Being tall, I have to say the most common questions I get are “how tall are you?” and “do you/did you play basketball?” When I was single, it was people asking me if I’d met anyone special. Then I met someone special and got asked when we would be married. We got married then questions about when/if we’d have a baby. I suppose it continues from there. You have a baby, then everyone what’s to know when/if you’ll have a second baby. Life is weird that way – like everyone needs to follow a timeline laid out by the board game Life.
I’ve been surprised lately that the question I get most now isn’t about my due date or the gender of the baby.
“Is this your first?”
What a seemingly harmless question. One I’ve probably asked in the past before I knew how difficult that question can be for someone to answer. In most scenarios, I answer yes knowing that the asker doesn’t really want to know about my journey of heartache and loss. But it does make me pause. Is this my first baby I’ve carried this far? Yep. Is this the first baby I get to deliver and bring home? I sure hope I get to bring her home. Is this my first baby? No. No, it’s not. I have another child that lives within my heart. One that can’t be seen but is very real and dear to me. Losing her was harder than losing family I’ve known all my life. So it crushes me to answer “yes” to that question when the answer is NO. I want to remember my angel and talk about her. For whatever reason, it’s not socially acceptable. Could you imagine not talking about one of your kids? To have to pretend that one doesn’t exist and never did? Talk about heartbreak!
I appreciate the thoughtfulness to ask me questions. And in some aspects Corrine will be my first – the first baby to come home, to keep me up at night, the first to hold in my arms. But she is my second. And in all honesty, she likely wouldn’t exist if we hadn’t lost her sister. The real answer to that question is NO, because their stories and lives are intertwined.