A friend of mine, J at My Autoimmune Life, lost her baby in January. I had a dream about her last night: I was working in a doctor’s office and chatting with nurses. I was crying, sobbing. I was telling them about this patient who’d been through a number of miscarriages and who, when she’d finally had a baby, the baby died after only 13 days. Then, after suffering the indignity of subjecting her baby to an autopsy, the doctors couldn’t find any reason why the baby died. The more I cried, the more people came around to watch. I expect they were trying to console me but they didn’t say anything…
I was sobbing. I’m still tearing remembering it. I had to get up at 5:15 a.m. to watch some TV.
While I didn’t believe it at the time, I think my miscarriages were a blessing. However, there are times when I think God’s got it wrong. As I’ve followed J, I’ve been through a full range of emotions over the past year or more – delighted for her when she looked like she’d be carrying “Littlest” to term. Concerned but happy that Littlest came into the world safely. I thought with medical science what it is, I could relax now and become a favourite auntie who regularly sends great presents.
I felt like I’ve been kicked in the gut when Littlest died. In this day and age I just hadn’t begun to contemplate Littlest dying. Oh sure, if we were talking 200 years ago when infant mortality rates were high I may have kept saying my prayer for her but this is 2011! Tiny babies just aren’t supposed to die!
Then there’s the terrible irony that makes me angry: Littlest couldn’t have asked for nicer parents and she died! J had tried and tried to carry to term and, when she finally had a beautiful baby I expected her bad luck to be over, you know? I can completely understand J’s sentiments – that she doesn’t want to talk about God at the moment. Would you?
I found myself angry with God on her behalf. How much suffering can He put people through anyway? I mean, I’d always thought that things generally turned out for the best and after a couple of years you might be grateful for certain things happening that you’d thought weren’t brilliant at the time.
It’s so hard to sit on the other side of theAtlanticfrom a friend in need. Helplessness is a familiar feeling with my being stuck on another ocean side. I’ve missed weddings and funerals but this circumstance shook me to the core. There aren’t many things that would shake my beliefs but this has.
Since I’ve started re-evaluating my life, I’ve started looking into Buddhism. I don’t expect I should be surprised that I’m finding answers there that Christianity hasn’t provided in this circumstance. I know I’m cherry-picking my religions again, but it’s the best way for me to decide how the world should be.