I find myself in an in-between place on so many things. I don’t fit into any category anymore, even those I did before.<\/p>\n
I think about all the times in live when people you don’t really know make conversation… at the hair-dresser, waiting in line, chatting at a party. All those times people ask, “Do you have children?” I think about this and wonder what the hell will I answer now? Either answer I give is unpleasant. I could say simply, “No.” It’s sort of true: we don’t have any living children, it is just me and my husband. I know that is more or less the answer they would expect. But it’s not really true, we did<\/i> have a child. I carried a child for 8 months; I gave birth to a child. But if I do answer, “Yes,” people will assume I mean a live<\/i> child and ask how old he is or some other comment appropriate for a mother of a live child. Somehow I don’t think, “Yes, we had a child – he died,” is what people would expect in a lighthearted conversation.<\/p>\n
I’m sure in time I will figure out a way to answer that is both appropriate and honest. Someday I’ll be able to say, “Our firstborn died,” without crying. But this is the very question that keeps me away from public places right now. I am fine being around people who know – people who I can talk to honestly, people who don’t mind me crying as I talk about my son. But I am not ready for the hairdresser. I am not ready for the cashier. I am not ready to talk about him without pouring my heart out. And I can only imagine how uncomfortable and caught-off-guard a stranger would feel to stumble across that kind of emotional rats nest unintentionally.<\/p>\n
There are other things that I find myself falling between the categories with. Infertility, for one. Am I infertile? Well, technically as far as we know, yes. Having a child doesn’t really change that, I’ll be forever infertile. But what the hell are we dealing with now? Primary infertility or secondary? Do I belong on TTC#1 forums? That seems not quite right. We got pregnant, we had a son. I am a mother. I got to experience all of pregnancy, and I recognize that pretty much all of the women on those forums have not had that chance. But by the same token, I certainly don’t feel right on TTC#2 or more forums where everyone is talking about their child(ren). I am in between. I slip between the cracks.<\/p>\n
I am finding a lot of comfort talking to others who have also lost their babies, those who are struggling or have struggled with the same things I find myself dealing with. That doesn’t mean I don’t value everyone else’s support, not at all…. everything counts. But there is some measure of comfort simply in finding a place that you belong, even if it’s a place that you never ever wanted to be. Whether or not I want<\/i> to be, I am the mother of a stillborn child. It’s who I am now. And somehow it helps me heal to acknowledge that and embrace it.<\/p>\n
Even thinking about our next child. The next one will always be just that: our second child.<\/p>\n
::<\/p>\n
I am encouraged when I read the blogs of those who either had a child before their loss, or had a child after the loss… it’s helpful to see how children deal with it. I admit, at first I was really upset with the fact that our future children would have to grow up with the terrible knowledge that their older sibling died. It seems so unfair to them, to be born into such a sad circumstance. I guess that comes partially from me having grown up with such a perfect, happy family. Of course I want that for my children.<\/p>\n
But you know… when I became an adult I started hearing more stories of the extended family, things I never knew. Several relatives had children they gave up for adoption at birth. I’m just learning now that some of our relatives and long-time family friends – both Den’s and mine – lost children to miscarriage or stillbirth. We are a little surprized, a little shocked. How come we never knew this part of our family history? Why does no one talk about it? That used to be the way of things: bad things were swept under the rug. No one told the siblings about the child that was given up – no one was even told about the pregnancy. I think about those relatives going through that period of their life and feel so very sad. Not only did they had this huge horrible life event to deal with, but they had to do it alone. They weren’t allowed to talk about it. They weren’t allowed to acknowledge it. They suffered in silence.<\/p>\n
I am so thankful that is not how it is for us. That is not how it will be with Devin. He is not ever going to be forgotten, not by us, not by anyone. Den’s mom has a grandmother’s ring that she adds to whenever she gets new grandchildren. She told us that she is still going to add a stone for Devin. I can’t even tell you how much that means to me, to both of us. I just wanted to cry with relief when Den told me.<\/p>\n
I’m sure some people will think that it’s easier to gloss over it, pretend it never happened… to get on with life. But that’s not how it is. I hope to gently let people know that it’s okay to talk about him – it’s good to acknowledge his life and death. Through us people will know him – people do<\/i> know him. This journal lets me share with the world all the joy he brought to us. Now it lets us share our grief and sorrow. We do not walk alone.<\/p>\n