This is sort of a spin-off of my last post, as I worry it came across as harsh or unappreciative. Every gesture of sympathy or compassion is appreciated. So I just wanted to explain how I deal with the less-than-desirable responses, the "I'm sorry"'s, and the run-aways. I simply acknowledge::
We are all just doing the best we know how.
I know that people don't know the right thing to say. I don't expect someone to have the 'magic words' - there are no magic words to make it better. It will never be better. I know that each person reacts the best they know how. And, for most, it's with shock and dread.
The good thing about that reaction is that they've never experienced this situation before. For that, I am extremely grateful. I would NEVER wish this type of loss or pain on anybody. So it's GOOD they haven't experienced this and can empathize; it's good they don't have the words because this is uncharted territory. And I sincerely hope they never know the right words or can learn over time-and-again experience of comforting others that go through this or, worse yet, experiencing it themselves. I hope they never encounter this situation again. Because that would mean another baby hasn't died.
I will be very honest and frank when I say sometimes I don't even know what to say. I cannot find the words to formulate my feelings, my needs, my pain. So, how am I to expect someone else to know what to say? Someone who has no experience in this territory? Someone who is in the initial shock of the news and hasn't had the time to absorb the full impact? "I'm sorry" is probably all they can muster. And that's okay. Because we are all doing the best we know how.
There are no right or wrong responses. Even the people who say "well at least you can try again" ... it stings, no doubt. Trying again carries so much with it. The fear of "what if it happens again". The internal battle of wanting to love the child but being afraid of losing another one. The hopelessness of knowing you can't do anything but pray it doesn't happen again because it wasn't preventable. And, most importantly, there is no comfort in being able to try again because it will never negate the fact that Colton is dead. It won't bring healing and peace to that loss. It's two totally separate situations and one will not change the other. Really, trying again is almost just a new form of torture and pain, not an easy end-all to this pain.
Again, though, I remind myself they're just doing the best they know how. Trying to comfort me or find the 'bright side' ... they don't see the doom in trying again. And for that I will be grateful. Grateful that they try to help me heal. Grateful they take the time to even say they are sorry and acknowledge something horrible happened.
No one can fix what's happened, no one can change the pain I feel, no one can bring Colton back. The fact that there is an effort, though, is appreciated beyond measure. It's much worse to hear nothing at all and feel like no one cares or everyone has forgotten than to receive jumbled words of hopeful comfort.
We are all just doing the best we know how.. .. ..
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