You are salt on my wounds

As a bereaved parents, we realize quickly that one of the most difficult and painful part of this new life will be to deal with other people. They say the wrong words. They act the wrong way. The things that are so obvious to us, they don’t even get them. So we try to explain and we share blog posts and we even write some ourselves. « 10 things to never say to a bereaved parents », « How to support a friend who lost a child » (guess what – those are for you). And really, why does it fall on me to educate you ? Why don’t you look for thoses ressources yourself and try to grow as a person ? Why aren’t you here for me and my daughter ? Why are you so selfish ? So tactless ? Why aren’t you doing more ? Doing better ? Frankly what i want to ask is – why are you acting like such an asshole sometimes ?

So I wrote this long article about how hard it is to be around people as a bareaved parent. All these situations happened to me in the past year. Yes, those exact situations, those exacts words. It may come as angry and i won’t lie, there is some anger there. I am not trying to make anyone feel bad for things that were or weren’t done, i don’t hate you and i’ll try my best to forgive you. But i do feel the need to write how deeply that hurted me, how deeply you hurted me.  We are like open wounds, another bereaved mom told me, everything on us is salt. It’s not your fault our babies died and you can’t take away our pain. But please next time – don’t add salt on another mama’s wounds.

You are salt on my wounds… 

Every time i ask about your child, and you don’t ask about mine. You obviously enjoy talking about your kid, why assuming i don’t ?

When we met for the first time and you ask if i have children and it would be easier to say no but i don’t want to lie. Because i need to protect my baby, or her memory, or our love, or my motherhood – i’m not sure what it is exactly but it is floatting and fragile and it needs to be acknowledged. But i know for a fact you will say something stupid afterward and i will remember this discussion before i fall asleep and know i failed my daughter.

We are at a teachers reunion and someone explains that you need « points » to teach in « good » schools. One way to get those points is to have children. But i have a child yet i have no points and when i say it loud, there’s a moment of awkward silence in the room.

We are at a family dinner and you complain about your job or money or some minor health issues or whatever. And the conversation literally goes on FOR HOURS and i’m listening but i’m not saying much because every problem sounds petty when you had to bury your only child.

My daughter died 4 months ago and her father disappear without leaving a note and i spend the night wondering wether he is lying dead on the floor somewhere. The morning after you call me and tell me it’s my fault he left and in any case i will end my life alone because no man could ever love me.

You’re a close friend or family member but you never acknowledged any of Soley’s monthaversaries.

We see each other for the first time in months or years and even though you know that i have a daughter, and she had cancer, and she died, you won’t say a single word about her. I answer your stupid questions about how do i like my job while all i want to say is, « Seriously ? you are going to pretend nothing happened ? »

You are dreading to see me because i make you uncomfortable. I know that and i feel like i’m some kind of grenade.

I am crying in my room and i hear bursts of laughter and silverware clanking and phones ringing and i feel so lonely. Like a foreigner sent to the wrong country.

I promised myself a long time ago i would be a mom before i turn 25. I kept my word. I was 24 when Soley was born. But today i’m turning 26 and my kid is dead and no one calls me.

You treat your children roughly, or neglect them, or scream on them and all this time i’m judging you and i think you suck at parenting and that it’s unfair that my child died because i was such a better mother than you.

Or you treat your children just right but when you come to visit us you incidentally forget to tell them my daughter died. And at some point in the afternoon your kid looks at me and say, « hey, i didn’t know you were a mom ! But where is your baby then ? ». And i really, really think i shouldn’t be the one to answer that but no one does so i say well she died two months ago and she is buried just next street.

We are in the staff room and christmas is around the corner and you tell me how excited you are to see your 3 years-old son open his presents. « I can’t wait to see his eyes sparkles ! » And i just nod because my daughter never opened a present in her entire life and she spent her only christmas receiving chemotherapy.

I am talking about dead babies and grief because that’s a major part of my life now but you find those subjects depressing and of course : what about the children ? My daughter is a child too, but i guess « it’s not the same ».

It’s the first anniversary of my daughter’s death, and you are supposed to be a close family members. But apparently you couldn’t even bother to send flowers or a card or a damn email.

You’re my co-worker and you do send me an e-mail for the anniversary of my daughter’s death – a very angry one, because i accidentally deleted one of your file before going on my baby’s grave (sorry not sorry).

You cheerfully tell me you finally picked a date for your wedding – and it’s my daughter’s birthday.

I can’t end this post without a huge thank you to those who support us in this hell of a life without our daughter. My family, especially my parents and my sisters + their boyfriends, my old friends who still love the new me, my new friends who for some mysterious reasons chose me, my cancer mamas, my soul sisters who have an angel in heaven, all those who love Soley and keep her alive in their hearts. Thank you – you rock – we couldn’t do it without you.