How Do You Answer That?

I know early on after Dylan's death, my most difficult moments were when people asked if we had any children. When everything was still fresh and raw, the easy-out response was "no". It kept us from having to go into a long, drawn-out story and prevented the inevitably uncomfortable situation of having to tell a complete stranger that your child is in Heaven. But when our answer was "no", I immediately felt lousy afterwards. I felt like I wasn't honoring Dylan's life and that I was doing my son a huge disservice. I would cry and tell Justin, "What am I saying? Of course we have a child!" Those were some of my most emotional breakdowns.

Now, it's over 9 months later, and we are both comfortable talking about Dylan and bragging about him, just like any other parent. And I think the question has come up more often lately because I am currently pregnant. The usual questions are brought up: "How far along are you?" "Do you know if you're having a boy or a girl?" "Is this your first?" When they get to that last question, which they inevitably do, I say with confidence, "no, this is my second" and leave it at that. Most people continue with the expected follow-up, "Oh, how old is your first?" I respond, "My first would be 9 months, but he passed away." The look of discomfort that that line delivers almost makes me feel bad for them though. They don't know what to say, and they wished they hadn't asked at all. They usually say, "Oh, I'm sorry". But I get the impression that they're not apologizing for my loss but for the fact that they put themselves in that position to begin with.

While I will never feel comfortable going back to responding with "This is my first" or "We have no other children", I do wonder how to ease the discomfort for people asking me that question for the first time. It just happened again last week while meeting a work contact, and immediately after she apologized profusely, I just changed the subject for everyone involved in the conversation. It definitely took the edge off.

When You Become a Parent

So there's been a couple of instances now where our own friends have lectured us on how life changes "when you guys have kids". Seems like they've forgotten that we are already parents. I mean, we are [parents] right? Even though Dylan isn't in our earthly presence? And on top of that, the larger irony is that the majority of the people who've given us the "when you guys have kids" or the "when you guys become parents" lecture have been people who don't have kids yet. How do they know how life changes, they don't even have kids themselves! It's almost like trying to give me a lecture on how life is when you're Filipino . . . woah, wait, reality check, YOU'RE NOT FILIPINO, I am!!! Yet another "WTF moment" . . . such is life for parents grieving a loss.

9 Months . . .

Yesterday, Dylan would've been 9 months. I've officially been mourning for my son almost as long as I was pregnant with him. I have this strange serenity over me right now, a calm washing over me. It's difficult to explain, maybe just God's way of protecting me from the deep, deep bitter sadness that I could be in.

Some Borrowed Writing

Jeremiah 29:11

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

Under The Tree - February

Carly from Love Reign Over Me was kind enough to start Under the Tree, a discussion spot for babyloss mothers.

How long have you been blogging for? Why did you start? What do you want from writing?

I started blogging in October 2008. My first post was exactly 4 months, to the day, of Dylan's birth. I was at work one day, just perusing the internet and randomly stumbled upon a babylost momma's blog. I was immediately engaged by her story, even though it was quite different from my own. And a part of me felt compelled to put my story out there, and share Dylan's life with the world. I've always enjoyed writing, and for that reason, blogging seemed like a sort of natural (and free) therapy/outlet for me.

I want my writing to celebrate Dylan's life. Sharing my words and this experience for the world to see, surprisingly, does not make me feel as vulnerable as one would think. It's my story, it's not up for interpretation or argument. I don't have to feel wrong here. I want people to know our journey. I want people to feel with us, and see the beauty that Dylan's short life brought to us. And maybe one day, when I need it most, I want to see how much we've grown and how much we overcame by surviving this.

Where is safest place for you to share your feelings? Is there anywhere you feel completely accepted just being however you are really feeling?

The safest place for me to share my feelings is actually in conversations with my husband. His words and reactions and perspective on everything that we've been through certainly make me feel completely accepted. He lets me feel how I need to feel, when I need to feel it (without fear or remorse). I know, that outside of God, Justin's the only one who experienced Dylan's few days right by my side. We went through those days together and continue to experience together in our grief. And there isn't anyone else in the world that I'd rather share with.

Can you recommend any books that you have read that have given you a new insight, hope or courage in this new life you find yourself in?

A good friend of mine gave me Grieving the Child I Never Knew by Kathe Wunnenberg. That is really the only book I read pertaining specifically to the grief of childloss. I've also been working my way through A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis, not necessarily a book about infant loss but provides insights on Lewis' own journey with his wife's death.

How would you describe yourself before you lost your baby. How have you changed, who are you today?

Before Dylan, I was a happy-go-lucky person. My worries were typical for my age (friends, money, career, etc.) I never thought going into my first pregnancy that anything could/would go wrong. I am forever changed by Dylan's life and the experiences we had with him during his days. I've taken on the mentality of "don't sweat the small stuff". Justin and I always joke about how the things that we could be worrying about simply can't compare to losing a child. Therefore, surprisingly, we're pretty worry-free people these days.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:6-7

Even in quoting a simple bible verse, we've changed. We're much more faithful and religious people now. And we firmly believe that our faith was a gift from Dylan, by way of God of course.

How do you think you are coping? Do you see any light in this road or is it all dark right now? Where do you imagine yourself to be in a years time?

All in all, I think that we're coping pretty well. I still have my days, here and there, where I feel really sad and/or I need a good cry. Of course, I've seen the light in this journey. I acknowledge the gift of faith that gives Dylan's life so much meaning and purpose.

In a year's time, I hope to be telling Dylan's little brother or sister all about him. I hope that my memories of Dylan will always be strong but continue to grow in fondness and not bitterness. I hope that we can continue to celebrate Dylan's life and the impact that it had on ours.

Thank You Carly!

I just want to extend my heartfelt gratitude to Carly and everything she does through her Names in the Sand blog. She is a beautiful soul and such an inspiration. Thank you Carly!

What a blessing to finally have Dylan's memorial post on her site. I'm honored just to see it on there.