Making Way for the Next Generations

Let me just warn you ahead of time that this post could possibly be offensive to some people. However, I have some things I need to get off of my chest. So, in advance, I apologize if this offends anyone, but don't say I didn't warn you.

Do any of you get the look when you talk about your baby that died? You know which look I'm referring to don't you... the look that makes you think, "What? Is my hair on fire?"

I hate that everyone acts so uncomfortable when I talk about Wyatt. I either get a squirmy silence, while the person I am talking to starts turning blue from lack of oxygen because apparently either A.) They are afraid baby cooties (you know, the kind that will make one of their babies or loved ones die) will rub off on them. Or B.) The topic of my son and the fact that he ever existed reeks so much that they would rather pass out from oxygen deficiency.

Then, I get the people that go into a trance until I am finished mentioning my sons name. They seriously look like they are daydreaming about being anywhere and talking about anything else as long as it doesn't have anything to do with my baby. When I finally finish, it never fails, they come right out of their trance and change the subject to something stupid. "So how about this weather?". "Did you hear about what happened with so and so?". "Well, I guess I better get going".

And don't you just L-O-V-E the people that you know see you and purposely pretend they didn't? They will catch a glimpse of you and literally turn their backs to you and go the opposite direction. Because, Lord forbid I might actually say the name WYATT.

I've talked about this to one of my family members (who has been great through all this) and her explanation was "Well sweetie, they are probably just scared they are going to make you uncomfortable, or worse, that they might make you cry. You know, they are probably uncomfortable too. Death makes people uneasy..."

INSERT SCREAM.

NOW PULLING ALL THE HAIR OUT OF MY HEAD.

I WANT TO TALK ABOUT MY SON! I WOULDN'T BRING HIM UP IF I DIDN'T!!!!!

Does it really not register with these people that they are making me uncomfortable? Do they not realize that when I do cry most of the time anymore, it's not because I've talked about my son... It's because they acted like he never existed...

It's because they treat me like an outcast for loving my son...

It's because they can't understand that I'm still proud of Wyatt and I want to share him with the world like I do my other children...

So what If I bring him up and I've already told you the same story about his life ten million other times. I got cheated out of a lifetime with him here on earth. He lived for two minutes, he died, and I had his body to hold and snuggle for three days. When his earthly body was no more, that's where the stories of my time with him stopped too.

So forgive me if I tell you ten times how sweet his little feet were... How they were exactly 1 3/4 inches long and 3/4 of an inch wide...

Forgive me if I tell you fifty times how much I enjoyed the warmth of his body against my cheek...

Forgive me if I tell you a million times what a miracle it was to see his chest breath in the same air I was breathing...

Forgive me if I show you his picture a zillion times... It's my way of reminding myself that Wyatt wasn't a bittersweet dream, but that he was really here and he was really mine however briefly that may have been.

This post isn't really directed to any one person, but it's a blanket letter to everyone who has treated me, my family, my Wyatt, with any less respect than we deserve. I won't stop talking about Wyatt. Never, ever, ever. I'm a proud mom to ALL FOUR of my children. Maybe if all of in the baby loss community keep talking about our babies, twenty years from now the next generation will accept it as an ordinary part of their lives.

Think about this. Twenty years ago, were same sex relationships, interracial relationships, or having a baby out of wedlock acceptable? NO WAY! But people kept standing up for what they believed in and here we are twenty years later and our generation looks at these situations as no big deal. We were raised around that.

Maybe talking about our babies that died will be just as acceptable in our childrens generation. Maybe I'll have to endure being uncomfortable now, but I hope for the day when women can freely talk about their baby that has passed without feeling like an outcast. We loved our baby just like an other mother. We birthed our baby just like any mother. Unfortunately it didn't stop there. We had to bury our baby too. That is all that separates us from the other mothers.

Thank God death has no power over love.