When Ambree was a few months old while shopping at Sam's Club a middle aged couple approached me, admiring Ambree. I am always uneasy as strangers approach and engage in conversation centered around Ambree.
It makes me anxious as I know that infamous question "Is she your
only?" will follow. As you may already know, I vowed to always
acknowledge Larissa and recognize her as a part of our family. So, with
some hesitation I told these strangers that Ambree
is our second as we lost our firstborn at birth. I only hesitate as
death is an uncomfortable topic and infant death is truly taboo.
However, this couple began to spill their hearts out to me as
well noting that they have several grandchildren but that their son and
daughter in-law were expecting a very special bundle. They too, lost
their firstborn as he was born prematurely and fought for his little
life for in excess of thirty days. The tears streamed down these
strangers faces as they shared their story in the otherwise empty aisle
of Sam's Club. I felt their pain...truly felt their pain and unlike
those whom have not walked in our shoes I didn't gape at these strangers with horror thinking "I can't even imagine." I know all too well the pain this couple has endured.
It's an incomprehensible pain to lose a child. Those whom have never
endured such pain feel maybe in my situation its a little less painful
as we never brought Larissa home. However, she's our baby. A lifetime
of dreams and milestones for our little girl were taken away as we sadly
had to say goodbye. And I know I'm not alone. All too often on the
daily news you hear of a baby or child taken much too soon from this
life in a fire and/or accident. I watch
those stories as the journalist interviews family members and all I
think is "I feel your pain." Sometimes people complain about aging
and/or old age and my friend recently shared a quote with me, which
basically stated to not complain about aging as it is a privilege denied
to many. That's so very true. Larissa never even took a breath
outside of the womb. She never got to enjoy life. Nothing...she got
nothing. And sadly, I am not alone as many of you reading this post
know firsthand the pain of losing a child and we are not alone...
Your words ring so loud.
ReplyDeleteWe lost our first son, Thomas. He was stillborn on 31 August 2010 at 20 weeks gestation due to a placental abruption.
We welcomed our second son, Nio, on 11 October 2012 at 36w6d with a planned caesarian.
As you always include Larissa, we always include Thomas.
Thank you for your blog. It helps to know you're not alone (even when you know you're not). xx