But Where Is He, Mama? - modernfamilyblog.com

The Most Heart-Wrenching Question I’ve Ever Encountered

Trigger warning: child loss

I couldn’t bear to stay in the hospital any longer. After the tragic loss of my son, Leo, I requested to be discharged a day early. My midwives kindly accommodated my wish. My cousins swiftly came to our room, packed our belongings, and met us back in the NICU, sparing me the agony of returning there.

How could I walk back to that room? The room where my baby should have been with me, where I should have captured precious newborn moments, counted diapers, and enjoyed feeding him. It was too much to bear. So, I simply didn’t go.

Leaving the hospital felt surreal. I saw other mothers being wheeled out, filled with joy, balloons in hand, celebrating the arrival of their little ones. Meanwhile, I walked to my car, overwhelmed by sadness, disbelief, and the stark reality of leaving without my child.

My uncle drove us home, and neither my husband nor I wanted to face the silence that awaited us. The house was still, devoid of the cries of a newborn or the sounds of tender moments shared. I immediately instructed my husband to close Leo’s door upstairs, vowing never to open it again—or so I thought.

In the living room, the unopened swing sat in its box, a painful reminder of what could have been. “Get rid of that swing! I don’t want it in sight!” I cried out, and my husband complied, placing it in the basement closet.

Soon, family and friends arrived, offering comfort and support. They shared our grief, sitting in silence with us. Yet, my other sons were still away. How would I explain to my five- and three-year-old that they had lost their baby brother? Would they understand? Would they blame me? Would this trauma haunt them forever?

Once everyone left and silence reigned, my eldest son sat at the kitchen table, surprisingly not asking about Leo or why everyone had been so sad. I grappled with the right moment to tell him. He was the one I worried about most, knowing our three-year-old would grasp it differently. But I couldn’t let the memory of Leo fade away.

Then, I decided it was time to speak up. “Hey buddy, do you notice anything different about mommy?” His face lit up, “Your belly isn’t big anymore! That means you had Leo! But where is he, Mama?”

“Oh sweetheart, remember how you would see mama praying for Leo at night?” I asked. He remembered our nightly routine, where he would kiss my belly and pray for his brother. I had never told him Leo was unwell; I let him pray, and I treasured those moments.

“Leo was sick, and he needed to go home to God,” I explained, feeling like I was speaking words I never thought I’d have to utter. The moment felt surreal as I faced my confused five-year-old, bewildered by the reality of what I said.

Then, he uttered something that shattered my heart, “But mommy, you were supposed to take him home so I can hug him and kiss him!” All I could manage was a broken, “I’m sorry, buddy.”

“Leo died, mommy? Why? Why did Leo die?” he asked, and my three-year-old echoed his words, “Leo died, mama? Why? Why?” I was overwhelmed with raw emotion and quickly excused myself upstairs to hide my tears.

In the hallway, I slid down the wall, seeking grounding. I sobbed uncontrollably. Moments later, my two little boys came rushing up the stairs. “Don’t cry, mama,” my oldest said. “It’s okay if you cry for Leo.” My youngest climbed onto my lap and gently touched my face, “You sad, mama?”

At that moment, I couldn’t hide my pain anymore. I was a distraught mother with two boys on my lap, comforting me as I cried. They didn’t say a word; they simply held me as I let it all out.

I realized then that I wouldn’t shield my sons from my grief. They would know about their brother, and they would understand that sadness is a part of life. Because you never know what tomorrow may bring. Some days, you find yourself comforting your children, and on others, you’re the one needing comfort, with your little ones right there to support you.

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In summary, the journey of navigating loss is unfathomable, especially for a parent. The pain of explaining such grief to young children is immense, yet it is crucial to be open about feelings of sadness and loss. Life can turn unexpectedly, and acknowledging those emotions allows for healing and understanding in the family dynamic.

Keyphrase: child loss and parenting

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