Being around the online pregnancy and mommy community can be bittersweet, it mirrors life because it is life. With each setback and loss in another family’s life I am reminded of the losses my family suffered. I try not to feel traumatized by the deaths I experienced, as an adult I sought bereavement counseling in the hopes that I would not be a basket case when I became pregnant and eventually a mother. Now that I am pregnant I really try not to dwell on the what-ifs with my child who I carry.
The norm for me was an acute understanding of death from a young age. At the age of 1 I had an older half-sister die on the operating table during her 7th surgery to repair a heart condition she was born with, she was 15. Her death darn near broke my father’s heart, she was not his biological daughter, but they shared a special bond he never really recovered from. She was everyone’s favorite and every November my family speaks of her death like it happened recently. She was always sick so her death made a little sense no matter how heart-breaking it was.
At the age of 2 my great-grandmother passed away in our home. Her death was coming. She did not suffer. She passed peacefully, my mother was her caretaker while she was pregnant with my brother.
Just before my 3rd birthday came the shock that has affected me to this day. It was my little brother, and I am the one who found him, this is my first memory. I guess I would wake up early in the mornings, go to his crib, tickle his feet, wake him up, then wake up everyone in the house because the baby was up. I went to his crib and he was discolored, his feet were cold, I did not go get my parents, in retrospect I wish I would have. I went to get my sister who I shared a room with and dragged her to his nursery, her freakout was horrible. It alarmed my parents who came running in. From there the day grew more cruel.
My healthy 9-month old baby brother who was already pulling himself up on the couch was gone, SIDS. This was in 1978 when SIDS was not really well known. With all the chaos going on at our house a neighbor took me to her home. When the police and coroner arrived most of the neighbors were outside. My neighbor followed suit and took me outside. I was still in my pajamas, one of my big sister’s shirts, it was long and I was wearing a pair of shorts. This was August in the San Fernando Valley so I have no idea what time it was but I figure pretty early, it was hot, but not scorching hot yet. There was still a good deal of shade in front of our home to where the emergency vehicles were.
My mother was escorted out of our home holding my brother flanked by police officers on both sides. She handed the baby to the coroner. She has told me she refused to let anyone else take his body out since she is the one who brought him into our home. Immediately after she handed over his body both officers took her to their squad car and put her in handcuffs. They eased her into the car. It was then that I noticed my father was in the other car. I started crying really hard when I saw the police had my parents. It was much later that I learned that medicine hardly understood SIDS in the 70s so my parents were accused of killing their son.
The aftermath for my family was horrible. My parents were practicing Catholics but I think the loss of their healthy son made them turn their back on God. They turned their backs on each other. They were basically numb and trying to go about a zombie routine in our home. I grew up feeling like I was bothersome and did my best to stay out of their way, it was all sadness and misplaced emotions all the time. This happened with my birthday around the corner, so the anniversary of his death was never a time to celebrate. My parents did not do it on purpose but we skipped most of my birthdays because they were busy grieving, I learned to not dare ask for anything. My poor sister really went off the deep-end and became extremely violent, especially towards me. It was years later in a counseling session at juvenile hall that she admitted she beat the crap out of me as a way to protect me. In her mind those she loved would leave her, that is what took our big sister and then our little brother. I was physically abused pretty bad by her, my parents were too busy off in their unhandled grief to ever notice what she was doing to me. As an adult she still is lost to us and I wonder if I would have woken up my parents instead of her if she would be more emotionally stable.
For me I grew up getting death. It happened. In high school I volunteered for an AIDS hospice where I would have to check a notebook each day I entered just in case my patients had passed away since our last visit. I would speak to bereavement counselors monthly to check in as well as attending the monthly memorial service for everyone that passed. It was a routine, a sad, uncomplicated routine of what went on inside this building. I did not seek out bereavement counseling for my brother’s death though, at least not yet.
I love kids, but did not talk about being a parent growing up. Kids scared me. As a teen and young adult I would sometimes babysit. Parents did not know it but I would have a level of anxiety if the child was under one. I would be checking to make sure they were breathing when they were sleeping at least every 10 minutes. I did not realize how stressed I was over this situation until I saw the movie Trainspotting. I did not read the Irving Welch novel beforehand so was not aware that Baby Dawn would die. When that scene showed I gasped and had a panic attack. There were some similarities with my brother. I had nightmares from that movie for a long time. I did eventually seek out online support for SIDS decades after my brother’s death, and it was helpful. So is my faith. So is that I have read SIDS literature whenever it comes my way since junior high. For me it has been a long road from my first memory to being ready to become a mom, there was a lot of trauma in there.
This is a long post, and no one may read it. This blog really is for my thoughts primarily that I don’t want to put in the journal I am making for my baby. However if you have read this far I just want to leave you with a message about healthy bereavement, seek help if you have the misfortune of losing someone close. Mourning is horrible. Death is horrible. However the living are left and we need all the tools we have at our disposal to be here for each other. My family fell to shit and to this day do not know how to support each other, we have unhealthy relationships with one another. All families are going to have some level of dysfunction, but you don’t have to act like you hate each other because you are too emotional to deal with life.
Beautifully written post – though these events must have been awful to go through.
I am in the exact opposite position as you. I have never had anyone close to me pass away. All of my grandparents and both of my parents are still alive. I have never had to learn to grieve. I am lucky in this respect, but at the same time I worry about what would happen if I were forced to face SIDS, or what kind of an example I will be able to set for my child when a close family member or friend dies. I will be learning about grieving as they are.
This is a powerful post and definitely something to think about. Like the PP, I don't have a lot of experience dealing with death. My grandmother died when I was 10 but that's it. I'm scared to death about how I would handle a loss.
And I agree about the online pregnancy community. I found a board I loved but I also hated early in my pregnancy. There were quite a few miscarriages and it made me realize how fragile the whole pregnancy thing is. I was almost scared to be happy. Even now, hearing stories like your brother's freak me out. I feel like I will never be able to relax as a mother sometimes! I worry about SIDS now but that worry will be replaced by other worries as my son ages…even when he's an adult, I'll always worry. Motherhood is tough.
I have very quickly become a fan of your blog. Your post mirror my thinking and my life in so many ways. My daughter in her 3 years on earth has been witness to more death than many of my adult friends. Her aunt, my sister, died unexpectedly in March of this year. She had just turned 36 less than two weeks earlier. Then in May of this year, my father-in-law, my daughter's only grandfather died after a long battle with numerous illnesses.
In my life, I have experienced so much death and loss- my paternal grandparents, my maternal grandparents, childhood friends,HS classmates, very close cousins, my dad, my sister, my father-in-law…including several early term pregnancy loss and a later one as well. I was glued to communities like babycenter and now as to blogs. I have a hard time reading about loss. I went into my pregnancy with my daughter without the innocence that most women have. It was so hard. But you are right, having the tools to help you cope are so important.
Thank you for your kind comments. I was not expecting anyone to read this post. My hope is that everyone deals with death in a healthy way whether you encountered it at an early age or have yet to have a close experience with it.
This post was inspired by @kristinebrite who recently lost her little #Cora and within days was asking the twitter community for support resources. I admire her deeply for the strength she is showing at this time.
I just read your post sissy… and see that I am still learning about you. It is such a miracle that you've turned out such a beautiful person. And don't second guess the past and dwell on "what-ifs". Your sister would not likely be any different a person now if you'd gone to a different rooms. You can't think like that or blame yourself for who she is. You're wonderful and beautiful and I love you.
I read every single word. You are so brave for even continuing to follow me on Twitter. My jaw dropped when I read about sister. Thank you for sharing with people. Thank you, thank you, thank you.