Wednesday, October 22, 2008

The Alternative

If my son was alive, I wouldn't know you.

I would say things like "It's okay - they're young and can have another one" or "Maybe it's all for the best."

I would get all awkward and change the subject if someone mentioned a death or a pregnancy loss.

I would imagine myself to be empathetic and understanding, even though there would be no possible way for me to understand.

I would think I can't possibly imagine, while tucking my two living sons into bed at night and thanking God it happened to them, not me.

I would think that people still talking about miscarriages 10 years later was kind of sad - why aren't you over it yet?

I would still think that taking pictures of people after they're dead is creepy and weird.

I wouldn't know any of the following terms: idiopathic cardiomyopothy, subsequent baby, abruption, ectopic, and worst of all cord accident.

I would have no idea who Jason Collins is.

I wouldn't use the words "try" or "if we're lucky" or "maybe" in regards to having a baby.

I would think that having annual memorial events for people who didn't even live was incredibly self-indulgent.

I would not have a blog.

I wouldn't know any of you.

If my son were alive, I wouldn't know you. In so many ways, I hate that I know you. But every day I am deeply thankful that I do.


Rosepetal said...

That world, the one where I didn't know those things, is so far away now, I don't recognise it anymore. You have been extremely supportive to me since I entered the new world. I'm glad that if I had to be here, I got to know you.

Catherine said...

And I am deeply thankful that I know you.

Cara said...

A stunning post. Without question - every word is true. I could write "ditto" after ever period and it would work.

Awful to know you too.
Glad to be a part of your life.

Mrs Macgyver said...

Interesting love/hate relationship. Right back at ya.

WiseGuy said...

I'm touched.

niobe said...

Yes. That's it exactly.

Dr. Joanne Cacciatore said...

This is often something I struggle with too, even 14 years later. My son, now nearly 12, would not be here. And my world would look so different. It's painful to consider at times, so I try to both live in the sadness of her death and the joy of the love I do have now. Sometimes, they are at odds. Mostly, these days, they coexist in peace. Thank you for this.

Aurelia said...

I'm so glad I know you too, I didn't picture it happening this way, but I"m glad it did in the end.

kate said...


Pipsylou said...