The last couple of months have been incredibly challenging. After the due date for our child passed, our sadness accumulated to the point of boiling over. There is an unthinkable feeling of emptiness combined with the question of whether we could have done anything to save her. We question ourselves every day as to what went wrong, what we may or may not have done correctly, and where do we go from here?
Our first instinct was to make someone pay for this. How could such a thing happen, especially in this day of modern medicine? We talked to people about it, but the reaction was not exactly what we were expecting. Surprisingly, people did not want to talk to us about it, pushing it off as any other tragedy in life. “Have you talked to a professional?,” was the most common question people asked us, as if talking to a professional would make us feel any more complete. I’m sure they just wanted us to feel better, but the problem is there isn’t anything that is going to make us feel better, certainly not something a professional (a.k.a. ‘stranger’) could change.
We were met with a mix of positivity and negativity from our family and friends, but were most surprised with the general indifference people had toward our loss. Sure, we were now part of the small group of people who have lost two babies in a single year, but that doesn’t make our losses any less impacting. They say that in the spectrum of tragedy, losing a child is a greater tragedy than all others. This I believe.
So we spend each day thankful that we still have each other, and hoping that the future will bring peace and love to our family. My wife is still the mother of our children, and I treat her as such. I see the sadness in her eyes, and it is all I can do to bring a smile to her face every day. I try to be a positive influence despite the way I feel. Sure, I am hurting just as anyone else would, but I dedicated to helping My Celiac Wife through this challenge and any other challenge that presents itself for the rest of time.