On April 8th my daughter gave birth to a stillborn son. It was a little more than 2 weeks into the Covid madness as it hit the United States. But for our little family we were just like the commercial that said despite the virus people still get broken arms, babies get born and I thought and babies die.
For my daughter, her husband and 3 year old son this has been a huge heartbreak. You can read about it here. For me, the grandma, it hurts and I grieve but probably not as much as my daughter and her family. My hurt is a tad bit different in that I grieve for the loss of a grandson and I miss him. But I also worry, grieve and hurt for my daughter, son-in-law and other grandson.
Mother’s Day was difficult for my daughter and I knew it would be. I expect it would be just as difficult for her husband on Father’s Day. I had my own reasons for hating Mother’s Day for many years. My first mother’s day was given to me by this very daughter. My own mother was sick and I had finally been told it was lung cancer. My mom was declining rapidly. I was planning on calling her but I also knew that she sometimes slept in after a hard night. I never knew when they were so I waited. In the meantime my mom called me to wish me Happy Mother’s Day for the first time. She was estatic to share that with me. She died shortly after. So for me, Mother’s Day was always a reminder of her death. It took me quite a few years to get to the point where Mother’s Day did not bother me anymore. I think it was the year where I got to wish a fellow church member a Happy Mother’s Day with a flower that was the first time I felt ‘normal’. So I understand how the holiday can be hurting, just a little bit.
While my grief for Ethan, the stillborn grandson, is not overwhelming it hurts just a little bit at odd times to me. Times I walk past the baby section to remember my daughter won’t be needing diapers for the newborn. Looking at a rocking chair and crib in a advertisment brings a sense of remorse, just a little bit. Seeing a picture of a mother cuddling her child hurts just a little bit – just a little bit for me and just a little bit for my daughter.
Yesterday we went to see the new gravestone set recently for Ethan. The picture on the stone of the Savior holding a baby brought about a tender moment and a sense of missing the moments we would have of holding Ethan. The warmth of his skin, the newborn baby smell and the little noises and expressions babies make all will be missed.
I tend to delay grieving so I was surprised a day later to be so close to tears all day. Even knowing what I know I will still miss Ethan and hurt ,just a little bit.