Still Standing Magazine

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Twitter
  • About
    • About The Editor
    • Note from the Founder
  • Write For Us & Our Guidelines
  • Advertise
  • Resources
    • Worldwide Mental Health Hotlines/Resources
    • Expressions of Grief
  • Contact Us
    • FAQs
    • Terms of Use/Privacy
  • FAQs
    • Still Standing Commenting
  • Terms of Use/Privacy

April 18, 2020


Comparison And Secrets: Let’s Be Honest About Baby Loss Feelings
Someone will always rank my loss in their minds, deciding for themselves if I have suffered more or less than the woman standing next to me

Morgan McLaverty

Comparison And Secrets: Let’s Be Honest About Baby Loss Feelings Someone will always rank my loss in their minds, deciding for themselves if I have suffered more or less than the woman standing next to me
       

There is this small place inside of me. A quiet place meant for only me. Inside this space, I am free to think about all of the horrible things I would never admit to if asked.

Like how much I want to punch Susie for bragging about how the nurses begged her to come back to give birth again as her delivery ran so smoothly.

Or, how I hate when loss parents, regular parents, pretty much anybody tries to compare scars with me.

“Well, you didn’t lose all your children, so you’re lucky.”

“Can you imagine how hard that must have been, I mean she lost her child AT delivery.”

“At least you never had to watch him suffer.”

The smartass responses to all of these people come long after the interaction is over.

I have long drawn out conversations with the soap dispenser in the shower. Peppering my Pantene Pro-V with snarky answers, I would never dream of implementing in real life.

We all hear, all too often, how we should and should not interact with the grieving.

Even inside the walls of what is deemed appropriate comes the grey area in which a person takes your words and filters them through their lived experiences and comes to a conclusion that either a) you’re a jerk or b) you’re well-intentioned, and I’m just sensitive.

The truth is that loss does not define me.

My two miscarriages and the loss of my third son to stillbirth did redefine me, though.

I may be sensitive; I may hear a regular interaction and only hear the prickle in the words because they sting me personally.

It’s not easy to walk around with an aching heart and to also be tough and unaffected by the words of others.

I’ve stopped attempting to tell people what I need of them – people are who they are.

Someone will always rank my loss in their minds, deciding for themselves if I have suffered more or less than the woman standing next to me.

Someone will always want me to see the bright side even if I already feel as if I am living optimistically.

And yes, that damn Susie is going to keep popping out kids, effortlessly leaving the hospital baby in hand and a pat on the back.

It’s my duty as a person (with the added stress of being a loss mom) to filter through the noise, to behave like water on a duck. Not only in the way it repels it from its feathers (letting the crappy things people say roll off of me so to speak), but also in the way that it keeps pedaling frantically underwater, efforts going unnoticed by those who dare to glimpse (maintain calm while simultaneously maneuvering life in grief).

I’m not sure if many women feel the same way, feel the eyes of those around them scanning them every so often to ensure all is well during a crowded baby shower.

Or if they feel judged and measured against someone else’s pain.

All I know is I seek to live a life well lived and to do that; I need to quiet the noise.

I think a logical idea would be to try to rid myself of the small space in me that houses all the words I wish I said in defense of myself, of my child, of the choices I have made in grief.

Or perhaps, I will just be honest here in this post, allowing everyone to see the place that hardly ever lives in the daylight to help maybe other loss moms feel less alone.

– I hate that I was happily smiling on the drive into the hospital before I lost my son.

– I will always be jealous or envious when I hear about smooth/uncomplicated deliveries.

– I believe in my heart that there is no suffering that can be measured and I hate when people try to compare my loss to any other scenario.

– I get angry when I think about the fact that I will live my entire life missing my son.

Do you have any secret thoughts that need sharing instead of taking up permanent residence in your quiet place?

Morgan McLaverty

Morgan McLaverty, a world traveler that has taken roots in southern New Jersey where her husband Sean was born and raised. Now, a stay at home mother, she cares for her three living boys; Gavin Cole(5), Rowan Grey(3) and Holden Nash (1). She also is a mother to Lennon Rhys. Lennon was born still at thirty one weeks and five days. His loss spurred on a need in Morgan to write her feelings, share her grief and help others in the process. She hopes her words will help shed the silence and taboo nature of discussing pregnancy and child loss.

Related


       

Archives

Copyright © Still Standing Magazine, LLC
To inquire on republishing posts or for public use other than social sharing, please contact the editor.
Print for personal use only.
Print Friendly, PDF & Email

Previous Post: « What Grief Does To Us
Next Post: Why Making The Effort With A Bereaved Parent Matters So Much »

Reader Interactions

{Your Thoughts} Cancel reply

Comments

  1. Kristen Riecke says

    April 18, 2020 at 2:19 pm

    THIS!!! Thank you for your honesty!! We just need to hold space for all the grieving. By not judging it but making room for it in our hearts, minds, and lives!

    Reply Report comment
  2. Jennifer Matthews says

    April 21, 2020 at 3:31 pm

    You truly narrated everything that swirls around in my head… Every. Single. Day. Thank you for your words – it is comforting (for lack of a better word) to know I’m not alone in this world of grief from loss.

    Reply Report comment
    • Morgan McLaverty says

      April 21, 2020 at 9:50 pm

      Thank you, I am so happy you found comfort in my words.

      You are most definitely not alone in your grief (even if it feels that way sometimes)! I am so very sorry for your loss.

      Reply Report comment
  3. Mama to Christine says

    August 7, 2020 at 5:56 pm

    Oh my gosh!!! What u wrote is so on point! No one can judge how much pain someone else is in. It’s unfair to everyone. I knw tht having a child tht is no longer living hurts like hell! I knw the stages of grief tht the Mamas & Daddies go through but I can’t judge the depths of grief for any of them. I only knw my grief. I hate the fact tht I will live my life without my daughter! Thk u for this article. Peace.

    Reply Report comment

Primary Sidebar

W E L C O M E
Founded in 2012, Still Standing Magazine, LLC, shares stories from around the world of writers surviving the aftermath of loss, infertility - and includes information on how others can help. This is a page for all grieving parents. If you grieve the loss of your child, no matter the circumstances, you are welcome here.
Subscribe To Our New Posts
Advertising
Write For Us
Contact Us
FAQ

Join Our Online Support Group -
T O G E T H E R
  • About
  • Write For Us & Our Guidelines
  • Advertise
  • Resources
  • Contact Us
  • FAQs
  • Terms of Use/Privacy

Footer

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Twitter

Categories

Recently Posted

  • Ukraine: Bearing Witness In The Grief Of War
  • Lives Lost – The Recent Catastrophic Changes To Cancer Care During Covid-19
  • When You Lose The Person You Love Before They Die
  • Redefining Christmas And The New Year
  • Dear Meghan

Copyright © 2022 · Still Standing Magazine, LLC