It is so difficult the first couple of months after a loss running into all kinds of people who ask," How's the baby?" or "Where's the baby?" These are the people who either knew you were pregnant and had not heard about the tragic day, or the people who are reaching out to you after that day. And then, inevitably, come the tears and the "I'm sorry to tell you that we lost her, she died." Then the inevitable look of horror on their face," I don't know what to say, oh my god!"
It's amazing to me the responses I have received after the horror stricken look becomes worry and confusion...Sometimes people say, "I'm sorry." Quite simply, the best response. But, sometimes, people say the strangest things, "I can't imagine what you are going through right now...Some things are meant to be..."
It is amazing how you really see people for the first time after a terrible, horrible thing going though losing a baby.
friends become strangers, strangers become friends...
I don't know why the response "I can't imagine what you are going through right now," bugs me, is it because that's what I would say, before I had my loss? Or is it a touch self-rightous to say that? The fact that babies can and do die, the fact that we all die, can't you imagine the possibility of that? I can imagine the possibility, because I have been through it, babies die.
Sometimes for no reason.
NOT meant to be.
Even after Jolene died, I always thought of her as a beautiful manifestation of life, what a beauitful, happy baby bouncing in my belly. And that's what bothers me the most now is that when I see those people, that is who I am to them, that is who my little girl is, "The dead baby mama, the dead baby."
I miss you little one, my sweet baby, Jolene.
1 year ago