Musings

I follow several Facebook pages that relate to loss...loss of pregnancy, loss of children, loss of children to cancer.  I do this not to wallow in sadness and despair, but to remind myself that I am not the only one that feels this way after losing children, and that it is perfectly normal.  What I've seen a lot of lately, on many of these pages, is posts about awkwardness...how once you lose a child it become awkward to talk about them, or that it makes others uncomfortable, or that people never expect the answer to "How many children do you have?" to include children who have died.

Reading these posts and articles has led me to reflect on my own experiences.  After we lost Brady, we had much support in the early days, but that support dwindled quickly.  People very quickly got back to their lives, as we struggled to get back to ours.  After that initial period after his loss, it often became uncomfortable to talk about Brady to anyone except our closest friends and family.  We had no children at home, and I did always dread the "Do you have any children?" question.  I hate to make people feel uncomfortable, sad or awkward, but I also hate not to acknowledge that yes, in fact, I do have a child...he just doesn't happen to be here with us.

After losing Henry, the experience was different.  We continue to have incredible support, and I have people in all facets of my life who allow me to talk about Henry without feeling uncomfortable.  Even the "Do you have any children?" question is a little easier to answer.

These different experiences illustrate the fact that in our society we are uncomfortable talking about loss, but especially loss of pregnancy.  So many people don't understand that although Brady was "born into heaven," he was still born.  Even a baby who is miscarried is often already loved, dreamed of, and wanted.  These losses, although different than the loss of a child, are not easier.  When you lose a child during pregnancy, you lose all of the hopes and dreams you have for that baby.  And in some ways, it is harder because people are more uncomfortable talking about it.  No one else got to see or hold Brady, so it was harder for people to connect and understand.  Everyone knew Henry, and so many people got to meet him, that his loss was more real (not for us, but others.)

That is one thing I hope that people will gain from reading some of my writings...that the loss of a child at ANY stage is devastating, and is not something one simply "gets over."  The loss of Brady was just as devastating as the loss of Henry...different, true, but devastating nonetheless.  Whether you carry a baby for days, weeks, months, years...inside your body or out...that is still your baby and your love is no less regardless of the time you have.  So the next time you hear of someone losing a baby during pregnancy, don't be afraid to ask them about their baby...because that a baby is what they lost.  And don't be afraid to ask someone who lost an adult child to tell you about their child...bringing up the name of a child who has died does not make the loss worse...rather it validates the love that we hold for our children that are no longer here.