I have never been one to wonder “Why me?”. Maybe because there is no good answer, or because you can get a lot further when you aren’t walking backwards.
The question haunted my mind often in the early days of grief, when I couldn’t see my way out, but I’ve never come back to it.
This Christmas, knee deep in wrapping paper and the lullaby of laughter, I watched scenes unfold.
Our scenes.
Scenes we wrapped and dreamt of and tied delicately, and I found myself offering up another question-never-to-be-answered to the universe.
Why not me?
Why not us?
Why can’t we have her?
Why can’t my daughter ooh and ahh over boxes of matching dolls, trading so her sister can have the one in purple?
Or my boys get dragged into tea parties by two princesses, plastic heels clicking against tile?
Or my husband.
My husband…
I see the twinge of sadness as he reads to them, the swirl of bittersweet when he dances with his daughter and the sigh of grief in his shoulders when all is still.
He would be an amazing Daddy to one more.
Why can’t he have her too?
I know many of you are getting ready to comment and tell me my daughter is in a better place.
But as her mother, sitting in the home that was meant for her, love overflowing from every bedtime bath, back yard swing and peanut butter and jelly sandwich without crust…
there is no place more perfect than right here.
Comments
Powered by Facebook Comments
This is a beautiful post…and such beautifuul words. I used to ask WHY quite a bit. I think I still do sometimes…why did it have to take us so long to get PG, why an IVF, why did I have to be so much older when it happened…I understand the questions. My life is better with the twins in it…they were meant to be, but that 3rd child I would have loved, the one I wantd to have the “choice” to have….I miss the idea of that child. So I understand and I am sending you lots of love instead of an answer to “why?” Xoxo
My heart aches for you when I read posts like this. I’m so sorry, Jessica, I know there is absolutely nothing I can say to fill that gap or take away from that sense of loss… but I would never say those words to you. Just know that like so many of your readers, I am here, too.
Xoxo
Thank you, means so much just to know you are here.
All I can do is send you big hugs.
I know you love her and you’d have provided the most wonderful home. There’s no doubt of that at all. I don’t know why either. I wish we didn’t even have to ask.
so beautifully written…as usual…
and heart wrenching…as usual…
What better place than with her family indeed?
I wish you did not have to ask why and that Hadley was home with you, your husband and her siblings – there is no better place for her. Sending you peace and hugs. Take care.
I’ve never been a “Why me?” person either, but sometimes, you just have to ask. Even though you know the answer or there isn’t one. It’s okay to ask.
Much love to you, my friend. xoxo
I know what you mean!
We lost our Baby C at 10 weeks, and while I was devastated, the world kept rambling on. People ask all the time, can you imagine what it would be like to have THREE? (Like it’s a terrible thing.)
And all I can think is, yes. Yes, I can absolutely imagine every second of it. And there’s nothing in this world I want more. Thank you for your honesty in this post.
Anything I write will be inadequate. I’m so sorry.
All i can say is….I Agree. Why not you? Love and hugs always.
So gorgeously expressed. Why is the perfect question. I wish I had an answer, but there isn’t one, is there?
It’s a testament to your strength and generosity that you resist this question as much as you do. I’m sure it’s excruciating to let it in every once in a while but I also suspect it is part of the healing process. Wishing you as much comfort and support as you need to move through it.
I won’t even pretend to understand what it is that you are going through and the kind of grief that you feel. But, having suffered any early onset miscarriage and struggling with not being able to have a second child, I do empathize with that feeling of “why.” Why not us? Why can’t we have another baby? Why can’t we give our son the brother or sister that he keeps asking for? Saying a prayer for you and for your family. No parent should ever lose a child.
It is so hard to have unanswered questions, I felt the same during our struggles with fertility. After a while it is difficult to see people get pregnant so easily when you’ve been struggling and so hard not to ask “why not me?” Always here if you need me Courtney. Thank you for your support.
You write of her, and each time I read about her, and I’m hit hard.
And I think, will I ever get used to her story?
No. Never.
Every time I read it, I wonder, “how would I ever survive the loss of my baby?”
I feel the same, even though I know it is my story, I will never get used to the fact that it is.
Because my words fail me here, I will just remind you that I love you, my friend. So very much.
Thank you for continuing to write about her, for telling your family’s story.
I know. Why? It’s not fair and not right.
Words can’t say how sorry I am for your loss, my friend. I can only imagine how hard this is at the holidays.
Breaks my heart. I hope these feelings of emptiness will someday subside. 🙁
I just love your heart and your beautiful honesty. I see places and moments where my (one and only) sister should be and the ache is so intense I sometimes cannot breathe into the next second.
I can fall down to the spirals of why as well…why was I born with a disease that only affects 500 in the US? But then I also have to go the flip side and wonder…why am I lucky to have another day? Why was I so lucky as to have one miracle girl? There are never easy answers and goodness dear, you are incredible.
xoxo.
I wish I could do more to help. This grief is so hard and there are moments that come out of nowhere to remind us that what we really want is our babies here, with us, in our arms. The why questions do not go away, despite our many blessings.
I am here if you need any support or someone to talk to.
