It’s a place filled with the echoes of the past. The familiar sounds and scents transport me back to a time four years ago when my family spent nearly half a year here. It feels like yesterday yet somehow also like a distant memory. Today, instead of being a patient, I’m merely a visitor at our local hospital. As I wandered through the lobby, I heard someone call my name. Turning around, I saw a stranger approaching.
“You don’t know me, but I was part of the team when you gave birth,” she said. “I remember Clara and Ethan, and of course, Lily.”
I was taken aback; a lump formed in my throat as my heart began to race. The names she mentioned are my triplets, names I utter daily at home. While our living child, Lily, is often recognized, hearing Clara and Ethan’s names from someone else was a rarity that left me speechless.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as this stranger spoke about that pivotal day, July 15, 2015. She was a nurse on the labor and delivery floor, present during the chaotic moments when my premature triplets were born at just 22 weeks. I remember the whirlwind of medical staff rushing in and out, each hoping to save both my babies and me. This nurse was there, working tirelessly in those critical moments between life and death.
For many, mentioning a deceased child’s name may seem insensitive, but for parents who have experienced loss, it is often the opposite. As time passes, the memory of a child’s absence can fade into the background of daily life. My family thinks about Clara and Ethan every single day. While we navigate our grief, the world continues on, often oblivious to our pain.
Over the years, I’ve found a new normal as a parent of both living and departed children. Though our family may appear whole to outsiders, there is much that remains unseen. People often notice just one child by my side, unaware that Lily has two siblings who lived only a short time. While I cherish discussing all three of my children, society’s awkwardness surrounding grief can make it difficult to share our story. Conversations often halt at the mention of a child who has passed, met with gasps or sympathetic looks, leading many grieving parents to keep their pain private.
In that hospital lobby, with tears brimming in my eyes, the nurse enveloped me in a warm embrace. This stranger, who had only just approached, was no stranger at all; she had shared in my family’s journey and knew my children, one of the few who had met all three of my triplets. A profound connection formed in that moment.
As I thanked her for acknowledging my children by name, my eyes filled with tears once again. “Thank you for remembering Clara and Ethan,” I said. “I rarely hear their names from anyone outside my family.”
With a gentle smile, the nurse replied, “Your family is unforgettable, and so are your three children.”
Though I only have one child in my arms today, Clara and Ethan will forever hold a place in my heart. A fleeting encounter with a compassionate stranger served as a poignant reminder that it doesn’t matter how long they were with us; Clara and Ethan existed, and they will never fade from memory.
For more insights on pregnancy, you can explore this excellent resource at March of Dimes. If you’re seeking information about home insemination, check out Make a Mom for expert advice.
To read about other experiences and information on this topic, visit Intracervical Insemination.
Summary
In a heartfelt encounter at a familiar hospital, a mother reflects on the significance of remembering her deceased children, Clara and Ethan, who were part of her family along with their living sister, Lily. This poignant moment highlights the importance of acknowledging loss and the enduring presence of those we’ve loved, even if only for a short time.