Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket Photobucket

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Wasn't Prepared

Tomorrow will be 7 weeks since Bailey's death...and today is the first day that I had to explain to someone what happened who didn't even know I was pregnant.

You see, I have a customer who I always helped when I was at my first branch, and when I left to go to a new branch, she went with me. When I transferred to my current position, she didn't follow me because I'm no longer in a position with direct customer contact. But, I still see her and husband occassionally.

And today I explained my horrible roller-coaster ride of a journey to them. And as I watched her tear up, and listened as her husband told me they also lost their first born (a little boy) 41 years ago at 5 1/2 broke my heart all over again.

What I realized today, is that this is the first time I have had to tell someone MY story, and I didn't know HOW to do it. A grief counselor at the hospital told me I would need to come up with a plan on how I would answer questions regarding Bailey, because there are always the inevitable questions of "When are you going to have kids?", or the "how's the baby doing?". I knew those questions would come someday, but I still haven't been prepared for it.

Today was one of the days where I got a "How are you?" and I responded "I'm okay" and they knew something was wrong. They asked, out it spilled...I wasn't prepared.

I'm prepared for the silence I can bring to the room with one sentence (I've done it multiple times...I've found people don't want to hear about your pregnancy when your baby dies). I'm prepared for the looks like I'm contagious (now I am...since it's happened). I'm prepared on how to answer if I have kids (after today I am). I'm prepared to answer direct questions about Bailey or that would include Bailey.

But, I was not prepared to answer the standard "How are you?" question and someone not accept my standard "okay" with a shoulder shrug.

I HATE that I have to be prepared for questions like this. I HATE that I have to have a plan of how I am going to answer these questions. And I HATE that my child is not here with me.

I wasn't prepared to lose her, and I wasn't prepared for people who can read me like a book.


OURedhead said...

I love you!!!

Lisette said...

I am so sorry. It is never easy having to tell your story. It's weird because people hear you but they don't want to believe and act like if nothing (has happened to me so many times). Now I am a point where I am proud to talk about her. I still get emotional but it is much better now. I hope you will be there as well. Take your time, only you know when you are going feel ready. ((HUGS))

Violet1122 said...

It's OK that you didn't feel prepared. How can you truly prepare for those kinds of questions? People say they want to listen to you, but unless they have experienced a baby loss, they really DON'T want to know about it.

Some days, talking about Bailey to strangers will punch you in the gut. Other days, it won't be so bad. Have you read the poem about the shoes no one wants to wear? I'll see if I can find it and send it your way.

I'm thinking of you & praying for you.

Violet1122 said...

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

Maybe you have seen this one before. I'm not sure who the author is, otherwise I'd give attribution.

Some days it may seem like you are the only one who is wearing "these shoes" but there are many of us wearing them who are here to support you.