Facebook, part 2.

So I posted.  And I got a pretty overwhelming response.

Here is what I said:

Today, like every day, I am thinking about my baby daughter Mila Nalin. She was stillborn on December 23rd at 37 weeks, completely normal except that she wasn't alive. She would have been 2 months old by now. 

This article struck a chord for me. People rarely talk about how they deal with grief, and almost never talk about the kind of grief that follows stillbirth or similar losses. It's hard to talk about. It makes other people uncomfortable. But one of the things I've realized since Mila died and was born, in that order, is that many more of us have struggled through these experiences than I ever imagined, and feel like they have to do it in silence and alone. 

So I am talking about it, and about her. During her short life, she made us laugh a lot, accompanied us on many adventures, and already seemed like a little bit of a troublemaker. I'm sad she won't get to experience all the beautiful things in this world, but I take some comfort in knowing she was held and loved her whole life. There are good moments, but still a lot of bad moments. It sucks not having her here. But we're getting by, somehow.

I got a lot of supportive comments, but also a lot of private messages and emails from other women who have experienced loss, or people who know someone who has.  I spent the rest of the day reading and re-reading them, and feeling a bit more like I was part of a universal network of mothers and parents and families and friends.  I posted this follow-up:

Thanks for all the kind messages, comments, texts, and emails. I've heard from old friends, new friends, long-lost friends, acquaintances, colleagues, and many, many other moms and moms-to-be. I have also heard from expecting moms who have experienced loss before, and having also lost their naïveté, are very anxiously awaiting the safe arrival of their babies. These are the kinds of stories that make me feel less alone. 

It really means a lot.  

It's still hard to talk about it, but harder not to talk about it.

I still do find it hard to talk about.  Not only is it painful, I am also usually private.  I am introverted. There are things I am still scared to say to other people, on Facebook, on this blog.  I am scared of some of the things I have already posted on this blog.  But I’m getting too old to worry too much about what other people think, so I am trying.  One of the many things that Mila taught me, and still is teaching me, is that life’s too short.