Welcome to the Blue Butterfly Blog

Thousands of families suffer in silence from the loss of a pregnancy or an infant. My struggle is just beginning. I carried twins to term knowing that only one would survive. This is the story of my journey through shock, devastation, grief, anger, and hopefully someday acceptance. I know that other families are desperate to know that they are not suffering alone. This is for them.

Monday, January 2, 2012

My Baby is Next

Looking back at Christmas and Hannukah, I tried to figure out how I coped. What was my defense mechanism? Partly, I remembered what Brad told me - don't let Spyder hear you say really sad things. Yes, I know the little guy doesn't know what I'm saying, but this does help. Also, I somehow numbed myself to what was going on around me. I numbed myself so much that when my uncle called and told my mother that on Christmas Eve their mother had died, I felt nothing.

Maybe I did feel ... maybe I felt anger. My grandmother was 79 years old and she had been very, very ill. For her, death was the next step in life. My son won't get 79 years, not even 79 days or 79 hours. He might get 79 minutes, but more likely 79 seconds.

Of course, I was sad for my family that mourns her. I knew this would come, and I suppose I was prepared. But, it was an awakening to see my grandfather and my little cousin crying over our Nana.

We went last Thursday in snowy Cleveland for her funeral. I had been thinking, but hadn't vocalized until the car ride over, that the next funeral we'd be attending would be Spyder's.  I had thought I'd be fine...

While greeting and catching up with family I hadn't seen in a decade at the funeral home, I heard the priest speaking to my grandfather about the loss of their infant daughter, Susan. The priest simply said, "now she has someone to hold her." That's when I lost control.

My dad got me to the car before I broke down. We sat together, me sobbing and trying not to vomit, and him listening helplessly. I just kept saying "my baby, my baby's next, this isn't fair," over and over again. We missed the whole service. I missed the graveside service, too, sitting in the car while everyone else said their final goodbyes.

According to my mom, everyone understood why I disappeared. She told me that they said I was brave for trying to attend the funeral. Really, I was embarrassed, but there was no way I could have gone back into that funeral home.

I haven't felt right since. I just keep thinking about how Spyder's funeral is likely the next one I'll be at. What will it be like? Who will be there? How will I cope? When will it be? I am so scared of so many things right now and losing him tops the list.

1 comment:

  1. Dear Lindsay,
    Your strength moves me. You are a very brave mom. I understand how you feel about your grandmother's death, it has nothing to do with love and loss.. you are dealing with life as best you know how and you are being very pragmatic. Your grandma did live a long and hopefully rewarding life, and it is tremendously unfair for Spyder. Having lost a child myself, I can tell you its a hard road..I wish it wasn't. You are exceptional in that you are writing and sharing... please keep up the writing for us and yourself. Much love... Liz (a friend of your mom's)