblings, or whatever else, and that doesn't effect anyone.
Why is it so different with our babies? They have just as much right to be remembered and talked about as the next door ladies dead grandfather.
I know it's not "normal" to have a dead child, but that doesn't mean we can't talk about them.
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