When I was pregnant with Janel I remember how I suddenly noticed the pregnant women around me. After Zoe died, I remember that I noticed the pregnant women even more than when I was pregnant with Janel. It's a phenomenon that I'd never noticed before: you always tend to notice those who are in the same life stage as yourself, or those who are struggling with the same issues as yourself.
Thinking about this made me realise that somehow, in this modern world, we really have become separated from the cycles of life. I know that this is an old theme, one covered to death by others. Yet, it was brought home to me again just recently.
One of my school friends lost her baby around 10 weeks gestation. This would have been her 2nd child. For her to fall pregnant again required tremendous faith, because her firstborn is ... and here I pause because I can't find the right word. Mentally and physically challenged? Yes, but then, so are we all to some degree. Retarded? I hate that word and refuse to consider it. Handicapped? Yes, but that word conveys more, and less, than his condition has resulted in. Abnormal? Hehehe... what, pray tell me, is normal?? I don't know what to call him. He just is what he is.
Anyway, he requires a lot of physical attention to help him, and will continue to do so for the rest of his life. In this context, I think it is incredibly brave of his parents to consider having another child. I can imagine their fears that something might go wrong with any subsequent pregnancy.... I've been down that road too, although in a completely different context.
SO - the fact that they fell pregnant is an incredible step of faith and trust and joy and hope.... For it to end as it did? Some people might say it's a sign that they're not supposed to have another just yet, or that God showed them mercy by not letting them have another who might share the troubles of their first. Me? I still say it's a tragedy.
There is no pain quite like the pain of a parent losing their child. It doesn't matter that the child's death might be the best thing possible. It still breaks your soul. When your child dies, a part of your very being dies forever too. You never 'get over' it, but you do learn to live around it. After a while it stops consuming you, but the pain is always there - just under the surface.
Is the fact that this death occurred so early in the pregnancy mean it was any less tragic? No. To know that you are growing a life inside you, and then to have that life taken away... it really doesn't matter at what stage; it still breaks you.
In the same week, I learnt of the death of a guy I got to know when I was in school. We didn't spend time together afte we left school, but when I think back to those days, it is with fondness that I remember him. He fought a good battle against colon cancer, but in the end he lost. He leaves behind a wife and 2 young girls. It is really because of his kids that I grieve. No child should ever lose their dad when they're young. It's not fair. No spouse should lose their partner when there are still children to raise. It's just not fair. But it feels even worse when it happens to such an amazing family. Bryan - you will be missed. Robs - our prayers are with you and the girls.
Life goes on. It feels like it shouldn't. It feels, in the face of these tragedies, that the world should stop. But it doesn't. Instead, there are others who are getting engaged, getting married, falling pregnant, and about to have a baby. How exciting and wonderful and joyful!
Except for the people I come into contact with through Born Sleeping (the support group G and I run) I've stopped reading and listening to the stories of others who have lost loved ones. It's just too painful for me. I want to try and enjoy the current cycle of life - enjoy the LIFE that emanates from Nathan - without it being dimmed or reduced by the sorrow that comes from deaths.
Yet I recognise that that is completely selfish, as well as practically impossible. It is not possible to slice life up into convenient little packages like that. Life and death don't come in discrete packages or at discrete moments in your life. They are both taking place around us all the time.
I am still working on how to integrate the them with each other. I'm still trying to figure out how to weep with those who weep, while at the same time being able to mourn with those who mourn - including my own joys and sorrows. Part of me feels guilty for enjoying Nate as much as I do, instead of still mourning Zoe. Yet I recognise that to remain in deep mourning for her would be extremely unhealthy and that failing to enjoy Nathan would be equally unhealthy.
I guess life is about learning to live in multiple emotional states at the same time, without losing your sanity. If you've figured out how to do this, I'd welcome your advice, because at times like this, I find it hard to know how to be joyful and sorrowful at the same time.
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