Everything will be OK this time, trust me.
Said a complete stranger, an acquaintance, a relative, a friend, and everyone in between.
You are healthy, so your baby will be ok. I know it!
At this point, if I can, I walk away. I have nothing to say to someone who has a direct line to G-O-D, who can see into the future. Because if they do, why didn't they tell me Amelia was going to die?
Funny thing is, I was absolutely normal and healthy when pregnant with Amelia. There was no reason for concern. We all trusted that everything would be ok, why wouldn't it... But it wasn't.
My doctors don't know why Amelia died, but there is a reason. It can be something rather simple, or something very complicated. It can be anything. Babies are resilient, but fragile. Life is fragile. My OB does not tell me that things will be ok this time around, she just watches me closely and plans on doing more so as Wiggles grows. She also isn't planning on taking any risks, so most likely Wiggles will be born before our Christmas Eve due date.
So that's the truth: We don't know what killed Amelia and we are doing everything we can to prevent the unknown from striking again. Hoping for the best, while remaining realistic. Not optimistic, not pessimistic. Realistic. Babies die, but most live. We don't know the future, and neither do complete strangers, acquaintances, relatives and friends. That's life.
When I hear the things will be fine comment, I feel that people try to diminish what we went through with Amelia, like something was supposed to be wrong with her all along, like her death gives all our future children a safety blanket, like I didn't give birth to a healthy-looking dead baby, like the fact that my reality is different from most other realities out there.
It minimises the real fear I have every minute of every day of this pregnancy, that I will have to survive the death of another baby, my baby. It is not the same fear as people have when bad things happen to others, it's the fear of bad things happening to me while others watch with relief that it isn't them.
So, the best thing to say is: Good Luck.
That's all. Two words.
I love this post, and you are so right. People don't realise that we have the same odds of it happening a second time as we did the first time around. Really low odds, but still a chance.
ReplyDeleteI don't know if you follow this blog at all, but this post is quite similar. Becky the author has lost two babies, and so knows that it can unfortunately happen.
She rights about how she wishes people wouldn't say that they know it will be ok.
http://fortheloveofbabyliam.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/i-just-feel-it.html
Sending lots of love,
Lisa
http://dear-finley.blogspot.com
I too have always hated the 'everything will be ok' line. While I have not lost a baby, and would not dream of understanding how it must feel for you to hear this, I did get it from a few people at a very, very difficult time in my own pregnancy. People think it helps. I think they really say it to make themselves feel better; most people aren't comfortable with the idea of things *not* being ok.
ReplyDeleteI think there needs to be much more acceptance and support of grief in our society. Grief, and the grieving process. I am continually amazed at how few people - health care professionals included - are simply unwilling or unable to deal with it. I think we are very much a society of getting on and getting over grief, and moving on with our lives. And I think this severely invalidates many of us in the midst of very real trauma.
Sending you and Wiggles good thoughts,
Hannah