One in heaven...

“How many kids do you have?” seems to be the cruel question of the year. Maybe I just never noticed when people asked me before, but now I am painfully and acutely aware whenever this “getting to know you” pleasantry is exchanged. It’s a nauseating gut shot that leaves me awkwardly tripping over words. I never know what to say.

I had two, I have one.

But that’s not something you tell the little old cashier at Walmart who’s busy making googly eyes with your toddler. She’s just trucking along, waiting for the last 2 hours of her shift to end. She asks because she needs something to break up the monotony of her evening, not expecting a grieving mother to drop a sob story in her lap.

I have one.

As all of my fellow mommies in this awful walk of life know, you can’t just leave it at that. Sure, it’s the easiest answer. But the guilt of sweeping your other child under the rug for the sake of simplicity will eat away and gnaw holes through your heartstrings. It seems as though we have a new mission in life. Validating our babies’ existence becomes a purpose driven goal. They are no different than our living children when it comes to love and overwhelming pride. But since having a dead baby is taboo and uncomfortable we are forced to choke over words to avoid making the asker feel awkward.

I have two.

Seems like the most appropriate answer of all. But that opens the floodgate of questions. 

“Boy or girl?”

Easy answer. Beautiful baby boy.

“What’s his name?”

Still easy, Noah Ethan.

Then comes the harder questions. 

“How old is he”.

Even that one can be answered to the extent of “He was born August 6^th”. Strange way to answer the question, but still allows you to avoid a difficult subject with a complete stranger. Then comes 

“Where is he?”

I hate this one. He’s buried in a box 3 feet under. Thanks for asking!

So without fail, telling them I have two children always ends in an awkward exchange about what happened. Then I take my change and leave the store quickly to avoid looking like a psycho mom that can’t accept my loss who walks around claiming to have children that I don’t.

So, for now when people ask, I continue with a tongue tied rant that probably makes no sense. I figure that “one on earth and one in heaven” will probably be the answer that I stick with in the future. But not until I am able to come up with a Reader’s Digest version for why Noah died. It’s not that I mind talking about him. But I don’t feel like giving a ten minute explanation every time I run into the Piggly Wiggly for a gallon of milk. I think I just need to get a T-shirt….