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Guest Post by Jana
It was about 24 hours after our 21 day old was admitted to the hospital.
Time was standing still and flying by at the same time. Things were swirling around our heads – thoughts, fears, confusion, exhaustion – it was too much to handle. We sat side by side on the tiny, scratchy sofa in the room forever dubbed the “Oh Sh*t Room” and listened to a doctor tell us that our son would die.
I remember, very vividly, two things after that and then things went right back to being a blur.
The first is that when those words were spoken, that he had suffered too many strokes and was brain dead, I gasped and made noise that sounded like something out of a horror movie. I heard and saw myself from above my body. I could see it happening and couldn’t stop it. My husband made the same type of noises. Nothing was held back. It was a moment I wish I could wash from my brain.
The second, and likely most important thing I remember, is that once the doctor handed us a fresh box of Kleenex and left the Oh Sh*t Room, we gathered ourselves enough to form a coherent thought. The very first thing my husband said to me as he gripped my hands and we held on to each other for dear life, was “Jana, we’re NOT going to be a statistic.”
Our first son, Charlie, died 3 days later. He was 24 days old.
I honestly don’t know what the statistics are on divorce after the loss of a child anymore. Depending on where you look, you see everything from 15% to 90%. I’m sure it’s somewhere in the middle of that. At any rate, the death of a child is sometimes a breaking point for a family. We have been determined from day one not to let that happen.
How do we keep from being that statistic? We attribute it to three different things.
Jason and I grieve together. While we are supportive in the different ways that we grieve individually, we take time to recognize that we needed to be angry together and let each other off the hook when we were feeling guilty.
We grieve openly – even 9 years later. I’m sure it makes people uncomfortable, but both of us talk about him often. Holding on to the few memories we have is important, and when others remember him, that gives us a huge sense of peace.
We include our son, Henry in conversations about Charlie. Henry is very protective of his brother and tells everyone he knows about him. Instilling a love between them is very important to our family dynamic.
Jason and I share one of the most beautiful and most heartbreaking moments any two people can: the act of both bringing a child into the world and holding him in our arms as he left this world.
It’s a connection that will be the tie that binds our relationship til death do us part.
You can find Jana on her blog, and read more about Charlie’s story here.
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I am so sorry about Charlie. Thank you for sharing your story. It’s so nice to hear about marriages that grow together instead of apart. Thanks again!
Thank you. I can’t say we haven’t had our ups and downs, but we’ve definitely grown together through our grief.
” Jason and I share one of the most beautiful and most heartbreaking moments any two people can: the act of both bringing a child into the world and holding him in our arms as he left this world.”
This one large reason that I could not imagine ever being separated from my husband- we are the only people who have a shared memory of my daughter. She was gone so quickly. Who else will ever understand the depth of losing her- not losing a baby, but losing her, specifically. He is my memory keeper.
Exactly. Not a soul will ever be able to share THAT bond with you. I’m sorry for your loss.
I’m so sorry about little Charlie. I’m glad you have been able to be each others support through it all. Losing a child is bad enough without losing the one who’s suppose to be your best friend in the process. Keep taking care of one another and, thanks for sharing your story.
Thank you so much.
Your experience with your husband gives me hope….and tells me we are not alone and are on the “right” path….
Just keep that line of communication open. Walk through your grief and don’t try to go around it. You can do this. ((hugs))
Thank you so much for your post – I really needed it today. My husband and I lost our daughter in March and we “celebrated” our 1 year anniversary just two weeks later. There are so many sources our there telling us that our marriage is now likely to fail, but like you, we refuse to be a statistic. We talk (and often cry) about our daughter together every day, and maybe I’m naive, but I feel that her life and death has brought us closer together. God bless your family and thank you for encouraging those of us just starting this journey. <3
Don’t listen to people/sources who tell you you won’t make it. You will. Love on each other and keep the line of communication open. ((hugs)) I’m so sorry for your loss. Sending love your way.
Thank you for sharing your story. It took me back to the painful moment in the hospital we learned our 14 year old son, Austin, was gone. I too grabbed my husband’s face, locked eyes and said, “this will NOT break us.”. It seemed odd at the time, that I would even think of such. But through the struggle of grief the past nearly four years I see why. It’s only through God and our commitment and love for each other we’ve remained whole. We will forever miss Austin but our marriage is stronger, despite the statistics.
I remember thinking it felt odd at the time. But it’s interesting to know that we/y’all aren’t alone in knowing that this CAN break you. But knowing that you don’t WANT it to is key. I’m sorry for the loss of your son. My heart breaks for you. Stay strong, friend.
Our “Oh Sh*t” room was our son’s NICU room. Where we heard all of the bad news and held our son as he passed away at 1 month of age. I can remember every detail of that room. I wish I could forget some things. Things that are too painful and overwhelming. The thought of being a statistic has rolled across my mind as well but we are doing everything we can to stay together and support each other in our grief. Thanks for sharing your story!
Oh, my heart aches for you and your family. Keep that communication going and go THROUGH the grief, not around it.
Oh, Jana! This is heart wrenching and beautiful at the same time. I am so sorry for loss. Tragedy can and often does tear families apart. But it doesn’t have to. It can draw you closer together. I’m glad that is the path you and Jason committed to.
I remember years ago I used to babysit for a couple that had lost an infant. Her presence was everywhere in their home, and in everything they did. They spoke of her often. To be honest, I found it strange at the time. Now that I am a parent, I completely understand. Your child is always part of your heart.
Thank you, Elizabeth. Isn’t it funny (not haha funny) how we look back at things like that? I babysat for a family who had lost a child and remember thinking the same thing about things around their house. Now it’s normal.
I remember thinking the same thing when our son died also. I’ve always heard the divorce rate is higher for people who have lost a child and for people who have multiples. He was one of our triplets so I felt we were extra doomed. It’s only been 2 years for us, but I feel like I don’t really understand why you would even want to get divorced, don’t get me wrong, we have our hard times, but he is the only person who truly understands and misses Nathan the way I do.
That’s how I feel, too. We share that piece of our stories that nobody else will ever understand. I’m so sorry for your loss. Love to your family.
I am so sorry for the loss of Charlie.
Matt is the only person in this world who knows the depth of the pain in my heart after our daughter Ariana passed away. For that reason I can’t imagine living a single day in this world without him. Some marriages don’t make it through, if mine didn’t then I wouldn’t.
::nods:: I get that completely. Sending love to you and your family.
My husband Ian and I have also had our relationship deepen after the loss of our son at 22 weeks. I have read a lot of things saying that men just don’t grieve the same way that women do, etc, and to not expect “too much” from your partner after a loss. Those authors and / or experts miss the vital point that people everywhere grieve differently, regardless of their gender. When you find someone who can love and laugh and grieve in ways that are compatible to your own, you will do all of these things together. And you will be drawn together even tighter, again and again.
I am sorry for your loss. But I am so happy that you and your husband hold and honor your son together. That is truly beautiful.
Much love.