How do I, how do you go on when the most devastating thing that one can imagine, happens?
There are many people who will simply not celebrate Christmas this year, another year perhaps.
This story was shared before on a previous Daughters of Sheba Blog. However, it is shared again today to help someone, anyone, particularly a mother grieving the death of her child.
Christmas is about birthing and so talking about a loss might seem counter-productive. The hope is that by sharing this piece of my journey, someone, a mother in particular may find peace or at least begin the walk to it.
My Baby Died: How Do I Go On?
Every state of mind is directly affected by the flow of love within and without. There is only one thing that truly fills the emptiness. That thing is called LOVE. The lack of love causes an inner emptiness that no substance, no bingeing, no external intervention can fill. Inner emptiness comes from a lack of connection with our spiritual source of love.
The truth of who I am comes only from my personal source of spiritual guidance—-whatever that is. When I open to learning, that guidance ‘system’, let us say, teaches me about the truth of who I am. Through the life of my second baby, I learned how to completely open myself to an in-pouring of Love. It was a painful, emptying lesson but one that is one of my darkest moments seeped into my heart and filled my inner emptiness. How do I go on?
That in-filling of Love came upon me about 10 years ago when our second son, Justin was born. I had an almost perfect pregnancy. On June 4, my baby, Justin came into the world.
I was overjoyed because we had no idea of the baby’s gender. We deliberately did not ask or want to find out prior to his arrival. The sound of words “It’s a boy,” rang sweetly in my ears—even to this day.
Twenty-four hours later, my Obstetrician-Gynecologist came to my bedside and delivered the devastating news. He said that our bouncing 6 ½ pound baby had a medical problem. He had a serious heart defect. Baby Justin’s heart chambers were malformed. The doctor went on to explain, in the best way he could, the medical options that were available to us. It was clear that he was having a difficult time speaking to me as by then I was uncontrollable, bawling my eyes out. He asked for my partner’s number and amid the din of my screams, the doctor tried to explain the situation to him.
The Day My Baby Died
Fast forward to the 27th of July. Baby Justin started to show signs of a failing heart. His heart rate dropped. He had stopped eating. His cries became a faint moan. We were well prepared by his doctors to know what these signs meant. I rushed him to the Bustamante Children’s Hospital here in Kingston, Jamaica.
There began a journey of a million steps.
For three weeks, we travelled the route to and from the hospital while our team of medical professionals made arrangements with their counterparts overseas for us to travel there. They thought that we could get further medical help there, as soon as Baby Justin was physically stable enough to travel. That would not be the case.
August 20 came and a piece of us died when Baby Justin made his transition.
The Depth Of Emptiness
For the first time during this ordeal, an enormous emptiness overtook my core.
It was so overwhelming – like nothing that I have ever experienced. I was sure there was no return. How could I get out of there? Only if I could find the strength to reach out, stretch my trembling hands up to the edge of the deep well of darkness and sadness that Baby Justin’s death had dragged me down. No, kicked me down.
In a last-ditch attempt, I pulled my zombie-like self together and three days after my baby’s passing, I cried out to Source to fill my emptiness. To make me feel alive again. Looking back, I am convinced that Source immediately responded.
Suddenly, I was reminded that I still had my first-born son, Jared. I had family, friends who had turned family. I still had LOVE. As suddenly, Love became more than anything. Love was poured into my soul and I, in turn, opened up myself to receiving it, realizing that my capacity to love and be loved is infinite.
This was the most intimate piece I have ever written to be shared by Daughters of Sheba. When I was told about the request from a reader, responding to our survey “What Woman-Related Topic Should We Do Next?” Claudette asked me to do this piece.
Since Baby Justin’s passing, I have s leaned in many times, relying on God to help her fill her emptiness. I received the infilling from my first-born child, who is now 18+ years old, my family and my friends have been the channels.