When Friends Lose

We have a bunch of local friends. Most are tied to the church we attend. It connected us to some great people who have been our friends ever since. Those people were there for us when Andrew died. They visited us in the hospital. They cooked us meals. They dropped off gifts on the doorstep and groceries and cards and celebrated his life with us. They practically pushed our door open to spend time with us. Some brought over board games to make us laugh and get us out of our grief funk. They were there to peel us off the couch. They send cards and speak his name.

I often told them, "No, it's okay. We're fine. We don't need anything."

I also remember telling all of our visitors who came to our actual delivery room during our state of shock that while I'm not the type to ask for help, I am going to need them to kick down the door and keep us company.

One of those friends (and her husband and daughter) said goodbye to their second daughter, Alexandra last night. She was born at 23 weeks and labor couldn't be stopped. She was born at just over a pound and lived for an hour.

She was born in the same hospital and Labor & Delivery ward as Andrew, Benjamin and Claire. I couldn't help but feel those feelings of angst and sadness and longing and grief with that deep pit in my stomach as soon as I heard she was in labor. I knew the odds were not on their side and I knew what it would be like to lose a baby in that very hospital. Possibly in that very room.

What compounds the loss even more is that they conceived all of their children via IVF. They tried for years and have struggled desperately to grow their family. Their first daughter came after years of trying and prior miscarriages. And their second daughter was conceived after several rounds again, only to lose again someone so desperately wanted. These expenses have been financially burdening. Knowing they will be receiving bills in the mail months from now for their 10+ day hospital stay in addition to caring for Alexandra and their living daughter hurts.

That little nugget is Claire's age. Alexandra's big sister. Conceived of IVF as well. 

We started a GoFundMe for them. Most people who read this blog don't know my friend Kim and her husband Eric. I would've shared their story anyway. I'm so deeply sad for them.