Day 7

I wrote this two months ago when I returned to work. I haven't edited it. 

I do not share it with the intentions of shaming others. Posting this now is not about acknowledgement for me.
I share it to demonstrate the fact that the loss of unborn life is not talked about. Because of that, people don't know what to do or say. I cannot and do not fault others for that.
I share so that WE all might love those who are hurting better. 

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07/14/2015

I went back to work today. I woke up so scared; scared of what people would say that might make me uncomfortable, things that parents would say that would unknowingly make me ache, holding and caring for other people’s babies, and remembering the panic I felt as I left there 6 days ago. Today would have been our first doctor’s appointment; I had eagerly waited for this date since we made the appointment on May 28. Now, I dread this day.

I prayed on my way there for courage, strength, and grace. I was shaking as I walked to my desk. I sat down with everything exactly as I had left it 6 days ago and I felt utter panic, unsure I could do this day.

I had been so scared about what people would say to me, I never thought about them not saying anything.

People were walking and talking around me and not meeting my eye as if they were scared of me, like they could catch what I have: heartache. Acting as if nothing happened makes me ache the most; to not address the fact that I lost a child.

People don’t know what to say; they don’t want to say something that pains me or makes me sadder. But the real truth is that the sadness doesn’t go away and there isn’t a larger category. It isn’t as if you are going to “remind me”, it doesn’t leave me. It is all I think about. The answer is not to ignore this huge, cataclysmic event that has immensely changed our life and me. Acknowledge our loss; acknowledge our baby. Let me feel something, let me be sad. Don’t be so scared of feeling uncomfortable yourself that you do nothing.

In all my worrying about what people would say, I didn’t realize how much it meant for them to say something. If you don’t have words, say that. If nothing else, tell me, show me, that you are sorry for my loss.

I went to work prepared to graciously accept acts of comfort and love. I found that I had to initiate it. I know that my coworkers love me. I know that their silence was not out of lack of concern or sympathy, but rather an attempt to not increase or highlight my pain. But it made me feel so… alone.

As soon as I was overwhelmed with the feeling of being alone and anger for lack of comfort, I received constant texts from people checking in on me and praying for me and encouraging me. God didn’t leave me there.

I realized today how little this is talked about and it makes me want to scream. A life is not something to be ignored. A baby is to be loved and celebrated, and when lost, a baby is to be mourned, regardless of age. If you know about it, tell me you are sorry for our loss. If you don’t know about it, I’m not afraid to tell you. (Well, that’s a lie.) But, why?

Why do we shove the joy they brought us under the rug? Why do we hide our grief and act as if we don’t feel like we are dying ourselves? Why are we ashamed? Why are we so scared of people who are hurting? Besides the obvious fact that these words break my heart... Why is it so hard for us to say:

I am mom. I lost my baby. I am still a mom. I have one child. My child is with Jesus.