The past week she has come up with a plethora of heart wrenching questions, usually asked during non-opportune times like while we are driving home from school, waiting in line at Walgreens, or on the playground. These are times when I absolutely cannot lose my composure, lest I drive off the road or make other parents question my sanity.
Some of the questions that have come out this week (note: my daughter always called the baby "Pi" - we don't really know why and she just called him that from the moment we told her about the pregnancy, and that is what she continues to call him.)
"Did it hurt Pi when he died?"
"Did Pi cry when he died?"
"Did Pi know that he was dying?"
"Why couldn't the doctors help Pi to not die? Hospitals are supposed to make you feel better and not die."
"Why didn't I get to see Pi - you and Daddy did, I really wanted to see what he looked like?"
"Did you bring flowers to Pi when he died to make him feel better?"
"What happened to Pi after he died?"
"Why can't God bring Pi back for just a little while so I can play with him?"
"Am I going to die too?"
"I want to be an angel right now so that I can play in the clouds with Pi"
The questions go on and on. They are heart-breaking. She asks me every day when the "baby fairy" is going to come and put another baby in my tummy. She got so used to me being pregnant, that now all she wants to do when she plays with her Barbies or plays doctor is to pretend that she is having a baby. It's so fucking sad, I can't deal with it.
Yesterday was my 6 week follow up appointment with my OB. The waiting room was miserable. I counted 2 newborn babies (one who was crying) and 5 pregnant women, one of whom bumped into me as I was leaving. I sat in the chair and plugged my ears with my fingers, closed my eyes, and rocked back and forth until the nurse called me back. I'm sure everyone thought that I was nuts. As predicted, no results back from the post mortem, although my OB did call the pathologist who said that the results would be back by the end of this week and that so far, on the preliminary report, she didn't see anything that stood out as a conclusive cause of death. I had 10 vials of blood drawn to check for various things in hopes that if something showed up in them, I could be treated for it so this wouldn't happen again.
And tomorrow was supposed to be my due date. Instead of having my baby, I will be more than likely reviewing his autopsy report.
You're going to search. You will keep yourself up every night week after week. You'll read every book, pamphlet, flyer, restaurant napkin and matchbook for answers. And you probably wont find them. And even if you do, there wont be anything you can do about it. What if it is genetic? Are you going to deconstruct you dna somehow and remove it? Finding the answer to what happened is only going to drive you crazy. I realize you want something or someone to blame, but in the end the outcome will still be the same. He's gone and he's not coming back. It doesn't matter if you know why or not. You have to let go of the hunt.
ReplyDeleteYour daughter will continue to ask questions. She doesn't understand what is going on. She didn't understand how or why you were even pregnant. The baby fairy was a good side step at having to not explain to a five year old about intercourse, but its not grounded in reality. Its too magical. Too fantasy. So now when she hears her little brother has died and is flying in the sky with the clouds and angels, this too is too whimsical. Its just as confusing if not more so. Maybe try a different approach. Less fantasy involved. I know as a parent you want to filter the world and give it a pleasant G rating, but that's not life. She's lost her brother before she met him. Even in some small way, she'll carry that with her. You all will. Perhaps the seriousness of the event is more than she can comprehend (ie. having you check to see if she's breathing). As forbidding as it may sound, try changing the subject with her. The less she dwells on trying to figure out this strange mystery of death and how it works, the less you'll have to be reminded, so you can continue mending. You want her thinking about happy things afterall, never death. Death is too complicated. Death is never happy
Its hard. It sucks. It hurts. But in the end, do you want to allow it to destroy you? Survive this. Don't become a victim to it.
Let go, but continue loving