Remnants of loss….

I’ve been reading An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination by Elizabeth McCracken, and she so perfectly describes life after the loss of a child; not the tied up pretty kind of sentimental things people want to hear, but the dark and ugly, honest stuff. I completely related to one portion I was reading tonight in which she talked about how “when tragedy has struck you dumb, you should be given a stack of cards that explain it for you”. The author uses the example of her card saying “My first child was stillborn.” She goes on to explain how much easier this would be both for her and other people, how she’d like for people to know, but it’s hard to say and it’s hard for them to hear, but maybe not so difficult to read. I can’t stop thinking about how lovely something like this would be. I can’t tell you how often social situations can be uncomfortable when people don’t know what happened and how much easier it would be if they did. She explains that even now after she’s had a second child, a healthy beautiful boy, she still doesn’t know how to answer the question, “is this your first child?”

Talking with another BLM tonight, I realized it’s part of the package for all of us, but none of us knows how exactly to handle these situations, these questions and conversation starters that appear so normal and commonplace to the rest of the world but are landmines to those who have lost their babies. Now when we attend parties, I avoid those with babies and tense when women start discussing their children or pregnancy because I know, inevitably, if I don’t somehow excuse myself from the group, the questions will come my way and it’s such an impossible answer to give. Do I answer honestly, thus making the rest of the group uncomfortable, or do I deny my daughter by answering no, thus leaving me with a sense of guilt and sadness.

I wanted to share an excellent article written from the male perspective on loss. Sadly, there were many parts of his story that were eerily familiar; I continue to be surprised at how much sadness exists in this world and thankful that somehow there is still hope.

With all the sadness and uncertainty that I continue to be reminded of in this world, I try to accept that there are many things which are out of my control. As the Serenity Prayer so perfectly says, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.”