Shrugging Off Comments

I don't know why some people say the things they do, especially when it comes to loss they know nothing about. I truly believe no one I've encountered means to be malicious. Some people just struggle with understanding that it's okay to say nothing, rather than offer potentially rude or hurtful statements. Today I had two such experiences with strangers.

While getting my teeth cleaned and x-rayed for the first time in two years, (I won't go into the embarrassing cavity details) the dental hygienist followed through with the usual routine of asking questions while flossing or scraping my teeth. (It always confuses me why they choose to make conversation at the most inopportune times. Anyway . . . ) Seeing that I'm pregnant, she asked the same questions I've received regularly over the past couple months from strangers. "When are you due? Do you know what you're having? Is this your first?" etc. I usually don't offer up information about Ty's death unless the conversation leads there, and even then it's often just in quick passing. But Ty is always accounted for, and I'm honest if I have to admit he passed away. Most people apologize, while I shrug with a smile and say, "It's really okay." Today, the hygienist engaged in the conversation about children and death. At one point, she said something like, "I guess it's probably better to lose a baby than an older child because then there are less birthdays, anniversaries, and memories . . . " At the time, my mouth was stretched open and my teeth were being prodded, so I didn't offer my response. But in my head, I was thinking, "Oh, really? You try it for one day." When I told Dan, I wish I had used his sarcasm when he said, "Yeah. It's WAY better not to have any of those memories."

What bothered me most was not disputing whether her statement was true or not. I've often wondered that myself if it would be harder losing a child who had been with us even years longer. But it's just irritating that some people don't think to censor themselves before speaking about matters they have little to no experience in.

Later that day, I went to Kinkos to laminate some wallet-sized pictures of Ty. The employee asked questions about him and when I mentioned SIDS, she quickly asked, "So was he in his crib then? Oh, that's why I always let my children sleep on my chest", insinuating that me putting him in his crib contributed to his death.

 It's a good thing I'm in a healthy place these days, and don't mind talking to people about Ty. I've been fortunate not to run into this too many times this past year. And I know these kind of statements and conversations are avoidable. All I have to do is not talk about Ty. But right now, I can't bring myself to say, "Yes, this is my first" because she's not. She has an older brother, and I don't want to discount him for the sake of preventing awkward or rude conversations. It's my choice and I bring it on myself, I guess. Some days I just need to laugh and understand that it comes with the territory. (Any of you reading this blog entry can remove yourself from any doubt that you have had any part in this. All my friends and family are awesome!)

I've been emailing back and forth with a mom who lost her 4 1/2 month-old son one day before Ty's one-year anniversary of his death. It's uncanny how similar some of our experiences have been. I want to respect her privacy by not sharing details. But it's been an interesting experience for me to write her about my grief and healing milestones as she's asked questions. It makes me happy that my ability to relate to her can bring her some comfort, just like a couple "SIDS mothers" have been to me in my life. It's different stepping into a role where I'm, in a sense, ahead of the grieving game. I think it's good for me to realize how far I've come, yet being so aware of the raw hurt and pain that comes with the early stages of losing a baby and trying to help.

I researched a support group for parents that have lost children. It used to be only a SIDS group, but over the last few years, has branched out to include loss of children of all ages. I meant to find this resource for this mother I've been emailing, but while speaking to the coordinator over the phone, somehow got roped into attending for at least the month of April every Monday evening. I went today for the first time, even though I feel pretty good these days and don't feel like I need it really. But I'm glad I went. I was able to hear stories of mothers who, in the past three months to two years, have lost children to accidents, drug-overdose . . . everyone's story is different and heartbreaking, yet the emotions in the room were very much the same.

Fear was a common theme tonight. While I mostly listened and observed, I did contribute to this discussion. I've been scared about losing another baby to SIDS or some other ailment in the first year. But hearing the deaths of these children, ranging from ages 6-25, I'm reminded that no age is safe. Anything can happen to anyone when you least expect it, no matter how old the child is. At first, this fueled my fear and was not helpful. But we talked about how we can't let fear destroy motherhood and just need to appreciate every day and think positively. As always, it will be a work in progress. I'm glad I went tonight, though. Life has been getting busy again and there's been a lot of excitement for this new baby. But I still need to remember to "slow down" enough for healing to continue. That includes taking moments to sit still, search my emotions, and give them a chance to be released. Sometimes, slowing down takes effort, as I've learned in the past. But it's necessary and I need to remember to make time for it, even when I do think I'm doing just fine.