I wish I had the perfect words to make it all better for you. ….I don’t. All I have are heartfelt wishes for strength and peace and cyber hugs for you. I know it’s not enough, but they are yours anyway.
This post is so so so lovely. Why not here, with you where she belongs. So fair and so real. While I did almost lose my daughter a few times during her tulmutuous NICU stay and she now has been diagnosed with CP, I have spent a lot of time looking at the brighter side and our situations cannot (cannot cannot) be compared the emotions of why not is sometimes the same. Why can’t she be fine as she is. Why can’t she be like her twin brother who is walking and talking and came through the experience just fine developmentally. Why can’t she have it easier. Not have to be pushed so very hard as a two year old who is developmentally equivalent to a 8 month old.
The grief that must quietly sneak up on you in the most unexpected moments…I cannot imagine other than I stared down that part of the road without having to walk it. I hope that writing this was cathartic in it’s own way and so happy for you in a weird way that you took the time and put it out there…why not?
I know what you mean Shannon, I feel the same about my daughter with autism. I wish life didn’t have to be so hard for her. But, as she has gotten older I see how much she has taught the people who have crossed her path and I think maybe there is a reason after all.
I have no words.
But I did want you to know that I read.
And that my heart is with you.
Piggybacking on Galit’s comment because I feel the same way. I just wanted you to know I was here and that my heart goes out to you.
Jess, you are so amazing. That is why I love coming here. Thank you for sharing your heart with us. I know Carsyn is hear with us but I look at other families with kids carsyn’s age and I ask, why can’t that be me? Why can’t he be reaching those milestones? It seems selfish, I know, but still hard not to think about these things.
The “best place” would be with you and her family that loves her.
Thinking of you!
I think you’re more than entitled to your share of whys. I think any parent who’s lost a child is. Go ahead and ask them. And know that it’s OK.
I hate that “better place” phrase. I hated it when my grandfather died a few years ago and I don’t like it any better now.
Not because I don’t believe it or that it doesn’t give me some peace. But because right here with us feels so perfect that I think that’s where they should be.
I’m so sorry that I don’t have better words or more comfort for you. Just know that I’m thinking of you, sweet friend. Always.
Thank you so much Krista, I think that phrase is sort of the “I don’t know what else to say” option.
I don’t have the right words for this.
But I am so moved by your love.
If I were you, I’d be asking why? all the time. I’m asking why for you! It’s not right…not at all.
XO
You are so right.
There isn’t an answer.
There isn’t a comforting sentance that I can offer.
Just know that every one of us is holding you tight.
One of best friends lost a daughter at birth and I know she has these same feelings, I mean how could she not? We saw their family over the holidays and even though they have their three boys I always feel like someone is missing and of course she does, every day.
I’m SO sorry for your loss, my friend. Please know that. Much love to you all, missing your sweet, precious girl.
I find that there are moments, and it might be big moments like Christmas, or it might be little moments, like talking about our days at dinner, when it hits. They “Why?”. And it hurts. And it’s normal. And I think it’s a grieving process that will happen for the rest of our lives. But it also keeps them there with us. Hugs to you.
I will not say any of those things. I will say that you have every right to ask those questions. My friend lost her daughter that would have been a few months younger than my son. Sometimes even I question why she is not here running around and playing. Why are they not the best of friends? If I can do that I will say that you have way more right than me.
Jessica, you’re writing is absolutely beautiful… and brings me to tears every time. Hugs to you and your family. I can’t even pretend to imagine the pain. You are so very strong, though and loved across the blogosphere.
It is not fair. 🙁 xoxo
Oh girl. I’m never one to say anything like a child is in a better place or that everything happens for a reason or that God has a plan.
Because well… I feel like those are empty words and they don’t comfort.
I haven’t gone through anything like what you have. But, when my family has our struggles, I sort of want to punch people who say anything like that. B/c WHY CAN’T it be the way we wish? I’ll never understand.
These questions have no answers and yet we ask them over and over. You are a mom – it’s your prerogative.
I love what you said about not walking backwards, but we all do it from time to time. Hugs to you all.
My heart surely understands yours sweet beautiful girl. God bless you Jessica.
So love your honesty and realness. I get where you’re at. Here is the one place we want our loved ones to be. Honestly, the only place.
Stretching out my arms and giving you a big, virtual hug.
On a different note, love the photo of your little ones in the snow. So awesome!
I’m so sorry. I will never claim to understand. But I can feel your grief in this post. And I can completely understand asking why. Not always but at certain times when you feel that missing puzzle piece the most.
Jessica, this is a beautiful and painful and wrenching post. Thank you for your courage in offering us your words and your questions. I am holding you in my heart today. xo
Jessica, There is no better place than with your family. I really never got that phrase as a sign of comfort…especially to someone who has lost a child. Don’t ever think that you can’t ask the why’s or the why boys. You are her mommy. You have that right. Much love to you!
I find that the “Why’s,” “Why Not’s” and “Should’ves” all run together…all without an answer and sometimes not worth the heartbreak of the question. One thing is for sure, there IS no better place that right here. I share in your sadness and send you strength.
