Someone Else's Shoes

Warning: I'm not sure how many of you were able to catch the Monday, June 6th, episode of The Secret Life of the American Teenager, but if you weren't and would like to before reading this post, don't read any further.  Spoilers do follow in the post below. Just wanted to give a heads up....


Since losing Kennedy, I find that I reflect a lot on my life and what it is like now in comparison to what it was before.  But the reflection is a lot about my life, not really on anyone else's life.  Which is very interesting to me, since I have never really thought myself to be an egotistical kind of person.  I have always considered myself to be someone who thought about others before herself.  I have always wanted to please and help those close to me before I would ever do something to better my life. 

However, after watching Secret Life the other day, I realize that I do think of myself a lot more.  I protect myself.  I am wary of my emotions.  I find that maybe I am more in tune to my feelings than I ever have been before.  I don't want to hurt or get hurt anymore.  So, I guess I am somewhat egotistical.  But it's because of what I have been through.  Or what I am still going through.

Yet, on Monday, I was reminded how many other people have or had been effected by the loss of Kennedy.  I think I sometimes forget this.  I think I forget this because I feel so much pain that it's hard to feel anything else for anyone else, especially those that haven't experienced the loss at the severity that I have.  But, the show gave me a different perspective.  It opened up my eyes to what it might have been like for others in my life.  People who really care for me.   All of a sudden, I stepped into their shoes that day when I lost Kennedy. 

First, I see Kennedy's father.  And because our relationship is strained right now, this is more difficult for me to write about.  However, I see him that day.  He knew right away.  Just the way Ben did.  When we didn't see a heartbeat and they couldn't tell us the sex of the baby, Kennedy's father knew something was terribly wrong.  Yet, he said nothing.  He is heartbroken and sad.  He has tears rolling down his face as he starts calling everyone.  First his mom.  Then his work.  Telling them what has happened.  I can talk to no one.  I am stunned.  He calls everyone.  He wants people to know.  He finds comfort in talking to others.  Yet, we never find comfort in each other. 

Next, I see my mom. She's devastated.  She also calls people and finds out that she has lost her Great Uncle that day too.  She can't believe all this is happening.  She sees me hurting, yet doesn't know what to do to make it better.  She cries with me and sleeps on the floor by the couch where I sleep in hopes that she can comfort me on my sleepless nights.  She wants to put a Band-Aid on the situation.  But she can't.  She looks and feels hopeless.


Now, we pan to my dad.  He's always been the strong one.  He's hurt.  He's angry.  He doesn't know what to do.  Yet, he wants everything to go away.  He wants me to not feel pain anymore.  He is the one who helps me decide what would be the best decision when delivering this baby.  He wants me to be able to move on quickly.  Yet, he doesn't cry.  He doesn't ever express any emotion openly.  That's not his role.  He's supposed to be the even keel one.  Yet, he knows I will never be the same.  I will never be the same little girl he once knew.

Finally, the camera turns to my friends and family.  The friends and family who so anxiously awaited the news of what the baby's sex would be that day.  In comparison to Secret Life, my friends and family were waiting to find out if they would be purchasing blue or pink gifts instead of the the arrival of a baby.  They were the friends and family who were texting or Facebook'ing me making sure they were on the list to contact regarding what we would find out that day.  Instead, what they found out was that the baby hadn't lived.  I see their reactions.  I see tears.  I feel their sadness.  I see them contacting others with the news.  There is a shock amongst them.  They don't know what to do.  They comfort each other and find comfort in others by sharing my story.  The day and week is filled with sadness.  Some reach out by phone, email, text.  Some send cards and gifts.  Others are lost as what to do and may not reach out at all.


As I step out of all their shoes and put mine back on.  I am back in my reality.  Yet, it has given me a new outlook.  A different perspective.  Others were effected by her death.  Others who may not have really known Kennedy, but who knew and loved me.  It's not an easy situation.  I get this.  Death is not easy to begin with, much less the death of a child.  But it's helps me to imagine what it might have been like for others.  Especially those who were there then for me and continue to be there for me today.  They know what they felt like that day. They felt pain too.  The pain may be more for me than for my baby.  Most didn't know her like I did.  Yet, it is pain.  In some ways, the day I lost Kennedy is the day a part of me died with her.  My friends and family will never know me again the way I was before. 

If you haven't ever heard or read the poem, Ugly Shoes, here is my post with the poem.  The reason I am sharing this poem again is because I know how our ugly shoes fit all the time.  But there are other shoes too.  Shoes of those who have been there for us.  Shoes of the people who continue to share this journey without our babies.  Those shoes are often not fun either.  They hurt too.  And they hate that they have to wear these shoes because of what they represent.  The shoes they wear are different than mine.  They will never be the same.  Yet, there are people....even though it may be a smaller number than I have wanted....who wear similar ugly shoes to mine.  I am grateful for that select group.  I know that those are the people who can go through anything with me from here on out and will be there through the long haul.  I hate that we have to wear ugly shoes at all...literally and figuratively, but the people in my life that I have right now... the ones who are truly there....are amazing, loving people.  I couldn't ask for a better group.  I truly couldn't.  I am blessed to have their continued love and support.  I know it's not easy wearing their shoes either, but I am thankful that they do.