Those of you who follow my blog know that the subject matter is generally funny, mainly because after 36 years I have finally learned to laugh at myself. And because anyone who has spent more than 10 minutes with my kids knows that it's really hard not to laugh at them. I never know what is going to come out of their mouths. To characterize their thoughts as "random" is a complete understatement.
On this day, however, my heart is very heavy. Through the modern marvel that is social media, today I learned that an acquaintance of mine passed away just eight days after giving birth to her son. I can't begin to imagine what her family is going through. Shock, grief, anger, exhaustion...all of the emotions that go along with the sudden loss of a loved one. And then there's her son. A precious, beautiful, innocent life that is just beginning. What must he be thinking, as the most important, constant person in his life is suddenly missing? Just the thought brings tears to my eyes.
Eight days. Eight short days to spend with your only child. I can't think of anything more horrible. Eight days isn't enough for anything. Not enough time to cuddle, not enough time to listen to the sweet sounds newborn babies make, not enough time to sit for hours and gaze into the face of a miracle on loan from God. I have never felt more grateful for my children and the years I have been allowed to spend with them.
This situation really hit home for me, mainly because it was my husband's worst fear during my pregnancies. My sweet, strong, amazing veterinarian husband was literally terrified that something was going to happen to me. While my OB and I made jokes and picked on him for being so worried, he summed it up rather succinctly when he said, "Stuff dies having babies." Sometimes knowledge is not power. When a woman becomes a mother-to-be, her focus immediately shifts from her own well-being to that of her child. We are willing to give up anything and everything to protect the tiny, miraculous life growing inside us. Men don't always have the same experience, although they tend to get the same feeling once they hold their baby for the first time. One too many OB emergency calls and patients who died despite his best efforts had left my husband completely unable to relax and enjoy any part of my pregnancy, and my deliveries were nearly as stressful for him as they were for me.
My biggest fear was a C-section and a baby in the NICU, his biggest fear was being left a single father. As a woman, I have never felt more out of control of my own body. As helpless as I felt being pregnant, I really think it was even worse for my kids' dad. He had to worry about them and me. Interestingly, it never occurred to me that my pregnancies would end with anything more than healthy, happy babies. I never thought about miscarriage or extremely premature deliveries, and I certainly never even considered the fact that I might die. I'm betting the mother of that precious eight day old baby boy didn't either.
My heart goes out to the family of the mother and father of that little boy. Judging from the response on social media, there will be no shortage of people to tell him what a wonderful person his mother was. Just the thought of him growing up without her is so, so sad.
We are not guaranteed one more day, one more hour, or one more second with our loved ones. I have spent my day with my daughter, hugging her a little tighter and kissing her more often. My hope is that the loss of this young woman will cause many other people to do the same.
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