I’m so sorry for your pain. Know that by talking about it, you give a voice to those feeling the same, but can’t share it. Hugs and love.
I hear you Jessica. Sending love from a mom missing children as well. xxo
Oh I understand too well. I’m sorry we are in this place together. xoxo
I am so sorry Jessica. I so understand all your questioning why. Prayers for comfort friend.
You are so right. I lost a good friend over the summer and I find myself asking the same question. She has four beautiful children that she won’t raise and I am often asking why. It is so very unfair.
My heart breaks for you. I don’t even know what to say.
She should be with you.
Oh Jessica, I can totally understand why you’d ask that. “Why” is a question you can’t really know the answer to. Maybe there was a reason you’ll come to know one day, and maybe not. But “why not” – there really is no acceptable answer to that, is there?
That question is just so full of raw pain, and perfectly justified. Sending love and peace and rainbows.
If only words could comfort your loss. Time can make it soften, but never leave. When we ask “why?” no answer will suffice. But maybe, I believe, if you ask her, she will whisper it in your ear and you will know. It won’t make it any less painful, but might offer a sense of temporary peace. Sending you hugs and warm thoughts…
Tears and love. That is all I have to offer right now.
So true my friend. She deserves you. Hugs and love to you. Always. xo
Simply, *hugs*
I don’t have words to comfort or answer this, but you are so right. Better place? Maybe in a way, but the RIGHT place would be with you and the rest of her family. Hugs to you always.
I agree. She deserves to be with you and you all deserve to have her. I’m so sorry you don’t. Hang in there. Thinking of you.
Jessica,
I can’t imagine how this must feel. I don’t want to.I’m sure no parent ever wants to know this sorrow. I’m not going to tell you that she is in a better place because, as a Mommy,I’m not sure that would ease my pain any and I am sure that well meaning people have said this to you a million times over. I am going to say this, from getting to know you on your blog, you seem like an absolutely amazing woman. Your strength astonishes me. Your children are so blessed to have such a caring,loving and embrace the moment kind of mother. You are present and make every moment count. I know you miss having your daughter in your arms but she is always with you, in your heart and you are with her, in her soul.
I am so very sorry that your family had to experience this loss and my thoughts and prayers are with you today.
Jessica, thank you for sharing so intimately and honestly with such eloquence. I wish things were different. XO
I don’t know why either Jessica. It’s a question I do think about perhaps because I have been fortunate to not experience that pain myself. I am so happy to know you and your beautiful story.
Xoxo
This is beautiful and heartbreaking. I am so sorry that she isn’t with all of you (in the physical sense). My thoughts are with you and your family. That picture is so sweet!
She should be here, I wish that she were, with her family. It would have been the most perfect place for her, I’m certain.
I’m so sorry Jessica. There is something about Christmas and that seems to make their absence just a little bit more unbearable, if that were even possible. I’ve been missing my little girl a lot lately too, Remembering your beautiful little Hadley xo
Oh, honey. There is no getting over, just through. And now you’ve gotten through another holiday season.
I know that you don’t spend all your time in the sad place, that you revel in your living children, love them completely and are a thoughtful parent, truly present with them. But I also know it always tops out at 99%, because 1% of you (and some moments more) is still in that OTHER room. With her. Always.
Hugs. Just… hugs.
I am like you, I think. I see people with their triplets and think, “Why them? Why not us? Why couldn’t we have Caitlin?”
Hadley and Caitlin are not in a better place, because they are not with us. Little girls should not be up in heaven alone, without their mommies and daddies.
I’m so sorry you are going through this. I wish it would be different for you. No words can heal your heart, but I hope one day the pain will be less, even though the memory stays.
You write so beautifully. Hugs to you and hoping you feel one from her. I know she feels your love.
Oh Jessica…I am so sorry. Sending hugs your way and as always, your writing is simply beautiful.
This was beautifully written yet so heartbreaking. Of course the best place for a child is with their family. I’m so very sorry. Sending you hugs. xoxo
Oh, Jess. We are going through a difficult time, too, and I’m trying not to ask why, but it’s tough. I’m sure there’s a bigger plan, and I have a certain peace in knowing that, but it doesn’t keep me from being sad, angry, frustrated, scared, etc. too. You are entitled to your feelings. Don’t let anyone tell you you’re not. Hugs my friend.
Oh Jessica…you nailed it. What better place for your girl but with her family? It saddens me that people will say that when it is painfully obvious where she should be. Sending hugs…xoxo
There are no words to comfort a mothers grief. I can’t imagine the pain or anguish you must go through missing your baby girl.
My heart breaks for you.
I don’t want to pretend that I have any answers because I don’t. The only thing I can say is that my grandmother lost two children of her own and she said the only thing that helped was time…
My cousin just lost a baby boy. He was born at 23 weeks and didn’t make it. I have seen the uncontrolled pain in her eyes and I ache for her. I pray that you will find peace in your loss.
Sending you and your family my love and prayers.
Oh Jessica. I am so sorry. I am guilty of whys, for sure. But I also have my why not moments too.
Hugs to you.