*To my fellow loss mamas, please know I believe all opinions and emotions are valid. They reflect our individual experiences and where we are in our grief journey. This entry is my perspective alone. *
A little over a month after Drew died, I attended my daughter’s play with my husband and son. Seated in the row in front of us was a family with a newborn baby. I averted my eyes. I did this because I was not in a place where I could look at small babies yet. It was too familiar. It hurt too much.
I really had no problem until intermission. Not realizing the baby was right in front of me, I looked up. When I saw that baby, something strange happened which I had never experienced before. Without thought or the least bit of reflection I started to sob. Guttural sobs. The kind that move your whole body. I put one hand over my face, a fist in my mouth, and dropped my head low. I was praying no one could see or hear. Sounds were coming out, but between the fist and the conversation of the crowd, no one noticed. I couldn’t look up or I’d be found out.
I was frantic. I had to get out. I could not be in the room a second more. I couldn’t leave though. This was my daughter’s first performance in a new theater program. I had been so excited about this. I was so proud of her. How could this be happening? I was starting to hyperventilate. At this point my family realized something was wrong. My husband handed me a handkerchief and I was slowly able to compose myself. Intermission couldn’t be over soon enough. I just kept my head down until the lights were lowered. I survived.
Even today, all these months later I struggle with newborn babies. Last week, I saw a beautiful baby girl. My eyes lit up and I said, “aww!!” As I looked her over, I noticed her tiny hand. I felt an awful feeling in my chest. I turned and walked away to avoid another episode. I know better now.
Not a single pregnant woman passes by without a moment of sadness followed by a prayer for their baby. No social media pregnancy or birth announcement is seen without an emotional response varying with the mood of the day. I could go into victim mode, but I refuse to. Sure, I have thoughts such as, “They have no idea how blessed they are.” Or “That should be me.” But it is what it is.
As frustrated as I sometimes get when people blow up my feed with pregnancy posts in their ignorant bliss, I am ultimately happy for them. I am so thankful that the woman making those posts is not aware of how good she has it. I am thankful she doesn’t think it will happen to her. That means she has not held a dead baby in her arms. Praise God for that. No one should have to.
I know my limits most of the time. I force myself to live in the real world, avoiding personal social media on days I don’t think I can handle it. I’m not sure if my thoughts will change someday, but regardless I must exist in society as long as I’m breathing. I might as well get used to it.
We have to OWN our triggers, loss related or otherwise. It is no one’s job to keep me happy. I cannot be upset at people for simply living or sharing their lives. If I had a living newborn, you better believe I’d be showing off all the pictures. Babies are such an incredible blessing, and each moment ought to be savored. I would never expect someone to bottle their bliss simply because I experienced something tragic.
So, share all the pictures. Tell me how exhausted you are for being up with your baby all night. Give me the complaints. Give me the joys. I’m so happy for you. Just know if I see you with your baby and walk the other way, it’s because I know my limits and I don’t want to steal your joy.
