That damn question
I feel guilty that I do not feel more sadness. I read others who have been through loss like I have, who have also had a living child and they seem to grieve more. I don’t know what that means. Did the years of infertility treatments change my reaction? Is it timing? Is it just a difference in personality? Or does it just mean I am going to get hit with a wall of grief one of these days soon. Some days I think I can feel one waiting just around the corner.
I have become far too comfortable answering “Yes, she is our first.” Often there is the briefest of pauses before it rattles off my tongue; I don’t think anyone notices. More guilt – not just as a mom, but also as a woman, a spokesperson, if you will. My silence, my picture of perfect happiness, turns me into someone I’m not. Is that the image I want to give?
Interestingly, I find it much more effortless to mention the infertility and IVF than Devin, the loss. Infertility is becoming leads of a taboo subject, I’ve noticed. It is common and slowly it is being talked about in a casual and honest way. It’s not a big deal when I mention that Kate is a product of IVF; there is sometimes some curiosity, usually just a simple acknowledgment. Plus it is always my choice whether to mention it or not. No one starts conversation with, “Was she conceived naturally?”
Stillbirth, on the other hand, brings a conversation to a halt. There are the stutters, the apologies, the awkward pauses. It is never just, “My son, Devin.” It’s always, “My son, Devin, who died.” I just got tired of trying to explain, tired of dealing with the reactions, tired of throwing cold water on conversations. So instead I say, “Yes,” and paint a pretty picture that doesn’t exist.
I just wish everyone knew and I didn’t have to explain it over and over again. She’s our first live child we are raising. She is not our first child. Our son was stillborn two years ago. It was terrible and we miss him every day, but we are blessed with a beautiful daughter and we live with as much joy as we can. But how can words possibly convey how our lives changed forever, how we live in this double world where there are no simple explanations?
So I don’t even try. I feel like a coward.
It wouldn’t be so hard if the question wasn’t the first one that everyone asked. But it is.
that’s so hard, sweetie. i agree that infertility has become less of a taboo subject, yet the subject of stillbirth remains so. don’t feel like a coward, you are anything but that. you have two beautiful children no matter what. hugs to you!!
It must be so hard for you. I don’t think what you are doing is wrong. Surely it is on a need to know basis. The people who are close know and that’s all that matters. It would be so hard on your heart to have to explain it to every stranger who asks.
We all know you love Devin and miss him and he is your first..
With time stillbirth will be spoken of more just as IF and IVF is.
X
I found it easier to answer the question when I was pregnant. My standard answer was “no living children” – I didn’t feel like I was denying Francesca then. But now, when random people ask if Julia is our first, I just say yes. Like you, I sometimes worry about my joy with Julia – does Francesca resent that I’m not consumed by sadness anymore? I don’t know the right answer. Just know that you’re not the only one doing the same thing and having the same misgivings.
It really is a hard question to answer. When I was pregnant with Erin is was hard, because it WASN’T my first pregnancy, I had already had a full term pregnancy with labor & delivery, and when it’s your first pregnancy the btdt people treat you differently. But if I said it wasn’t my first, people always asked “so how many children do you have?” So I started answering “It’smysecondpregnancybutmyfirstbabywasstillborn” just to get it all out at once.
When Erin was born, and people would ask, I started answering “She’s our first to come home.” If they didn’t understand and kept asking, well, then that’s on them. It was a little less awkward than “My first baby died.”
I agree though, I wish that there was some sort of sign, some sort of signal, so that everyone would just KNOW. But then again, I would hate walking around and having everyone pity me.
You know, being in a military community there might be families around you that have experienced a loss (although different from yours) and give you tips. Also check with the elderly in your community that have lost children.
It’s up to you how you want to present yourself and how much you want to get into such a deeply personal and emotion matter.
I’ve found that when I bring up charged issues that tend to stop people, that I state the facts, maybe fluff it off as the past and dealt with, then move the conversation in a new direction. Having a follow up after the statement gets things moving again, especially if you can ask a question that forces them to keep moving in the new conversational vein.
Don’t feel like a coward and don’t feel bad. I totally understand. On a different level mind you – but every time anyone asks – so does your mom totally love Evie, Grandma this, does she help watch Evie – etc etc etc – it is always the awkward time. I’ll say – oh she passed on. And then the next question is – well how? And it snowballs from there – and I get the same reaction – the horror – the stutters – the silences. I now don’t say anything as just as much of a shield for ME than for them. Because invariably – YOU try to make THEM feel better – even though you were the victim of it. Which is natural – but it still sucks.