Day 6 is “what not to say.” Bleh. I hate that there are so many crappy things that have been said to so many people with already broken hearts. Thankfully, there haven’t been a ton of stupid comments made to me, but the ones I have had – Yuck.
One that I probably hate the most is, “God just needed another flower for His garden.” Okay. Stop. What?! Are you flipping kidding me?! The God that I know values the life of MY child (and every single other child) higher than that of a FLOWER! I know that people just say things out of shock and ignorance, but gross. This one makes my stomach turn and my blood boil.
Possibly tied though, was “You’re lucky, there was probably something wrong with her.” Did those words seriously just come out of your mouth? Lucky?! You can’t be serious. How is anyone lucky when their beloved child dies? How am I lucky that I gave birth to a much loved and much wanted baby who never took a single breath? Here’s how it really is, I love her. I love her unconditionally. If there had been something “wrong” with her, I would love her the same. Yes, I know that raising a child with special needs would change some aspects of our life, but I certainly would rather have her here than not. No matter what. And by the way, it was a CORD ACCIDENT. There was NOTHING wrong with her. But thanks anyway.
“You’re so strong, I could never handle something so terrible.” Well, thank you ever so much for the compliment? I’m incredibly flattered that you think that I’m somehow chosen or worthy to have lost my child because of my strength. Yes, I’ll accept that I’m strong. Somehow. Because I haven’t completely crumbled under the pressure of such a terrible loss. But there are days, those days that are dark and lonely, sad and confused, angry and inconsolable. On those days, I’m not strong, and all I want to do is cry and hide. But when it’s your life, you figure out how to survive. It’s not my strength, but borrowed strength from prayers and love that have gotten me this far.
“At least you didn’t get to know her.” The problem with this statement is that I did know her, at least some. Granted, it wasn’t as well as I would have known her if she had lived 10 years, 10 days, or even 10 minutes, but I knew her. She lived in my womb. She had a personality. And we planned our life with her. She was a family member. She IS a family member.
“You’re young, you’ll have more kids.” I found this grating, but not particularly awful. People that I love said this to me, and meant it with nothing but the best of intentions. It did, however prove that they didn’t quite completely ‘get it.’ I did want more kids, yes. But more than my next breath, I wanted HER.
There were other statements. But these are the ones that have particularly stuck with me. Thankfully, I have had infinitely more comforting and loving comments than ignorant and inconsiderate.
Hoping each of you have had gentle, sweet, and loving comments!