The Things People Say

This week we are sharing some of the things that people had said to us while we were "freshly" grieving. If you want to share your experience or read the journey that others are walking, please click on the "Walking With You" button on my side bar.

Please remember that this post was written a couple of years ago, with some "touch ups." I had a lot of anger when I originally wrote this, and wanted to leave it, as is. This post is what I went through in the early stages of grief, not where I am now in my grief. I feel very different with comments that others say on a rare occasion, and if I don't think it is very nice, I simply tell them.(lol) I am able to communicate my hurt, as it arises.

There are some things that I will not mention, due to the pain that was caused from the comments. Here are two, that really bothered me.....

I do remember my first visit back to church, a few weeks after the loss of Isaiah. There were many women that came up to me and told me about how many miscarriages that they have had. This might sound really mean, but I really didn't care about how many miscarriages they had. I do look at miscarriage as a great loss. It truly is. I had a miscarriage before Isaiah, and it was absolutely heartbreaking. I remember crying for days and weeks, but with Isaiah, I certainly did not have a miscarriage. In my eyes... my circumstances were in a whole other universe of loss. My child didn't die on his own. He wasn't sick. He was healthy. He was growing perfect. He was alive! Basically, he died, so I could live. That is something that I have to wake up with every single morning, and go to bed with every single night. It was out of my hands. There was nothing that I could have done. I questioned every specialty doctor that was available. Nothing was going to change my health. It was out of my hands, and yet I am unable to take it from my hands. I still can't believe it. I had gone through so much trauma, tragedy and loss, the last thing that I wanted to hear about was a miscarriage.

I had one person tell me "but" all of the time.

The conversation would go like this:

Friend: "How are you doing Jenny?"

Me: "Not good."

Friend: " I know it's not easy, but he's in heaven, happy and whole."

This was said about two weeks after I buried Isaiah. Are you kidding me? How much time am I "given" to grieve. 48hours? She knew that it wasn't easy? How did she know that? She has all of her children alive and running around in her home, happy and whole! I was so mad at my friend for months. I wouldn't even return her calls. If your wondering, yes, I did forgive her. I told her how I felt about her having said that to me on numerous occasions, and she felt really bad. As you can see, it's a very sensitive subject. One that should not be taken lightly.

Overall, out of the whole loss in general, I am hurt at how forgotten Isaiah has become. (This does not include my friends on my blog. I truly do not know how I could have gotten through the last three years without your love and support.) It has only been three years, and men and women in history books get more talk about their lives, than my precious Isaiah. On his birthday, I really expected a lot of people to check in on me. It was his first birthday, without him here to celebrate it. The only calls I received that day were from my mom and two friends. That really hurt. This little boy that I write about so often, a little boy I call son, has changed my life so immensely. I have become a better person after becoming his mother. He has taught me how precious life truly is, and how quick it can be taken away. I have put bad behind me, and made better choices for my life. I have forgiven people that I never could have before. I seek truth. I want to leave behind the gift of love and laughter. I try to live as if it were my last day. You never know.... it truly could be.