I was able to share Isabella’s story today with Christus Trinity Mother Francis Hospital. I think I was more anxious leading up that moment than I thought I would be. I’ve talked about her life, death, diagnosis ALOT in the last eleven months. But parking the car, walking to the elevator, riding up to the 8th floor… I just wanted to bawl. Why did I agree to do this…?!?
But I already knew why; to be a light to someone else. To share in a piece of their loneliness or fear or anger. To help gain awareness. No one wants to be the mom a dead child. No one wants to hear about how losing a child is even a possibility.
But it does happen. It happened to me, and I want other parents to know they aren’t alone.
In our Griefshare group just this week we talked about how sharing and blessing others with our loved ones story, is a huge part of our own healing journey. It’s not always easy, but it brings so much comfort.
I knew these people who were also grieving the loss of a loved one, who I’d just met and shared so much of me with, were thinking about me today. And for some reason I shared on my Facebook page that I had been given an opportunity to share Isabella’s story. I asked for thoughts and prayers from my FB friends… (oh the joys of social media).
I was beyond encouraged, propelled into action by the outpouring I received. Mainly I was reminded of the loss many of these people had experienced themselves. The grief that they had faced head on, and pushed through.
Husbands who had lost wives way too young to cancer. Women my age who had lost husbands. Mom’s who had lost sons. Other mom’s who’d given birth too soon and left the hospital without their babies. Y’all I realized, I am not alone. And grief can feel so so lonely. Especially during Covid. Especially when no one got to see my daughter besides her daddy and me.
But she was more than a vapor. More than an idea. She was born and lived three hours and we think of her every day. We do. We are looking forward to recognizing and celebrating what would be her first birthday next month. She’s still a part of our family.
For the texts, messages, notes, emails: Thank You for remembering our daughter and us. I can’t wait to share our edited video interview in the months to come.
And here is the other thing: The gentleman who interviewed me, the guy behind the cameras and big lights, lost is son only a month prior to Isabella’s death. He does video/ film editing for a living and was contracted to do this piece for the foundation/ marketing group at the hospital. BUT, as soon as I walked in, sat down, and the door closed behind me he said, “I want to tell you I’m a part of the same shitty club. My fourteen year old son died in March, 2020 and I know your heartache. It’s different. But I understand.”
We aren’t alone y’all.