Telling People

Yesterday, the Hubs and I both had our first awkward “telling somebody who didn’t know Hudson had died” experiences.

The Hubs was mowing the front yard, and our wonderfully sweet neighbor man came over and asked,

“Are you a daddy yet?”

I was going through the drive-thru at our local Starbucks. I haven’t had the heart to take Hudson’s carseat out yet. The girl at the window asked, “How’s that baby doing back there?”, straining to get a peek.

“She didn’t get to come home,” was what I managed to squeak out through an incoming tearchoke.

I felt bad. I’m sure she felt worse. Then she flipped up her sleeve and said, “I know what you’re going through.”

Her upper arm was tattooed with two sweet baby feet and a name.

“Oh! We are thinking of doing that too. I’m so sorry.” There was some babbling I’m sure.

I cannot believe how many people I encounter who have experienced such a tragic loss. It’s a nightmare. This world is not my home.

I know that this is likely not the first time I’ll have to break the bad news to somebody. I imagine it will get a little less difficult, that I’ll have better words to share the story, but there’s no avoiding the fact that it is painful, it is uncomfortable. And eventually it will not come up. People who recognize me, remember me when I was pregnant, will either know the story, or they’ll have figured it out, or they’ll have forgotten that I was pregnant, and they’ll think, “Wasn’t she pregnant a while ago?” or they won’t think of it at all.

I can’t imagine a day I won’t think about it at all. But I know that time heals.

And I’m getting better at speaking through the tearchoke.

2 thoughts on “Telling People

  1. user1deasy says:

    I’ve been reading you blog for the past month or so, but today, my good friend S.N. from L.S. wines sent this post to me. She wanted to make sure I read it. I lost my 7-year-old son suddenly and unexpectedly fives years ago. And just yesterday I told a new friend about our loss. Since it is the most defining part of my life, it’s hard to build a relationship without describing this enormous aspect of my life. Your experience resonated with me. Thank you for writing. You have an incredible way with words. I am absolutely heartbroken about your baby girl. I think of you a lot. Please keep writing. It is very powerful. -Jill

    • MommaDub says:

      Jill – I’m still navigating these tricky waters… how to tell people in a way that isn’t just the tear-choke-babble, how to make Hudson a part of my life in an open and genuine way. It is absolutely the most defining part of my life… but it also so terribly sad. I want to avoid that uncomfortable, “Oh I’m so sorry I brought this up” moment, but then I feel it is worse to pretend Hudson didn’t happen at all. I hope that in time I will be able to share Hudson with people face to face in a way that doesn’t ruin their day and mine, and writing about her is helping me sort through all the feelings and thoughts and arrive at maybe the most hopeful and useful ones. It breaks my heart that you lost your son. Nobody deserves to go through that, it is unnatural for a parent to outlive their child and yet it happens so often. I wish there was a way for me to make this world right.

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