Grief

I've had an experience the past few days that reminded me how hard grief can be. A neighbor of mine lost her baby. She was full term when her baby's cord compressed and caused it to be stillborn. I sit here, still at such a loss of what I can do. It's because, quite frankly, I know there is NOTHING I really do. When I found out the news it made me so frantic. Having done this twice, I feel like a bit of a pro. With tears streaming down my face I kept silently saying, "They are going to run out of time." How do you squish a lifetime's worth of memories into a day? You don't. You just don't get them. I didn't know what to do. Should I go out there? They only had so much time as a family. Would I be intruding? Is there something I could say that would help them have one less regret later? You see, this dear neighbor of mine has a special place in my heart when it comes to one of my boys. When I was pregnant with Joshua, there were so many pregnant ladies. And it seemed like ALL of them were having girls. She was due with a boy not a month later and so we had determined our boys could be buddies. Well, unfortunately, we didn't quite make it with the follow through on that one. But year after year on or near Joshua's birthday I would get a call or a quick visit. Hey we are thinking of you was the message each time. She remembers my baby's birthday. Not many people, even in my close circle of friends remembers. (And heck, how could anyone who met the kid forget him. He was so dang cute and such a little hunk of a boy!) So knowing that she was going to experience a similar heartache was just about all I could bear yesterday. My heart has rarely felt so incredibly heavy. And this time the grief wasn't just about me. It did bring up those deep feelings of grief for my boys and how I missed them. But I just had such a sadness that she now has to really get it. You can't get it unless you have been there. You can be so sad for someone. But then, something happens and you can let your mind wander from it for a minute. You can let your world go on for a while until you remember how awful things are for that person. When you are in the club, however, it's a different story. I guess it's a good thing that most people literally can only try to understand because it's so painful that you don't really want everyone to know what it feels like. Anyway, I did go for a visit and I got to visit her little angel. Oh my goodness he was a sweet beautiful little baby. I got to touch his soft skin and admire his beautiful hands and feet. His fingers were divine. I feel fortunate to have been able to caress his little head. He's the only little angel baby I have ever held except my own. Angel babies bring a different feeling to the room. Yes, there is sadness, but it isn't just that. They bring with them reverence for life and for the life after death. Oh, how fortunate I was to get to meet his little body. And now I grieve for my friend. I wish I didn't know what was ahead of her. I don't want her to have to endure it, but there is no other way. You can't shortchange grief. It's always gets its way. For now, I'll count my blessings, all seven of mine and pray that I can help her shoulder some of her cares now.