Description and Synopsis

On September 4, 2011, I gave birth to our second child, Cora Abigail. She was stillborn, having died in the womb at 31 weeks gestation due to an umbilical cord accident. This blog chronicles my reaction to what is the most profound loss I have thus far experienced in my life, the questions to which I am gradually finding answers (and many that still remain unanswered), and my reflections on what I'm learning through this grief process.

I am keeping a paper journal to record my un-edited and un-censored writings, and the posts on this blog will not be exact replicas of those writings. I will back-date my posts to reflect the actual dates on which the paper versions were written.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Conversation Starters

Today I went to Moms Group for the first time since Cora was born. I was about to write "for the first time since Cora died," but technically I went to the Berry Patch with Moms Group when she probably was already dead, and I just didn't know it yet. I wonder whether I'll ever be able to go back to Berry Patch Farm without thinking of Cora and feeling sad. Probably not. Would I want it any other way? No. Her story is part of my history now. The two cannot exist separately.

It was hard holding it together at Moms Group. I'm not much fun to be around right now. It's hard for me to be friendly and interested. Sometimes - no, mostly all the time - the only safe places to rest my gaze are on M or on the floor/ground. Catching someone's eye means that I might have to say something or answer the question "How are you?" or, worst of all, initiate some small talk. What does one say, how does one even start a conversation?
  • Wow, your baby was born and survived - well done!
  • So, did you hear that my baby died?
  • It's good to see you...Oh, well, just been hanging out at home, crying, feeling sorry for myself, visiting the cemetery...you know, just the usual stuff.
It's always so awkward to see someone for the first time since before Cora died. Now that a couple of months have passed, it's almost as though people wonder whether they should say anything about it, or whether they're off the hook since so much time has passed. My close friends don't do this; they seem to know that we have to talk about it whenever we're together.

About two or so weeks after Cora died, we had some friends bring us a meal. It was very kind of them to do so, but after about 20 minutes of small talk they still hadn't said anything about Cora. Nothing. Eventually I had to bring it up. Please don't do this to your friends. It's much easier for you to just say right off the bat, "I was so sorry to hear about what happened" than it is for your friends to figure out some way to tactfully remind you of what happened and let you know that they don't just want to pretend as if everything's normal.