To be invited or not?
By Kimberly Perlmutter -
The first baby shower I was invited to is today. I fought thru grief and embraced her joy by going with Ken to her store where she registered – the same store my son’s crib and changing table were purchased. It was also where I tried on the Baby Bjorn and perused many of the items I discovered were needed for a new baby’s first years. It was a hard gift to buy no matter where or even online.
The baby shower is more than just a luncheon or dressing nicely and sitting around with a group of women. For any woman who wants a child and has not been married or blessed after being married – a baby shower is torture on the sidelines. I can safely imagine some of her friends will be feeling some loss or jealousy or wishing it was their turn next. Or deeply wishing they had been blessed with a child but circumstances in life prevented this from coming to fruition.
Did anyone else bury a child?
It’s really a metaphor for going to any social event or party now. It’s not that different in being in the world where people are happy and happy to see one another and meet new aquaintances and make small talk and conversation. What is small talk with me now? I selfishly cringe listening to the normal issues and wish I could trade places and deal with this set of problems or be happy and light and easy to know. Or utter the words when asked “Do you have children?….”
If this new group have heard mentioned thru the mutual friend the reality of Kim’s life and living now after the death of my only child, would they truly want to meet me? Their days are more normal to discuss out loud with a stranger except I can’t listen like I used to. Until you know our story – a healthy little boy is here one day and dead the next.
Not exactly the most comforting topic at a baby shower. How instantly their heads and heart imagine my child could die from an unknown virus? Even go so far as to think my child would freak out knowing they could die like Joey died if they get “sick”
Does anyone ever know what to say after these words are uttered? My own dear mommy friends have dwindled out of my life. To know they are sad for me is comforting. To know they remember Joey is huge. Yet there is no time as busy moms to find time now to see me. They also protect me from what is over. I get this – boy, do I get it. I am not upset or begrudge them at all.
How realistic is it now focusing on the friend and the joyful days ahead when it is tainted with a surreal reality that children die from unexplained, or unexpected things that no one wants to think about. I know too much now. Children die from so many random and unexplained deaths – it is torture to not imagine who will be dealt this horrible fate next.
I’ll share more “harder” reality now after having a recent dose of watching our family videos from bygone days while Ken was downloading every minute caught on tape and scribbling the notable details of this child in his daily living spaces. A task Daddy spent countless hours documenting the nuances of our happy moments caught on tape in action. The few minutes I could stomach were more real than I can even begin to share now. The joyful reality in each and every day. Real palatable happy people in each normal daily doing. In the foreground is this happy family. In the background is a once crazy household with constant telephone calls ringing in between the giggles and the conversations with Joey or often we were talking to each other over the filming and as if no one is filming. Now it leaves me with where is he? How can he be dead? How will I do this for 35 more years?
The telephone rarely rings now. We even joke about it sometimes did anyone call this week? It is not very different every day – even 4 years later. The phone rings less often if at all. The silence is a reminder if they do call, what is there to say? Who calls here still holds back when asking “how are you?” They pause waiting for the reply. or respond in nervousness you are not fine – are you? You have been in my thoughts or Joey’s anniversary is weighing on their heads and hearts knowing the day he died.
This week I will attempt to make my first thanksgiving dinner since 2004. That week was a household full of my son, step daughters and my father and his wife visiting here. We had many hands in the kitchen and good cooks among us preparing delicious foods for all of us to enjoy collectively producing what we were skilled at making for the meal. I have not spoken to my dad now in over 2 years. It is ok and I have no doubt or desire to repair this ever again in this lifetime. And yes, the memories of holidays past are filled with sharing Thanksgiving with him and the dysfunction is always right there to remind me of the blessings this is not to be ever more.
As i imagine all there is to doing this dinner- it is daunting. To decorate? To set the table using the Pottery Barn Kids tablecloth that has not been seen in 5 years? To see the pictures in my mind of Joseph racing around watching Grandpa and Mommy and Terri as we hurried about? Hannah hiding in her room and Joey going in there to see her? Or the year before we were in New Jersey with Grandma Rosalie and we went to a restaurant instead of making it at home and missing Papa Don more with all of Ken’s extended New Jersey family? Or to remember 2005 was the Thanksgiving my wonderful sister was planning to be here with her son and husband…….oh it is too much for one person to endure.
Silently, I want to call it all off and hide one more year and not push thru the feelings or use this time in the next few days cleaning the house to make it presentable, and planning recipes, shopping for the groceries in any store with all the triggers that are pervasive even now. Then ultimately creating a delicious dinner for 4 people. It used to be 20 people and turning others away in conversations with Ken. After 4 years of trying different ways to cope with other friends including us at their homes, now no one invited us!
No one is really needing to be asking us after 4 years if we are ok.
It is so so sad there is no escaping the reality of feeling how holidays are sadder, harder, less enjoyable after your precious child dies.
Thank you again for your loving heart space.
With love and ehugs -
Kim
