I’ve been lucky, this first year of being a baby loss mom people said very few stupid things to me. Just one, “everything happens for a reason” (Grrr!) and one, “oh you’ll have more kids” (Aarrgh!). So I can count the amount of stupid on two fingers, until last week, when someone said not one, but TWO things to me that irked:
“When do you think you’re going to heal from this? You’re still so emotional about it.”
First, I was not being overly emotional about it. I wasn’t crying, or sniffling, or spacing, or anything. I mention my daughter, I mention my birthing experience, I mention my loss, when it’s relevant to the conversation. In this case, my high-risk obstetrician happened to be on my unit, and I saw him and told him thank you for his compassion when he treated me. So yeah, totally relevant time to be bringing up my loss and my experience. Also? No one is overly-emotional about the death of their child. We have a right to be as emotional as possible until the day we die. This statement was the equivalent of, “when are you going to get over it?” Answer? NEVER.
“But you didn’t even know her.”
This person obviously doesn’t have children. The connection between mother and child is not something that is dependent upon shared experiences and knowledge of personality, likes, dislikes, etc. She’s right, I didn’t know her, who she would be come, what she would have wanted to do in her life. I hate that I didn’t know her. But I was her mother, I knew her. I knew her better than anyone, and all she knew was me. It would’ve been harder had I carried her to term, it would’ve been much harder for me had she been a 3-week-old, a two-year-old, a twenty-year-old. The more you “know” someone, the more you have to miss about them, possibly, but that doesn’t mean you hurt less. Personally, if I had miscarried at 8 weeks, it would’ve been a loss, but not the loss that it was after feeling her kicks, watching her rub her forehead on an ultrasound, and holding her lifeless body in my arms. I will never know what I missed with her, exactly, but oh I know that I miss something, and someone, wonderful. A whole person who was a part of me and always will be.
Thanks for letting me vent!
Categories: baby loss