In no particular order, here are some of the thoughts I’ve been having and things that have been happening the past few weeks.
I basically haven’t been on Facebook for more than two weeks. And I can’t really say that I miss it.
My messages, emails, and texts are a sad reminder of this huge pivot point in my life. Everything before Aug. 21 is filled with mundane exchanges about details that, in the grand scheme of things, are perfectly trivial. I was blissfully unaware of the tragedy that was about to befall me. I both curse the innocence of these exchanges and long for them. Then there were a few messages where things took a horrible turn, and everything after Aug. 21 is filled with phrases like, “I’m so sorry” and “Is there anything I can do?” and sad emoji—weeping faces, blue and broken hearts. When I returned to work and opened my email for the first time, confronting this dichotomy was really painful.
Tragedies like the mass murders in Paris are no longer horrible and sad simply on their own merits. Now they are mixed up in and colored by my feelings about Luke’s death. I keep thinking of the shock and grief that all the victims’ loved ones are experiencing, and that just reminds me of my own shock and grief. Then I feel shitty for making the tragedy in any way about me.
At some point I realized I no longer wear makeup. I know this is connected to Luke’s death in some way, but I’m not sure how.
Newborn boys are everywhere.
When I’m with Zoe, I wonder if other parents look at me, do the math in their head, and ask themselves when I’m going to have another child or why I’m not pregnant yet.
Sometimes I want to shout at every parent I see, “My son was stillborn in August! BE NICE TO YOUR KID AND PUT DOWN THE GODDAMN PHONE!”
I’ve thought about creating a T-shirt on CafePress that says, “I was pregnant for nine months and all I got was this lousy T-shirt.” I’m sure some people will find this shocking, but I know other baby loss moms will appreciate the dark humor.
lukewyatt | life after stillbirth 
Depressing thoughts. I see new baby boys and it makes me sad. hard not too. However, I am sure most people see you and Zoe do not think why does she not have another. They se a beautiful little girl and a proud momma. I am not sure about the make up. It may be connected or not. Hard for me to comment about that, outside of my area. So I am sorry about your depressing thoughts. Paris was awful and it has depressed everyone. Not a great world we live in. Way too much hate. Anyway, loving you and Luke forever, Dad!
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I stumbled across your blog because we have some of the same tags. I can relate to so many things you have written. Our daughter was born still on May 29, at 35 weeks. Sending hugs from one grieving momma to another. 💙💜
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Thank you, Liz — I checked out your blog and it brought back so many images and memories from my own experience. I’m so sorry we have to live through this. Hugs returned.
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I so resonate with all of this but was thinking about the Paris events and general state of the world. It makes me so much more sad than ever before. When you have suffered a bereavement you can feel the pain of others’ losses so acutely and to think they died so needlessly is just so much worse! Thank you for writing something I was thinking x
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Good thought … thank you for helping me to see that I am not being selfish!
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Beautifully and honestly said. Grief is such a two sided experience. For people like you and I the tee shirt makes a very poignant statement and I actually love it. For those on the other side, those who don’t understand grief, they probably would be wondering what the hell is wrong with you. We truly become different creatures after the death of a child. I am so sorry for your loss.
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Thank you, Gene – I am sorry for your loss as well. Thank you for sharing your story. My husband loved the idea of the T-shirt too – we know most people wouldn’t get it.
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