So “it” happened again. I hate how often this happens, an acquaintance using the dreaded “how many kids do you have” question as an icebreaker. This question appears innocent to many but to those of us who have dealt with infertility and/or pregnancy loss it is pure evil. As an infertile, I wonder why this person is asking about my sex life and mentally prepare myself for the stupid advice on fertility that is sure to follow if I say I have no children. But as a loss mother, the question raises a huge internal debate.
Do I say I have none and deny the existence of my beloved babies who died before I even got to hold them? Saying none seems to be the polite and “safe” response, especially when followed by a quick subject change. This answer protects the feelings of the questioner, so that they don’t have to experience, even for a brief moment, the unpleasant reality that is my life. But why do I buy into the lie that I should continually protect other people’s feelings to the detriment of my own?
Do I tell the truth? Do I tell a relative stranger that I lost five babies? The responses I get to that are varied but most often pity, confusion, or blame follow along with an abrupt change of topic or a complete end to the conversation. It’s rare that I receive a compassionate or sympathetic response and those few times bring tears to my eyes. I know it will make the questioner uncomfortable when I am honest but is their comfort really my responsibility?
Do I have an obligation to tell the truth of my story to further awareness of pregnancy loss? We shouldn’t need to spread awareness when it happens to one out of four pregnancies but people just don’t talk about it. Do I need to be in “crusader mode” all the time to talk about my losses in hopes of reaching someone else who has suffered a loss?
As women, we are often conditioned to always put everyone else first so as not to appear selfish. Well, I am grieving and I need to remind myself that it is not selfish to take care of my needs. In an airplane emergency the passengers are always told to put on their own mask first, before helping anyone else. This isn’t selfish–it is survival. It is time for me to put on my own oxygen mask in the hopes that I can survive to help others later. I will admit to feeling guilty on those days that I answer none; it can twist my heart up in knots sometimes. But there are also days that I know I am just not strong enough to share my pain with others, to risk being vulnerable and further hurt by their insensitive response.
I wish people would just stop using that question, and it’s counterpart of “do you have kids,” in casual conversation. But then I also wish I would win the lottery and I guess both of the wishes are equally realistic.
I would like to be honest more often. Not in a way to intentionally make others uncomfortable but to raise awareness that losing babies is a painful part of real life. But I will also give myself permission to take the easy way out sometimes, not to spare the questioner’s feelings but to spare mine on the days that I need to protect myself. There isn’t an easy answer here. I am trying to find a balance that I can live with.
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Thanks for sharing this. I am just completing a new documentary called Still Loved, which shows how families survive the loss of their babies. This will be released soon and we hope it will help to raise awareness and break the silence. Find out more here: http://www.stilllovedfilm.com
Thanks
It is important to me that my 7 miscarried babies are acknowledged so I say “I have two here with me and seven in heaven”. How people react and respond is their problem. I just tell the truth. I love my miscarried babies as much as my daughter and son. I bonded with each of them when pregnant. They existed. So I will call them my own…I’m a mummy to nine all told and I firmly believe that I will be with my miscarried babies again one day.
” I bonded with each of them when pregnant. They existed.” Well said!
This is one reason I got a tattoo for my daughter on my chest, right over my heart. I get asked about it often and some will say I’m sorry, but I just respond and say it’s OK, this is so people see that she lived, not that she died.
That’s a lovely way to honor your daughter.
First of all, I can’t imagine many loss survivers would ask this in small talk, at least in my experience. Usually the only people that ask me are customers, and since I am trying to sell them stuff I don’t want to make them uncomfortable with me, besides, I personally don’t feel guilty saying I have no kids. To each their own.
That’s fine that you don’t feel guilty; I am certainly not trying to make anyone feel guilty; as you said, to each their own. Sadly, I have had some loss mothers still use that as conversation, usually ones who have gone on to have one or more living children and seemingly forgotten what it was like before they did.
I think this was people in general asking not just loss survivors. I’ve had many people ask me this question, even strangers making small talk. Not sure it’s just about guilt either. If I say no I get responses like “life just isn’t life without kids” and it is more painful than just telling the truth. I probably wouldn’t tell customers either in your case, but general conversation can be different.
I always tell people about my son when they ask about children. I have so much guilt at even the thought of not recognizing him in the conversation, I know that would upset me much more than having to deal with someone’s reaction. And really, the expectation that I would not mention him irritates me… Nobody expects someone who lost a parent to pretend they never had one, for example.
What I find even harder than the question is the anticipation of it though. Chatting with a stranger in line, making small talk with a new client, being introduced to a mutual acquaintance… I spend the conversation on edge wondering when, and if, I will get one off those awkward, conversation ending questions.
Oh I hate that anticipation of it too! It really can ruin what would have been a perfectly nice conversation since we are on edge constantly waiting for that question.
Totally love this part that you said – “Nobody expects someone who lost a parent to pretend they never had one”. That is so true and an awesome way to think about it! Why should we have to pretend and lie? We shouldn’t.