Welcoming the Sorrow: Judy on Loss

Your “lost” baby is always and forever a part of our family. What a strange euphemism, “lost.”  We know right where that baby is: in our hearts. You and Ari share your bittersweet memories of excitement and anxiety, eager plans and heartbreaking sorrow. Because we learned about the baby only after its brief life had ended, the rest of us may not have suffered the loss as deeply but we do share your grief and keep the baby safely home in our love.

As Erica discovered, perhaps there is something about a 10-year anniversary of a loved one’s death.  Ten years after my mother’s death, I opened the newspaper on her birthday, noted the date, and burst into tears. Her loss had been great, and brought with it the enormous challenge of nursing my father through his own slow decline, but I needed to grieve for my mother that day.

Obviously, I had not been grieving intensely every day for 10 years. But each day of our lives builds on the previous ones, and there are times when we need to revisit an old loss from a new perspective.  Two dear friends, who have seen their children die in vastly different and enormously tragic ways, taught me to welcome the sorrow when and as it comes — buying toilet paper in Walmart was one friend’s big challenge, finally sleeping through the night was the other’s. Each passing day brings us closer to the point where we can remember the joy without being overwhelmed by the sorrow and tragedy of loss.

Dearest Kathleen, I hope you have reached that day where you can remember the joy and eager plans for your lost baby without the overwhelming sorrow. Some of Tessa and Calder’s beautiful smiles and loving hugs are on behalf of the sibling they have yet to meet.

This piece originally appeared as a comment on Farewell, and Welcome Home.