"If you're in pain, help someone else's pain. And, when you're in a mess, you get yourself out of the mess by helping someone out of theirs." -Oprah Winfrey

I’m the Lady Whose baby Died

I see the look of pity cross your face,
Can see the apprehension in your eye,
To you I am now just a status,
I’m the lady, whose baby died,
I know you don’t want to talk,
If you can you will rush on by,
So you don’t have to be reminded,
I’m the lady, whose baby died,
You think how can I mention?
If I do then will she cry?
So it’s a curse hello as you pass me by,
I’m the lady, whose baby died,
My heart it breaks just a little more,
It hurts me I can not lie,
You see forever now I will be known as,
I’m the lady, whose baby died,

Christine Bevington 2011

 

The Pit
The day my child died, I fell into the pit of grief. My friends watched me struggle through daily life, waiting for the person I once was to arise from the pit, not realizing "she" is gone forever.

The pit is full of darkness, heartache and despair, it paralyzes your thoughts, movements and ability to ration. The pit leaves you forever changed, unable to surface the person you once were.

Some of my pre-grief friends gather around the top of the pit, waiting for the old me to appear before their eyes, not understanding what's taking me so long to emerge. After all, in their eyes, I've been in the pit for quite sometime. Yet in my eyes, it seems as if I fell in only yesterday.

Not all of my pre-grief friends are gathered around the top of the pit. Some are helping me with the climb out of the darkness. They climb side by side with me from time to time, but mostly they climb ahead of me, waiting patiently at each plateau. Even with these friends I sometimes wonder if they are also waiting for the pre-grief me to magically appear before their eyes.

Then there are the casual acquaintances, you know the ones who say, "Hi, how are you?" when they really don't care or really want to know. These are the people who sigh in relief, that it is my child who died and not theirs. You know...the "better them, than me" attitude.

My post-grief friends (and a rare pre-grief friend) are the ones who climb with me, side by side, inch by inch, out of the pit with me. They are able to reassure me when I need reassurance, rest when I need resting, and encourage me to move forward when I don't have the strength. They have no expectations, no memories and no recollection of how I "should" be. They want me to get better, to smile more often and find joy in life, but they also accepted the person I've become. The "person" who is emerging from the pit

Author Unknown