Over the weekend we sadly welcomed our friends B and J into the club. B was two weeks away from her due date when she stopped feeling the baby move. He was stillborn a week ago today. With few exceptions I have avoided friends with babies and those expecting them for my own selfish reasons, which I think they all understand. So I really didn't know how things were going for them. As her due date approached I kept hoping they'd include me in the email announcing the happy arrival, but I was afraid to call or email to see how they were. Then I opened the paper and saw their beautiful, perfect son with the most touching and heartbreaking description of his life cut short.
At the memorial service, friends were invited at one point to share the hopes and dreams that now would not be fulfilled. A million thoughts jumbled in my head and I knew the chances of me being able to say something both appropriate and coherent were close to zero so I sat and listened and tried to process all those swirling emotions. It all brought back so vividly the pain of losing Will, but also a whole new set of fears for the future.
After a few days, I've completed at least one of the thoughts I was trying to work through on Saturday morning. When B and I were in college, we'd see parents pushing strollers through the Ped Mall and on at least one occasion, one of us was so overwhelmed with yearning that we blurted out "I want a baby!" We knew it was neither the time nor the place for us, but just as certainly, we knew what we hoped for in the future. I'm not sure we ever got as far as envisioning our children together--we ended up taking different paths for a few years and never could have guessed that we'd end up trying to conceive at about the same time. And we certainly never would have believed that our sons would be together...but without us.
So here we all are. In a place we didn't know existed and would not have chosen, but can not escape. We take one day at a time, wondering whether we'll ever see a baby in a stroller and feel hope, not loss.
At the memorial service, friends were invited at one point to share the hopes and dreams that now would not be fulfilled. A million thoughts jumbled in my head and I knew the chances of me being able to say something both appropriate and coherent were close to zero so I sat and listened and tried to process all those swirling emotions. It all brought back so vividly the pain of losing Will, but also a whole new set of fears for the future.
After a few days, I've completed at least one of the thoughts I was trying to work through on Saturday morning. When B and I were in college, we'd see parents pushing strollers through the Ped Mall and on at least one occasion, one of us was so overwhelmed with yearning that we blurted out "I want a baby!" We knew it was neither the time nor the place for us, but just as certainly, we knew what we hoped for in the future. I'm not sure we ever got as far as envisioning our children together--we ended up taking different paths for a few years and never could have guessed that we'd end up trying to conceive at about the same time. And we certainly never would have believed that our sons would be together...but without us.
So here we all are. In a place we didn't know existed and would not have chosen, but can not escape. We take one day at a time, wondering whether we'll ever see a baby in a stroller and feel hope, not loss.
posted by Mary at 9:00 PM
1 Comments:
Mary, I just want to thank you for everything. I come back and read this post every now and then, along with reading about Will and Edward. You have helped me in so many ways and I just want to thank you in that sappy and emotional way that we don't do in person.
Brenda
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