So....our daycare provider's baby died. He had a diagnosed heart condition in utero, was born prematurely and lived 5 days. Despite his premature birth at 32 weeks, he was doing really well with little assistance. His heart condition was going to be treatable as he got older so his death was quite a shock to everyone, his doctors included.
I explained it to C and C and they immediately said "he died like Curtis!" it is really kind of common to them, really, so I felt sad that they thought it was normal.
His funeral is this weekend. I haven't attend a baby's funeral since *my* baby's funeral.
What is interesting to me is I cannot imagine their grief.
Sounds weird, right? It was like when my co-worker's baby was stillborn at 40 weeks this summer. A baby boy. Sounds pretty similar, right? I couldn't even fathom her pain.
Isn't that weird? I have (and do) grieve/d a son.. I have come home empty handed to a house _full_ of baby stuff. A room decorated. A car seat installed in the car. His name on the wall. His birth announcements designed. I have held my son in my arms while he was lifeless....I have planned a funeral. I have cried and raged and grieved.
And I still cannot imagine the heartache. When I read her words on the caring bridge page about her grief, I nodded, because they are familiar and I do remember feeling like that. Despite that, I cannot imagine it.
It is just that horrible of a thing, that even someone who has been through it, cannot even
fathom it.
When I have watched that video Craig made of Curtis, that documentary as we call it, I cannot even get through it because it is so sad and it is *my* story. I lived it. Like I mentioned in a previous post. It is hard to go back to that dark place, I guess. Maybe it is self preservation.
My heart just aches for these families though. I know the long road they must now travel. I knew in 2006 it would feel better one day and I am grateful I was right.
No comments:
Post a Comment