This has been a rough week. First, I get complemented on my super weight loss - yes folks, the miscarriage and infant loss diet, not highly recommended to anyone with a heart, but it's highly effective! Shoot me.
Then I have to fight with the insurance company over their rejection of my claim - it was their mistake and they are fixing it. But, when my doctor's office tells me that I have to deal with the insurance company myself, I completely lose my shit and the little bit of composure that I have managed to muster up for walking into preggo central - the site of my three failed pregnancies and the one that turned out great. So, they have to put me in a room right away, because there really isn't any good place to put a crying woman in an OB/GYN's office. -- There's a hint to all of you women tired of waiting while your doctor runs late - have a breakdown. Then we get the autopsy report and, needless to say, there really isn't anything there that might help us going forward. I am hoping that there is more information to come, but it really just seems that my poor little Shannon had a terrible cord accident and that was that. I wish there was something that I could do differently next time, anything that I could use to learn from what happened, anything.... but, there's not. All we get is the hope that lightning doesn't strike twice in same place.... not too helpful.
So, I am wondering where some of my friends went. It's interesting who rises to the occassion when you have a loss like this. People who I thought didn't like me, or who I haven't talked to in forever or who were mad at me over a stupid thing from months ago have, in many cases, proved to be the more supportive people through my loss. Friends who I haven't seen in years, or who I see at college alumni things, people who didn't even know I was pregnant have been so much more kind and loving by reaching out than people that we've known forever and who are among our 'closest' friends. That is not to say that some of our closest friends have not been lovely and supportive, but c'mon? Strangers have told me that they were so sorry for my loss.
Is it so hard to say 'I am so sorry for your loss' that people who we've known for our entire lives choose to not call, e-mail, write or anything? It must be. I don't get it. I lost my child. I don't have some kind of contagious disease that is going to cause your nose to fall off. I just want to know that you give a shit, you don't even have to want to listen to me because I may not want to talk to you. But it's nice to say 'hey, I'm here', just the same. Say "I am sorry." You can even finish the sentence with "I don't know what else to say" and walk away. That's enough. It's not a lot to ask. If my grandmother died, you'd say "I'm sorry for your loss." Is this different?
If you don't think that people who have suffered a terrible loss will not remember that you weren't there for them, think again. I will always remember those who were there for me when I needed them. I've already lost one of the most important people in my life - my beautiful daughter. Do friends have to go too?
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