I go about my life... working, hanging out with friends, and generally doing what I feel has to be done. And it seems to be convincing. Everyone seems to think I'm fine. No one asks how I'm really doing any more and when I bring up Colden or sadness or pain, the subject gets changed pretty darn quick. The list of people who I've decided to remain silent around, at least about the main thoughts that course through my mind, grows steadily.
Do they really think I'm over it? Or, has it gotten that uncomfortable to talk with me? I don't feel like a huge downer. I can carry on conversations about every day subjects and laugh plenty these days. I work hard. I socialize. I'm not looking for someone to talk with all day about my dead baby or future hoped-for pregnancies filled with anxiety and fear, but I resent the total silence from most of my friends and family.
I sometimes think about it when I am out and about. I'm walking down the boardwalk at the Jersey shore dressed in work out clothes, and I'm passing many people who look very similar to me and some with obviously different lives. I wonder if they think about how I got there and what's going on with me. I certainly think about them and what their stories might be. Which person has lost someone they love? Which one is unemployed? Has a sick family member? Lost their baby? They don't really look like it either.
I want to tell them
9 years ago
This is a really interesting post. Yeah, I've thought the same thing. What's isolating is that truthfully, I think in the end we all live inside our mental universes, and nobody can really climb inside and totally get what we've gone through - and visa versa. I have those same moments, when I'm just suddenly aware of my identity and presence as a dm momma in a crowd of people. I look around and wish there was just one woman who would come up to me knowingly and say: "You're a DM momma - i can tell by your look. I get that - I'm one too."
ReplyDeleteA secret handshake would be nice.
i feel that resentment often too. so I try to be more careful and compassionate now.
ReplyDeleteLike, if someone mentions two kids, I don't say "oh, so you've got just the two?" cause maybe they lost one. and I wouldn't want to back them into the corner where they have to (due to 'politeness') deny their child. I just assume I am only going to hear about two.
i am down with the secret handshake idea.
the secret handshake, i had that idea a while back too. let's invent it, for good measure, how about folding in the pinky finger? Shaking hands with the pinky finger folded in. It's the baby finger of the hand that's missing... how appropriate. I'm gonna try that, I'd say its not that easy to remember when the next occasion of a handshake arrises, but it's gonna be a little fun and I'll try! And it will make us laugh in secret when it happens and then we'll be laughing for out babies. How wonderful!!
ReplyDeleteAre you ok with that? the pinky finger folded in at the first joint while you shake the right and with someone else. s**t I don't have John here to try it out, see if it works. Can you?
Much love to you
xx Ines
there needs to be an edit button on the comments, I don't like typos... it's our babies!! and a few more not as critical...
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry that most of the people around you are silent on the subjects that really matter. It's tough.
ReplyDeleteI wonder about all those people walking past me on the street too. I can't help but wonder.
xx
It's both you know. They're uncomfortable AND they think you've gotten "over" it. Because they really think that it's possible to get "over" your baby's death. Only other baby-lost parents know that you'll never get over it. And because they see you functioning "normally", it supports their belief that you're "better" now.
ReplyDeleteSecret handshake would be good. Or like Tash said that we should have t-shirts made up that say, "My baby died." Wouldn't that help in so many situations?
ReplyDeleteI don't think people think anything beyond their own nose in terms of talking about Colden and loss in general. The range of their conversational skills are "Uh, that sucks. I'm sorry." And so they avoid. Their insights on the matter have been spent, and that is what they think we want. Insight. I wish people were more compassionate and could just listen, but I just don't think they are well-equipped.
XO
I wonder about randoms on the street, too. And I like what Monica said. That it would be good if people just recognised us because we have a certain look. I am sure I have a look, I know I can certainly tell when I look in the mirror.
ReplyDeleteAnd like everyone, I wish people could be more present in your life. I wish that for all of us, as it seems to be a recurring theme in this sad little community.
Much love Molly.
A secret handshake, a t-shirt, something, ANYTHING that keeps me from wanting to shout "my babies died" when someone from long ago oh so innocently asks, "hey! It's been a long time - how are you? what's new?"
ReplyDeleteThis is a great post. I seem to be fixated on other people and their secret stories these days (perhaps to keep from fixating on mine?) We cannot be the only ones that carry this burden of grief around with us every single day. We just can't. I wonder what other heartaches people are holding as they try to get through their days.
I wonder if you compared a picture of me today from one before the girls were gone - would it look different? How? I certainly feel changed. That has to show, right?
I am so sorry for the silence that surrounds the absence of Colden. I think Angie nailed it - most people are uncomfortable in roles of simply listening or being present; If they can't fix it, they would rather just avoid. Yes, a handshake, a wink and a nudge certainly wouldn't hurt.
A t-shirt, a specific color combination, a handshake - any or all of these would be helpful. I've been trained so well to cover up sadness and heartache when in public, and I expect others have been, too. I smile and chatter and get things done and then I go home and hide until I have the energy to do it again.
ReplyDeleteah this post hits home today. I'd like a tshirt somedays. Some acknowledgement of grief. What happened to wearing black for a year of mourning? Can we re-institute mourning traditions of the past so that others never forget what is always present in our hearts and minds?
ReplyDeletei always fixate on the secret stories too and wonder if people can tell i've been through hell and back. well, not completely back yet.
ReplyDeletethe denial of what happened is what gets to me most- like when someone asks about kids and i just say no b/c its too much to get into at that moment. do you have those much? i hate the denial, but sometimes its easier.
thats when the tshirt would help. but yeah, sometimes i wish i could pick out the other people in a crowd who have lost their babies like all of us.
xo lots of love molly