Still Standing Magazine

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Instagram
  • Twitter
  • About
    • About The Editor
    • Note from the Founder
  • Write For Us & 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

June 16, 2020

To My Sister-In-Law Expecting A Baby

.

To My Sister-In-Law Expecting A Baby
       

I wish I could be happy for you; I really do.

And maybe there is still some part of me that is. I know your baby will be our son’s cousin, and for that alone, I love him.

It’s not your fault, nor his, that he will be born not quite five months after our baby died.

And yet… that fact will change what otherwise would have been an unequivocally delightful moment in our family.

The thing is – I am jealous. Terribly, tremendously jealous.

I wish I weren’t, but there it is.

I am jealous that you will get to bring your baby home when I didn’t.

I am jealous that people will ask you about your baby when even you don’t know how to talk to me about mine.

I am jealous that your parents will squeal with delight over this new grandchild when they only cried upon meeting the last one.

I am afraid they will describe yours as their second grandchild when really, he is the third.

I am afraid he will grow up not knowing he has a cousin who should be the same age.

I know you will all be sympathetic when you call to tell us the news.

I know you will understand why it will be so hard for us to hear that this new baby has entered the world without any problems, the way we thought ours was going to.

I know you will be sensitive because our wound is still so fresh. You will probably experience a brief moment of sadness when you talk to us, but that sadness will be forgotten as soon as you hang up the phone.

I know, because I remember how being with your new baby wipes away everything else.

Even I didn’t have room for sadness when I was staring at my beautiful boy’s face as he lay dying in front of me.

What I need you to know is that the flashbacks, the jealousy, the picturing what-might-have-been will not stop for me when you bring your baby home, the way we never did.

It will not stop when he turns five days old and is officially older than his older cousin ever was. No, your baby will never be just your baby when we look at him.

I’m sorry, but it’s true.

We will love him for himself, yes.

We will recognize all the wonderful ways that he is uniquely him, yes.

But he will also serve as a permanent echo in our family of the son we didn’t get to keep.

You see, they would have been the same age their whole lives. It seems obvious, I know, but it will be easy for you to forget.

Our baby will always be a baby, while yours will slowly become a little boy, a smelly teenager, a full-grown man.

And as we watch him grow and celebrate each milestone with you, we will be thinking of our own son. We will be wishing we could watch him turn into a little boy, a smelly teenager, a full-grown man.

We will see him echoed right alongside your son for his entire life: your son, the cousin who should have been a few months younger.

On his first birthday, please understand why our smiles aren’t as big as everyone else’s. You see, we will be thinking of the birthdays we will miss with our boy.

When he goes off to his first day of kindergarten, forgive us for not being sad with you that he is growing up. You see, it is a reminder that our son isn’t.

When he loses his first tooth or goes on his first date or graduates from high school, we will be silently marking these moments for our son, as well – keeping track of anniversaries from a life not lived.

So, while I wish I could be happy for you, I’m just not there yet.

I’m not ready to celebrate a lifetime of milestones and accomplishments for your son that I won’t ever get to have with mine.

– Your Sister-In-Law

 


About the Author
Samantha Gorenstein and her husband Marc struggled with infertility for five years before welcoming sweet Reed Elliott into the world on December 10, 2019. Their hearts were broken when they learned Reed had suffered a severe neurologic injury in utero and was unable to survive. Reed passed away on December 14, after four days of love and joy with his parents. Though they didn’t bring their baby home, Samantha and Marc are still overwhelmingly proud of their little boy and are learning how to be better parents to him every day. Find more of their story on https://gorensss.wixsite.com/hopeblooms/blog
  • Jealousy After Loss: Love And Longing At The Same Time
  • pink flowers on a white background
  • When a New Envy Rises
  • photo by Jennifer Upton
  • A Different Kind of Jealousy

       

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: « About Second Chances
Next Post: When We Heard Him Call ‘Mama’ »

Reader Interactions

{Your Thoughts} Cancel reply

Comments

  1. Mallory Kon says

    June 16, 2020 at 12:41 pm

    Beautifully written once again and so true. Other babies and children are extremely difficult to be around. I, along with you, will not see my son grow and he will always be just 11 days old. I struggle everyday with the idea that I am supposed to move forward with my life without him.

    Reply Report comment
  2. vICKI pELFREY says

    June 16, 2020 at 8:56 pm

    I can STILL relate to your feelings even though it was in 1976….our firstborn, a son was born at approx. 28 wks. He lived 36 hrs. There was no inkling of a premature birth. I was a nurse who worked in the newborn nursery; the very hospital I delivered at. He was transferred to the children’s hospital NICU just a few miles away. My husband visited him but I was in such shock..I never asked to go. Thank God that things have changed for the better since then. I have no picture…NOTHING to remember him by….just a faint memory of a brief view of him while he was waiting for the transport team. I never even got to touch him……this brings a flood of tears to my eyes 44 yrs. later. And the one person who did see him, my husband, died unexpectedly 18 yrs. ago. We did go on to have a daughter & another son w/o any serious issues. But those feelings you have Samantha….they are so heart wrenching. I had a cousin and a good friend who were due around the same time I was… …..Yes, I was jealous……

    Reply Report comment
  3. Tima says

    June 17, 2020 at 6:50 am

    Samantha, so painfully and aptly articulated. What an unfair and agonizing endless journey this is.

    Reply Report comment
Newer Comments »

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 & 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 © 2023 · Still Standing Magazine, LLC