“How Old Is your Baby?”
Last week, for the first time since I gave birth to my second son, someone ask how old my baby was. It was at a dentist appointment. She saw from my medical chart that I marked “child birth” as a reason for hospitalization. I’m not sure that’s the kind of reason they are looking for on that particular field but never the less, I listed it.
“Oh you have a baby!” She said. And I smiled and said yes. I kinda hoped she’d leave it there and we could both just smile about it. But she didn’t. She asked how old he was.
My brain screamed at me to just say, “he’s three!” And leave it there. It wasn’t a lie, my first baby is three years old. But it’s a clear omission of some very important information.
If Miles was alive, I’d have quickly said I had two boys. I would have gushed about my 6 week old and mentioned my 3 year old all in the same breath.
But my heart said, “She can take it. Be kind to yourself.” And I told her I had two babies. I also could have stopped there. She might not have asked about them further. But I didn’t care. I wanted her to know.
“My oldest is three and my second was stillborn in May.”
I couldn’t see much of her face behind her medical mask but her eyes locked into mine and she didn’t move. I started crying and apologized for making things weird. I said a lot of things just to fill the silence I’d created.
I told her that I love to talk about my baby even though he died because it makes me feel close to him. I told her I don’t want to make things awkward for her. I thanked her for giving me the space to talk about him even though it was clearly awkward.
When she found her voice again it was choked and she said, “I lost a baby too.”
She told me it was years ago before her oldest who was now a teenager. She said she still wonders what that baby would have been like and what her life would have been like with him. She said she often thinks that if she hadn’t lost that baby that she might not have the three wonderful children she has today. She said some times she still feels sad even nearly 15 years later.
I just cried. I couldn’t believe that right there in a dentist office was another person who had felt the pain I’m feeling and was so willing to talk about it. She said sharing about her baby made him feel more real to her too. And to think I also left my answer at, “he’s three.”
Always be kind to yourself and honest about what you need to say. You never know who needs to hear your story.