Remembering my first son...

19 years ago today I gave birth to my first son, Sean Michael.  He was gone before I even gave birth so I had a short time (a weekend) to process things before having induced labor.  Some people wonder how you can grieve the loss of a child you never actually “made memories” with, as though breath is required for him to “count”.  Well it doesn’t mean he didn’t exist.  It’s still a part of your life, still something you think about from time to time.  I don’t always think about him on his “birth” day but perhaps he comes to mind since I visited his grave site when I recently visited family in another state where I used to live.

“Grief” probably isn’t the right word for my reflections.  It was certainly what I felt when the ultrasound revealed that his heart wasn’t beating.  I wasn’t expecting that at all.  I just figured the kid inside me was as stubborn as me and wouldn’t let the doctors hear the heartbeat during a regular exam.  Silly boy.  Although my doctor was somber when he sent me for an immediate ultrasound, I just knew that everything was fine and we’d all laugh about it later.  Having already had an ultrasound earlier in the pregnancy, I had seen and heard the heartbeat before and expected to say, “Ha!  You couldn’t hide this time!!”  But the silence and lack of movement brought sudden grief.  My husband at the time held it together while we were there with the doctors but he lost it as soon as he saw his dad later that afternoon.

I remember the subsequent delivery, I remember the conversations about choosing a grave stone and inscription, I remember the funeral.  Funny how those things didn’t seem like such a big deal in the moment.  Maybe it just seemed surreal.  Maybe it was my defense mechanism to be tough and unemotional.  I don’t know but I do remember that it was difficult to see and be around other people with babies for a while.  I suppose one becomes hypersensitive, overly aware of people pushing babies in strollers, dealing with fussy infants at restaurants and grocery stores.  Everywhere you go, someone seems to have a baby and the world goes on like normal but it doesn’t feel so normal to you.

But it has been a long time since my reflections felt like grief.  Even right now as I share this, it’s not grief that I feel.  Just thoughts and memories of a chapter in my life.  Sean Michael was spared a difficult (and probably short) life due to his condition.  So I can honestly be thankful that God called him home before he even took a breath.  And seriously, can you see me being the mother of a 19-year old??  I’m not ready for that yet.  I’m enjoying having a 15-year old instead.  That’s enough for me right now.  :-)