I had the priviledge of spending a few hours shopping with my mom today. You see, my mom is not just any mom. She is my best friend. Spending time with her is such a treat, no matter how often I get the chance. Of course it's easy to think about how Avery should have accompanied us today on our outing, but at least she was there in our conversations and in our hearts. That is something I love so deeply about my mom. She loves Avery as if she were her own child. Honestly, she is one of the few people besides Daniel who still seems affected by Avery's absence. And that brings me to what I have been thinking about... something my mom and I talked about today.
Some people just don't get it. That probably sounds mean or uncaring, but it's just the general truth. Maybe some think someone like me should have "moved on" by now. Many people probably compare my situation to be the same as a miscarriage. Not to downplay the devastation of a miscarriage, but what I went through is not the same at all. To have your baby die in your womb and then have to go through labor and deliver that baby, and see and hold that baby, and pick out a casket and bury that baby... It's much more extensive, to be honest. People may want to say that I never got to know my baby... so how could I be so upset about losing her? I know everyone is different. Some mom's don't truly bond with their babies until birth, and that's okay. But in my case, I have loved Avery since before she was conceived. I wrote letters to her before I was even pregnant with her. That's how much she was wanted! It doesn't matter if I only knew her in my womb, she is my child! My flesh and blood! And when she came out, she had Daniel's face! I love her as if she's been by my side my whole life.
Someone who loses a baby isn't just "not pregnant" anymore. Whether it's a miscarriage, stillbirth, or early infant death, it's the loss of so much more than people may realize. It's the loss of a lifetime of memories and joy with that child. A line from a Lifehouse song comes to mind: "I miss the years that were erased..." It's the constant realization of all the things they will never do... and all the things you'll never do with them. It's seeing so many women around you having everything you want, some ungrateful... just to add insult to injury, it would seem. It's all the unworn, still-tagged baby clothes hanging in the closet, in a bedroom kind of frozen in time. It's all the dates that are hard to face: first, the weekly "I should be ___ weeks pregnant today but I'm not," the due date, the anniversary of the day you found out you were pregnant, etc. It's the holidays and special days without your baby, feeling so consumed with their absence, knowing they should be there. It's all the pictures you can't take. It's the little toes you can't tickle and the chubby belly you can't kiss. It's the first teeth and the first steps and the first words that won't ever happen. The list goes on... It's so much more than being "unpregnant" and just "getting over it" or just "having another one."
I can't speak for every mother who has lost a baby, but I would rather those around me acknowledge Avery and even the fact that she's gone. I'd love to know she's missed. To bring her up wouldn't make me sad. It's not like I forgot my baby died and you reminded me! I enjoy talking about Avery. I feel like it keeps part of her alive. I'd rather people be more concerned about how my heart is healing over the loss of my daughter, than how my health is after my gallbladder surgery in May. I don't want people to pretend everything is normal. Because it isn't. I've lost my baby. And you don't "get over" that. It is not a "this too shall pass" situation.
Don't be afraid to talk to me, to ask me questions, to ask me how I'm doing and mean it. I know some people have been curious about certain things concerning Avery and I have encouraged them to ask. As long as you approach it in love and not ignorance, and it's a legitmate, caring question, there's no way you could say something wrong. And no one is expected to say the perfect thing. I know most people around me have no idea what this is like and I like it that way. I do not expect anyone to have some profound, healing statement for me. In fact, it's actually worse to attempt one of those. I wish people didn't think they had to try so hard to say something good. All you need is, "I'm sorry... I don't know what to say... But I am here for you..." To hear you're thinking about me and I'm in your prayers... It really means a lot! Just understand that I have my good days and my bad days. Sometimes I'm laughing and sometimes I'm really down. I have moments where I am angry and some where I seem out of character (like maybe now?). Don't try to convince me that I need to move on or get over it. Don't tell me I need to be positive when I'm having a dark day. Don't expect that there's a time limit for grief. Don't make me feel like my child is any less of a child because she never took a breath on this earth. Please don't let me feel like Avery has been forgotten. And please don't forget that I am a Mom, even though my baby is no longer here. No matter how optimistic I may appear, I'm still hurting so deeply and missing my baby girl every single second of every single day.
