Today I found myself in a situation where I had to explain what happened to my sons rather unexpectedly. There are quite a few new teachers to the building this year and I have been dreading "the question," the about how many kids you have...but that is not how the conversation got started.
Standing in the hallway this morning with our new librarian, she called me Jennifer by mistake. She remembered my last name and was puzzled by the initials on my necklace and innocently asked. I kind of blurted out the short version of what happened and watched her eyes fill with tears and she reached out for me to give me hug. As she hugged me she said, "I've been there and lost two of my own."
My eyes misted over too...and instantly I felt ok. We said no more but both stood there with what I call the "grief smile," the look you get when you try, but can't, smile, holding back tears and somewhat grimacing. My first impression of her was that she was a little quirky and tried a little too hard to be chipper...I understand why now because I feel like I am filled with that same awkwardness most days.
This stranger is now a life line...someone who gets it. It is such a relief just knowing she is there even if we never utter another word about our missing babies.