The other day Maddy and I were going through our normal routine getting ready for school. She mentioned something about me being a little boy and I remembered having a picture on my facebook account so I pulled it up to show her.
Maddy being Maddy decided she wanted to look at the other pictures and ran across this old sonogram picture. She looked up at me and asked such a simple question, but I didn’t have a simple answer for her.
“Who’s that baby, daddy? Who is that?”
At first, I thought it was one of hers I had used as my profile picture. Then I noticed the date – 3/18/09. This was one of the babies Liz miscarried.
Her little eyes kept looking at the picture and looking at me, wanting to know. I couldn’t answer her. All I could say was it was some other baby. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her everything. I couldn’t fight back the tears either.
Liz and I have talked about having the conversation with the girls about the babies we’ve lost – mainly if we’d tell them. There wasn’t much discussion there. We’re pretty open about it so we want them to know. Just today as I was giving Liz her heparin shot she asked, should we have been doing this in front of the girls? I just looked at her and asked – would we have done it any other way? They know momma needs the shot for the baby and both know she needed them when they were in her tummy too. I’m sure it’s a bit too much for a 3 year old and a 2 year old to comprehend as would a conversation about a baby we don’t have at home with us, but it’s us I guess you could say. One day we’ll tell them about the other babies.
I’m sure some people think that is strange. I’m sure some may think it even strange to still have that strong of an attachment – I’m not sure I realized it until she asked that morning. For me anyway, those loses will always be a part of us. Sure, we’ve moved on, but as odd as it may sound our girls and baby on the way are a reminder of them. Had it not been for those losses, they wouldn’t be here.
Hopefully, the next time she happens to run across a random sonogram picture I’ll be prepared with an answer. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe we’ll just sit and cry together.