Sometimes I have a hard time looking at couples and their families. And mothers that are pregnant with their third or fourth. Or just pregnant. There, I said it. I try to say that none of that bothers me, but it does.
While my boys and I were at the library the other day, I saw a mother who was about as pregnant as I would be, if Michael had lived. And she had a little girl, that was just learning how to walk. I watched them. And of course, I thought that would be little Emily walking. And Michael still in my tummy. And she has both. And I have neither here. How does that work? I couldn’t even have one here.
I watch families at church. The other day I saw a family of five. And then the mother turned to her side, and she was about four or so months pregnant. I am just guessing. As I walked by that family after church, I heard her say to another woman while pointing to her tummy, “They just keep coming!” And I think, why don’t they “just keep coming” for us? What is going on?
It’s hard. Yes, we are blessed with our two boys here, but there are moments where it is hard. And then I think, we are just three months out from the day, February 6th, that we found out that our baby boy, Michael, died. And one year, three months, from when our baby girl, Emily, died. So, how could it not be hard? If it was easy, then that would be unusual, I believe.
Then the more I started thinking about things, I thought about the “untold story” and stories that I see every day. But I don’t see them entirely. Someone easily could be looking at me with our boys, and say to themselves, “Wow, she has two boys close in age. A nuclear family. The ‘typical’ American dream. Four in a family. Where is that picket fence?” But, they do not see our Emily and Michael. And all that goes with that. The sadness. The confusion. The frustration. The unknown answers. And that they are not here. And then I thought, I don’t see that with others. I do not see their stories. Sure, some don’t have a story, and got pregnant easily and keep popping them out with little worries. And never have to experience this side of things. But I have come across a fair amount of people since we have lost that have. Some with living children here. Others, sadly not. And others that have wanted a second or third, but haven’t been able to have that.
I have to step back sometime, and remind myself of the “untold story” that exists with each family I see. Because you just never know.