Levels of loss

This week I stepped in a time machine and went back to July 12th, the day my precious daughter died. I relived everything about that day in vivid detail. I couldn't stop thinking about the days after.. I remembered that feeling when I would wake up in the morning and for a second it was all a dream, and how when I would shake the sleep out of my mind, my horrifying reality would hit me like a ton of bricks. I remembered the devastation. I remembered planning my daughter's funeral. I remembered pretending to be fine. I remembered attending that funeral and showing the people nearest and dearest to me how weak I really was. 

Those thoughts and memories never really leave me. I just know how to manage them better now. But the thing that triggered all of this was the death of another precious baby. Reliving all of those moments caused tears to stream down my face for days. I was not crying for my loss, though. I was crying for the parents of Cooper Burnett, the 6 month old baby who fought his whole short life to live but alas could not. I have so much empathy for his sweet parents. I understand what it is like to lose your baby. I am sorry for them, for the path they have to take now. 

In my journey through grief, I have found that you must be very careful when showing empathy, though, because there is a very fine line between empathy and insensitivity. The need to relate to people in order to comfort them is great. Since the passing of my daughter, so many people have told me they know how I feel or share stories that they think connect us. Sometimes it is helpful and sometimes it is offensive. 

I have found that there are different levels of loss. The levels are on the same plane, not one being better or worse than another. There are similarities in the feelings you may feel but there are differences. For example, I have bonded with my mother in law over my loss because she has also lost a child. Her son, Tel, passed away at 18 years old in a car accident. We share many of the same emotions because we have both suffered through the death of a child. However I feel cheated out of a lifetime of memories, whereas she has tons of memories. She had to deal with missing someone who was a constant physical presence in her life, someone she saw and talked to every single day, whereas I did not have to make those adjustments since Daisy was never able to come home with us. I could go on and on. My point is my loss is much different  from her loss. It is different from a miscarriage, the death of a child at 5 years old or the death of a child at 40 years old. No better. No worse. Just different. For me to tell my mother in law I know how she feels would be wrong. I don't know how she feels and vice versa.  

I know that I can offer some empathy to our friends who have lost their baby but I don't know exactly how they feel. They got to know Cooper and see his little personality grow. They watched him fight for 180 days. I'm sure there were days of hope and days of discouragement. 

 I pray that I can be sensitive to their needs as they grieve and that I can offer comfort to them. I hope they will know that I am here for them to talk to any time. I hope that I do not let my own grief cloud my ability to be completely caring and loving towards them. I have realized that we should not have our own agenda when comforting others. Just listen and love and be there. That's all anyone really needs from a friend. 

Matthew 19:14 

But Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven.”

Proverbs 3:5 

Trust in the lord with all your heart; lean not on your own understanding.