I know this doesn’t make sense, that it is silly to even think this way, but I just have trouble understanding how people could have been going on with their everyday lives on May 31st and June 1st.
I found out that Jacob died on May 31st. As I walked out of the
OB’s office that morning (after she couldn’t find his heartbeat) to walk to the hospital to have it confirmed by ultrasound, I saw people standing around, driving by, walking around the hospital. It seemed surreal. How could they be acting normal when my world was falling apart?
I take the GO train now to get to work everyday. For the past few nights on the way home, as the train gets near the hospital and I can see a bit of it, I look at everyone sitting on the train reading or working on their laptops. They were likely doing the same thing on May 31st at the time same, as I lay in the hospital bed having contractions and trying to hold it together, as I rested my hand on my belly, trying to soak up every second that I had left with my baby.
Yesterday I read an article in a magazine and it began with “It’s June 1st at 8:30am and I am…..”. On June 1st at that time, I was in a lot of pain, physically and emotionally, knowing that my baby would be born soon, that I would have to say goodbye to him soon. The author of the article was at a private school near Lakefield, just going about his day.
I know someone has just been told that their baby has died, they are just giving birth to their dead baby, or they are cradling their child’s body in their arms, saying their goodbyes. Yet here I am, at home, just going about my day. Just as they were when I lost my Jacob.
It seems funny that the world doesn’t stop when tragedy strikes. But then tragedy strikes everyday, every hour, every minute.
I have also been struggling with the fact that I have so much. I have a wonderful husband, a wonderful family, wonderful friends (many of whom I met after losing Jacob), my health, a good job and a house. I have people who love me and care about what happens to me, who care about my happiness. I have more than a lot of people in the world do.
Yet the one thing I focus the most on is my lost son and the empty space that he has left. I feel like I should focus on what I do have more than on what I don’t have (and I am grateful every single day for everything I have). I was talking to my husband last night about this and about how I have trouble reconciling the two. He pointed out that if we were poor, if we didn’t have the wonderful people in our lives that we do, we would still be sad about Jacob and it wouldn’t be helping the poorer people of the world anyway. At least this way, we can help them. We can donate our money and our time. So that struggle may be resolved now.
But I will always struggle in living life without my son. Maybe the struggle won’t be as hard in a year as it is now, but it will still be a struggle.
I would have been 37 weeks pregnant yesterday. I got my weekly development update from bcc and read it and stared and stared at the picture of the baby, of what Jacob should look like now.
On a more cheerful note, I haven't cried yet today.