Recently, our babysitter advised us that she would be moving to another state in February. This revelation led us back to Care.com in search of another sitter for our twin girls.
I posted our position and scrolled through possible candidates, sending them messages about our job in case they were interested.
I clicked on one candidate and saw a message from a previous communication with her. Then I read the message.
“I am so sorry. I wish for nothing but the best for you all.”
February 20, 2017, the day after my son Asher was born.
Apparently, I had been in contact with this woman about watching Asher. Then I had to inform this complete stranger that the position she was interested in was no longer available because our child had died. The message was her response to that information.
Talk about a slap in the face with grief.
The day after my child was born, instead of telling possible babysitter candidates that our baby arrived early and we needed care sooner, I told them that our son had died and the position was no longer available.
The day that we went into the hospital because of Asher’s lack of movement, we had an interview scheduled with a candidate. I had no way of reaching her, other than through Care.com, because we already hashed out the meeting place and time.
When I finally looked at my phone after being admitted, it was slightly passed our meeting time. She had messaged saying she was waiting at the coffee shop.
I had to respond with the fact that I was in the hospital because our baby died.
This is just another experience that comes along with having a third-trimester stillbirth.
We were planning for a very near future that never came.
We looked at child care options for our son. We posted the position when we hit the third trimester. (Obviously, this baby was coming home with us, since we made it this far into the pregnancy.)
We were ready to bring home a baby.
Instead, we went home to a house with a completed baby’s room without a baby.
Our lives completely changed but not in the way they were supposed to.
Seeing that message brought me right back to that day, the day after my first child was born.
Immediately after being discharged from the hospital, we went straight to the funeral home to sign papers for our son’s cremation.
Neighbors dropped off meals and condolences instead of congratulations.
I sat numb and in shock about what transpired in the prior 48 hours while dealing with the physical aftermath of delivering a child.
I watched the clock anxiously waiting for night to come so I could go to bed. This message came through my phone.
Instantly, that all came rushing back. Grief slapped me in the face and took my breath away when I saw that message, almost three years after receiving it.
That’s the thing about grief.
After loss it becomes a constant companion, lingering in the background most days.
Then on other days, something can trigger an acute attack that knocks you off your feet, no matter how much time has passed.
Amy Lied is a wife and a mother to her son, Asher, who was inexplicably born still on February 19th, 2017 and twin daughters. Before losing Asher, she suffered a miscarriage and struggled with unexplained infertility. She has documented her journey from the beginning of her infertility struggles on her blog, Doggie Bags Not Diaper Bags. She is also a co-founder of The Lucky Anchor Project , an online resource for loss families that houses an Etsy store whose profits are donated to loss family non-profit organizations. She hopes to help others by sharing her journey as she continues to navigate the bumpy road that is life after loss.