In moments of deep empathy, we often find ourselves uttering the phrase, “I could never endure that.” Each of us has experienced this thought, especially when faced with the heartbreaking stories of child loss. As we brush our child’s hair or press a kiss to their forehead, the mere idea of another parent losing their child sends chills down our spine, prompting us to instinctively distance ourselves from that grim reality. We recite the mantra: “I could never survive that.”
Seven months and fourteen days ago, I became a mother for the first time. After a grueling three-day labor, I held my red-faced, hefty baby boy on my swollen belly. In that moment, my life pivoted around his tiny face, which bore my features and my partner’s eyes. Despite the exhaustion that came with sleepless nights and endless crying, I found an indescribable love for this child that eclipsed everything else.
When my close friend’s teenage brother passed away recently, witnessing his mother’s uncontrollable grief at the funeral shook me to my core. I looked at my precious baby and, in a fleeting moment of solidarity with mothers everywhere, thought, “I could never endure that.” Almost instantly, regret washed over me.
My parents faced this unimaginable loss when I was just four years old; my sister succumbed to SIDS. Growing up, I witnessed my parents navigate the depths of their sorrow. They learned to rediscover joy, to laugh again, and to embrace life with love for me and my other sister, who came along four years later. Each Halloween passed with a mix of sadness and remembrance, and every June brought family celebrations in honor of my sister’s birthday, a bittersweet acknowledgment of her absence.
As I cradle my child to sleep, I now comprehend my parents’ grief from the perspective of a parent. Instead of declaring that I could never survive such a tragedy, I feel immense gratitude that they did. When we collectively claim we could never endure such pain, we unintentionally cast shadows on those who have survived. It implies that their love was somehow lesser, laden with guilt for having lived through the experience.
Of course, it’s human to recoil from the thoughts of loss and to express our fears. However, before you echo the familiar refrain of disbelief, consider holding back. This expression can be perceived as an unintentional slight against mothers who have borne such loss, suggesting that their love and resilience are somehow diminished.
Her sorrow may resonate with us deeply, but her circumstances are hers alone. Rather than distancing ourselves from her pain, we should extend empathy and support. She needs love and connection during her struggle to navigate through grief.
If you’re seeking deeper insights into the journey of parenthood and loss, explore our other articles, such as this one on the complexities of home insemination and the emotional landscape that accompanies it. For couples exploring their fertility journey, this source provides invaluable guidance. Additionally, when delving into pregnancy and home insemination, Healthline offers excellent resources.
In summary, while it’s natural to fear the unimaginable, we must be careful with our words and thoughts. Instead of declaring that we could never survive such a tragedy, let us recognize the strength of those who have, and offer our love and support.