A League of Our Own

It's not the sort of club I'd ask my friends to join. Sometimes its hard for me to understand how I got here. And yet, here I am.

A parent who has lost a child.

In the weeks following Ines' passing people have been opening up to me, sharing with me their stories of loss and love. 

Friends (and friends of friends) have shared similar experiences about losing a child, either to miscarriage or death following birth. 

Complete strangers have opened up to me, sharing their pain, their hopes, and encouragement. Yes, complete strangers. One was a tele-marketer for Dr. Edward's bottled water for kids. She called one day to follow up if I received my starter pack from the hospital. I tried to gently tell her that I didn't get anything (since we were in the Neonatal ICU the entire time Ines was there). But she kept pushing, asking since we were home already if my baby had tried the water already. So I bluntly told her: "Miss, I did not get to bring my baby home. She died in the hospital". She got quiet, then she started crying on the phone. Seriously. After a while she told me that she started crying because hearing about Ines' passing reminded her of her own baby's death last year. Due to hydrocephalus.  And then she spent the next hour sharing with me her own tragic story, and the eventual birth of her healthy baby who just turned one this June.

How I wish we we shared other things instead.

Their stories bring me comfort. While I would never want anyone to go through what we've been going through the past couple of weeks, it gives me hope to know that people do go on. Life goes on.

And yes, you can be brave enough to have more kids.

Although its a conversation I'm not ready to have yet, I no longer have the urge to give away the things I bought for Ines. I'm no longer afraid to open that special closet that I set aside for her --- the one that has her new clothes, her feeding bottles, her bibs, and the tiny mittens that John and I bought  a week before she was born, then passed away.

These things can stay in the closet. And hopefully one day, I can open that closet and dust off those things because a new baby has come into our lives. 

That is the story I would rather share with you all.