There are certain questions in life that should warrant a straight answer. Like when it’s a straightforward question. How many fingers do you have? What year were you born? Are you allergic to gluten? Ok, that last one, not so straightforward. I still don’t understand what gluten is. How many children do you have? I never thought this would fall under the classification of “it depends”, but here I am, telling you…it depends.
Being a rainbow mom (a mother of a child born after the loss of another), has had many learning curves. There are lots of lessons, even four years later, that I’m still stumbling to get through. Actually I’m not sure if I can ever “get through” them, but as they come up, I look forward to tackling them with a little more ownership and a little less anxiety than the last time. I think I have it all figured out one day, and the next, I have no clue what to do.
Right after my oldest son passed away, and before I was blessed with my rainbow babies (children born after the loss of another), the answer was easy. If someone asked me how many children I had, I was ready to hurl the answer right back at them. ONE! If they proceeded to ask more questions, like how old he is, I’d be ready with the CliffsNotes. “He’d be 9 months old, but he passed away”. Yup, there it was. Enough awkwardness to carry the asking party through the next twelve months. Three thought processes brought me to this abrupt answer. One: It’s the truth, so why would I say anything different. Two: They asked, so give it to ‘em straight. If they didn’t want to know the answer, then they shouldn’t have asked. Three: I never want to feel like I’m in any way diminishing the life that my son got to lead, no matter how short. He will always be significant. He existed.
I’m always interested to know how other rainbow, or loss moms, answer this once simple question. The first few times I heard other rainbow moms mention that they don’t always include their Angel in their child count, I was appalled. How could they do that? In my mind, how many children you have was still one of those straightforward questions. Until one day, it wasn’t.
It was a gradual change. The first few times I left my son off of my child count, I cried. I was so disappointed in myself. I actually felt nauseous. Why should I care what other people think? This is my life, so what of it, if they can’t deal with the answer. Well, these are actually a few of the reasons why I don’t always tell people about my son.
It’s the truth. Yup, it sure is. It’s my unfortunate truth. However, not every conversation is exactly teed up for an unfortunate turn of events. Do I want to be Debbie Downer? Er, Lamenting Laura? Nope…at least not all of the time. I once got in on a conversation with a group of coworkers, discussing some of our favorite movies. One coworker asked me if I had any children. At the time, my rainbow babies hadn’t arrived yet. I quickly responded that I have a son, but he passed away. This coworker started to explain that he was asking because his movie suggestion has strong language and it may not be appropriate for children. Well, that won’t be an issue, and I’m so glad I could keep the conversation breezy and about movies (insert sarcasm).
Note: Looking back on this situation, I never would have said ‘none’, but I probably could have gotten away with a ‘yes’. I know, hindsight.
They asked, so give it to them straight. Yes, they asked, but most of the time they ask under the pretense that they’ll be getting the once simple answer. A number, not an explanation. And have you ever noticed that lots of times when other parents ask how many children you have, it’s setting it up so that they can reciprocate with how many children they have? We’re parents and we’re proud. I don’t blame anyone for wanting to talk about their children. They’re pretty awesome. But it’s a parental nicety. Which leads me to third thought…
Never wanting to diminish my son’s life. I can’t predict how people will react when I tell them my child passed away. You hope for genuine empathy and sincerity. Lots of times, you can get back awkward and dismissive. When I tell someone about my son, I open myself up and share a large part of who I am. If the response is for lack of a better word, yucky, I can’t take it back. In mere seconds, I can feel like I’ve given someone something of myself that they didn’t deserve. Getting responses like, “Awesome”, or “Well, lucky you’re young and you can have more”, or “You should be thankful for your two living children”, just don’t feel good. Why didn’t I just give them a parental nicety? A number.
So how do I know which approach to take when asked this once simple question? It depends. What is the situation like? Who am I talking to? How heavy is my grief that day? The answers to these questions can help guide me to an answer that I feel comfortable with. Maybe it’s easier to just give a number. Or maybe I’ll just end up stumbling through the situation like I usually do, even with four years already under my belt, with a few “Ummms” and “Wells”.
The answer to this question depends. The truth is always the same. I have and always will have three children (Angel included).
5 Essentials to Rediscovering Your Joy After Loss
The last paragraph gave me goosebumps. (Angel Included). My heart feels the depth of your words and as always, thank you for sharing.
I lost my daughter when she was 3 months old and then miscarried. I was finally blessed with another baby 4 months ago. I have grown to hate the question: “is this your first?” I try to answer with a simple “no, not my first” and hope people drop it. When they keep probing- I tell them that my baby has a big sister in heaven. I hate that this is not a straightforward answer. Thank you for sharing this so I know I’m not alone.
Thank YOU for sharing Christa. Sooo many mixed emotions with that question, right? Yes, I hate that what should be a simple question, is just not easy for us. I still wonder if it’ll get easier as these years go by. Congratulations on your little rainbow (I hope you’re going easy on yourself) and thinking of your beautiful Angel.