30 years ago, I was ready to become a big sister. I was the age of my young daughters. I remember the crib, the smell of new carpet in the bedroom that would be the nursery, the primary colored balloons on a sleeper I helped my mom hang on a hanger in his bedroom closet. There might have even been balloon wallpaper border if my memory doesn’t fail me.
But I never met my much anticipated sibling. He was born, dead. A stillborn, I was told. I only remember my grandma and aunt telling me. It was my grandma’s 53rd birthday. I remember my hysterics, kicking and crying and them taking me to my grandparent’s farmhouse. I remember how much I wanted to see my mom. But she was very sick and I could not see her.
I cannot imagine the loss my parents went through 30 years ago or the time that followed.
I have had three children in all very different circumstances from induction to emergency c-section, natural birth to scheduled c-section. Every time I have thought of him, the brother I never knew. Every time I have thought of what my mom went through on December 19, 1982, in the loss of a child. It was a different time. There were no blogs. You didn’t talk about the loss as openly. There was mourning and grieving. It was less known, less talked about socially. I remember playing “flower shop” with the many flower arrangements sent to our house. I remember my mom being sad. Then I remember seeing the balloon sleeper hang in the storage room in the basement. It was no longer awaiting my brother in the nursery. It was put away, for another day, for another chapter or maybe to remember.
There has not been a year that goes by that I don’t think about him this time of year. Tonight it hit me walking into the gym when I saw my mom and she said she needed to get home to take Grandma out on her birthday tomorrow for a visit to see Great Aunt Iris, age 107. My mom has her mother, her great aunt but not the son born 30 years ago.
The life lesson in the loss is pivotal for me. I thought about it as my mom and dad sat behind my husband, daughters and me in the bleachers during our son’s basketball game. My youngest brother, Joe, age 23, sat next to my dad. My brother, Robbie, age 27, is the head coach of our son’s team and was on the bench tonight.
The life lesson: keep going. My parents kept going after heartache, loss and tragedy.
I don’t know why I never got to meet my brother 30 years ago. But I know that after great loss came joy. My mom had three healthy babies in mid to late 1980’s. Today they are my siblings.
My grandma and grandpa still live the same farmhouse. On December 19, I celebrate Grandma Nola’s birthday, honor the memory of the brother I never met and cherish the example my parents set for me to keep going as best you can and “do the next thing” as my mom often says.
Burned into all of our minds right now, I, like you, do not understand the tremendous tragedy and murders of young children in the Newtown, Connecticut school shooting. There is great loss. There is great heartache. Emptiness. Horrific pain.
But we must do the next thing. We must keep going. The journey is long but the journey does bring us joy, even after loss.
Katie I also lost a child at birth 1961. I still remember a lot about that day. God was there and took that soul back home. I know how your Mom felt.
Katie,
I suffered (and sometimes even the word suffering isn’t strong enough) from three miscarriages. The last one was, by far, the hardest because I carried it longer. I learned several things from going through those tough times. I learned God is oh so very good! He helped me through what seemed like the hardest emotions to work through. He helped me realize that my world would get back to “normal” again and that there was a reason for this. I look back now and think about what would have happened should I carried those three babies full term. I wouldn’t have Taylor or Callie. I can’t imagine life without them! I learned that sometimes, the best words to tell a grieving mother going through something like this is simply, “I love you and I care!”. They don’t need to hear the “it must have happened for a reason” or “there must have been something wrong”. The fact of the matter is from the very day I found out I was pregnant, I anticipated holding and smelling that baby. I lost that! Maybe no words at all and just a genuine hug! I learned there are good people who will do whatever it takes to help you “do the next thing”. And lastly, I learned there isn’t much out there for moms going through miscarriage to read or help understand the “why’s”. I was so hungry to know why this happened. Maybe there is no way of telling anyone the reason why. I asked a pastor once if I would one day meet my three children in heaven and would we know each other. His answer was YES. I look forward to one day meeting the babies I didn’t get to hold here. I can honestly sympathize with your mom and with you! A loss like that affects everyone. Thanks for sharing!
Katie, Brings me tears, joy and amazement. You put this post into your most beautiful words and we thank you! My mother too lost a baby (an older sister) 2 years before I was born. She died the day after she was born and you are right, “back then” you didn’t discuss it. I didn’t even know about it until I was in my early teens.
“Do the next thing.” I’m going to remember that. Thanks Katie.
Such a heartfelt post Katie, thanks for sharing. You reminded me of the baby brother I also lost as a stillborn when I was little. I couldn’t have been older than two, so I don’t remember it but I think about him a lot. It is hard this time of year, we need to keep people who have lost their loved ones in our hearts and prayers!
Thank you for sharing your feelings for the brother you never got the chance to know. I lost my big brother at the age of 34 in May of this year, and I have no other siblings. I had a friend lose her 8 week old baby to SIDS in July. I Sometimes wonder what’s worse, the tragedy of never getting to know a person, or having 34 years with a person knowing you’ll never make any more memories with them.
Obviously there is no answer to that, they are both insanely unfair. No mother should EVER have to bury her baby, at any age. I became a new mom this year. My son was just two months old when my brother died, and he has been the good in this world (along with my brother’s 6-year-old daughter) that has kept my family going over the last 7 1/2 months with the absolute innocent joy he brings. My friend who lost the baby in July, just found out she is pregnant again.
All we can do is, as you said, do the next thing. I don’t know how my mom and dad have gone on, but they have. I don’t know how my brother’s 31-year-old widow is going on raising my niece niece without my brother, but she is. I don’t know how my friend picked herself up and created another new life, but she did. I don’t know how I have gone on, but I have. We all must go on after tragedy, because there is no other choice. Time really does heal, but the scar is always permanent.
Kristin
I can relate to your Mom, Katie. I have had 3 miscarriages. The second one was 2 years ago at this time. It was the one time J and I actually tired to get pregnant. At our first OB appointment we saw our baby on the ultrasound and heart its heart beat. At the December appointment there was no heartbeat.
I struggled and cried on Monday. But I know that God is in control and have faith in his works.
Touching post. My parents had a miscarriage after my birth, and then had 4 more children. They grieved and it is still a cause of sorrow. Years later we lost my 28 year old brother. Not a day goes by that he isn’t missed or loved, but yes, we all had to keep living. My brother’s daughter really can’t remember him, but his memory is kept alive through family and stories. My prayers to all those suffering.
My husband had a sibling he never met, too.
This is a wonderful post. How wonderful that your grandparents are still in the same farmhouse!
So wonderful your Great Aunt is 107. You must have learned so much from her. And maybe you still do.
Happy Birthday to your Grandmother! God bless you all! ♥
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