PS I apologize if any of this post was harsh. I wasn't really sure where this post was going when I started it, but I guess I have a few feelings pent up from over these last four months. None of this was out of anger or bitterness. Maybe I just want to help others understand without walking in these awful shoes?
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8 comments:
Hi Nicole, I agree with you, grief is not something I would wish on anyone! This is hard work, the hardest. It bothers me so much that people do not recognize the loss of a baby as the loss of a child. I went to the doctor(not my OB, my GP)two weeks after Eli was born and he kept talking about my miscarriage. I wanted to scream. Others have also said the meanest things thinking they were "helping". It is hard to overlook those comments, but I know we have too because the just do not get it. Like you, I am glad they do not get it because that would mean they too had experienced a loss. Your post was not harsh, just true. I am glad to meet you and Miss Avery, but wish it was under different circumstances. The greatest thing we can do is pray for each other, and I will certainly be praying for you.
I feel exactly the same way. It bothers it when someone says they know exactly how I feel because they had a miscarriage very early in their pregnancy. I'm sure they were really upset, but they didn't feel their baby kicking, they didn't have ultrasound pictures, they didn't find out their baby died, laboured for hours (in my case 18) with their dead baby, hold their baby for the first and last time in the same day and never see that baby move and they didn't have to bury their baby. I do think they understand the loss of the dream thought. I would have been really upset if I had lost him at any time during the pregnancy. They have lost the same dream we lost though and I try to remember that when I really just want to say all of the above to them.
The anniversaries are hard in some way, but they are especially hard.
When we found out I was pregnant, our entire future changed. When I found out we were having a boy, I even started imagining his wife and how I would have to make sure to be close to her so that she wouldn't come between my baby and I. Talk about looking into the future. I see my husband play with my 2 year old nephew now and it breaks my heart. I will never see that with Jacob. Everything my nephew does is and will be a reminder of what we will never do with Jacob.
I don't want Jacob to ever be forgotten by others.....I want him mentioned to me at every anniversary, every holiday. I'm pretty sure I'll be disappointment though. I also want people to recognize me as a Mom so badly. I may not have my child here to take care of, but I took care of him so well while I had the chance and I worry about him and love him just as much as I would if he was still here.
Nothing about your post was harsh...it's just true...and very well put.
Hey Nicole-
I've been reading your blog but never really commented because i really didnt know what to say. Losing my mom to cancer is totally different that losing a child but I do understand the death of a dream and the creation memories that will never be ( like not having her now that im FINALLY pregnant again) Dont let anyone tell you that you should 'be over it' by now, there is no getting over the loss of someone you love, ever, you do learn to live with the loss more but there is no getting over it. My mom has been gone for 5 years now and some days feel like the day it first happened. Everyone grieves differently and there own pace and you are completely entitled to that. We love you guys and i think about you and Avery often.
Thanks for stopping by & following my blog.
I couldn't agree more...I already can't stop thinking about all the what would have beens & I'm dreading the month of October so much. I'm glad you have such a good supportive relationship with your mom.
Amen! To all of it. Not harsh at all, and very well-put. It's so hard because really, unless you've gone through this, you can't possibly understand how painful and horrible it is. I feel so dramatic and emo when I am always saying, "no one understands!!" but it's true. They don't, and they can't.
This is an absolutely brilliant post- it inspired me to write my own thingie on FB telling people to please talk to me, ask me questions they have, whatever. No one knows it like we do, mama. <3
Nicole - I did Avery's name for you and it's in the Rose Garden of names on my blog. You both are in my thoughts often, and I wanted to do something in memory of her.
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