Questions

Kids can say the funniest things sometimes. And sometimes, they are not so funny.

My oldest son, Zach, has been asking lots of questions about our baby girl, Alaina, that died about 5 yrs ago. He swings from joy and eagerness in getting to meet her in heaven, to tears and sadness about not getting to see her while she was here on earth. He's been talking so much about her, that our third child, Nathaniel, has started to get in on it.

Nathaniel has been asking questions about Alaina, about heaven and about Jesus. They even insisted on going to see the stone and place where she is buried, so we took them to visit a few weeks back. I wondered if Zach would get teary-eyed, but he didn't. He just looked at the stone and then stated that he was glad she was with Jesus and that Jesus was taking care of her. We've been having interesting conversations, to say the least :) And Nathaniel likes to talk...

To everybody.

Which means I've found myself in a few awkward positions lately.

A few weeks ago, we visited a new church, and in the middle of Sunday School, Nathaniel started telling the teacher that he had a baby sister, but she died, and was now up in heaven. At first the teacher just smiled and said, Okay, but Nathaniel insisted on repeating the information to the teacher, and a look of realization what he was saying, because she just looked at me with this funny look on her face. She didn't ask me anything, but I told her that yes, I had a baby girl that died 5 yrs ago, and Nathaniel has taken a lot of interest in the subject lately. and then as if nothing happened, she went back to teaching the class.

But I must admit, I felt embarrassed when Nathaniel brought her up. Embarrassed that a stranger should know something so private and deep, that I had to explain my son's ramblings, and ashamed that I was one of those people.

You know, one of those people that has experienced a loss, and was changed forever.

Sometimes it feels like there are 3 groups of women in the world: those who have never had children, those who have had babies and everything went fine, and those who had babies and the babies died.

It's an interesting place to be in, because for a while afterwards, people tend to treat you like a leper. They don't know what to say, so they don't say anything. And since they have nothing to say to you, then they just avoid you. Our culture does not know how to handle loss gracefully. And then you start to wonder if your feelings are valid, especially when people talk about how God uses all things for good, and your baby is in a better place. Those statements don't validate your pain, your loss, your grief.

Which is why I started to wonder, Why do I feel embarrassed?

Yes, I lost a baby. More than one, actually.

And it was devastating and incredibly painful.

But I did nothing wrong.

It wasn't MY choice for my babies to die.

And it's not my fault that others don't know how to handle this kind of information.

But my response IS my choice.

Perhaps I should help them, inform them, and educate people on how to support people like me, how to walk with us on our journey of grief.