Death of a Child

A few nights ago, I received a phone call from my friend. We used to work together. She called to tell me that the daughter of the secretary at my old job, had died. I could tell my friend was broken up with the news and I was in a state of shock myself. After the phone call, I sat down for a long time and thought what could be worse than losing a child?

 

I had already lived through the death of my parents and the death of my brother, leaving me the last one in my little family. I think the death of my brother was the hardest to accept. Basically, because I worshipped the ground that my big brother walked on. I loved him despite the bumps and bruises that he gave me. But, I wore them with pride, because I egged him on. I loved him despite that he was taller and smarter then I was and he was my mother’s favorite child. But I was my father’s favorite…so we came out even in the end. But he loved my stories of being a basketball player, and having nine children, and getting some of my stories published.

 

Then I thought back to when I was first married and all I ever wanted was to have a baby. Well, not just one but an even dozen. When I was first pregnant, I was ecstatic with the knowledge that in nine months I would have a little baby of my own. When I was almost three months pregnant, I had a miscarriage. I was devastated and wondered…was it a boy or girl? Would I ever be able to have another child? After that, it was hard to see the sun and enjoy it or see other pregnant women, or go to a baby shower, until I was lucky to be pregnant again. Eventually, I was lucky and had nine healthy children. But it took a long time to forget the pain of the baby that I lost. In time the pain goes away but not the memory.

 

I have had one child come close to near death and that was horrible in itself. But it was a scary time. Now I know that the most terrible thing for a mother is to have a child die. I know for a fact that to tell that person that “Your child is in a better place” isn’t the right thing to say, nor is “God wanted her more,” or “You’ll be fine.” Forget those words and just hug that person and let them grieve and talk.

 

I know every night I pray for my children to be happy and healthy and ask God to keep them safe. That is all I can do. When I see my friend at the funeral home, I will just hug her and that is all that I can do for her.