Hard Times

It's been a difficult few days.

Our very good friends M&B, who have a beautiful 2-year-old child and had just finished a smooth, perfect second pregnancy, lost their darling baby three days after he was born. It was an extremely rare condition in which too much blood was going to the brain and not enough to the heart. This is oversimplifying it of course, but at the end of the day the fact remains: He is no longer with us.

I am hurting for them so much, and not at all able to comprehend the pain of returning home to an empty nursery, and empty crib, and an empty belly all at once. Although I understand the rarity of it, of course it also gives me some pause as I enter the second half of my own pregnancy. I know you cannot live your life in fear, and I do try my best to focus only positive energy this baby's way, but the prospect of that kind of loss is staggering and heartbreaking. Mostly, though, I just ache for my friends.

We spoke to them last week after we got the news, and they were very philosophical and supremely generous: M. told us, unprompted, "If anything this turn of events makes us more happy and more hopeful for your pregnancy, because we have a new sense of the value of these lives, the joy they can bring, and how much they should be cherished." Truly, it was almost too much. I could never have that kind of selflessness. Or even fake it.

There are four couples in our "group" -- coincidentally, we were all pregnant at once, all due within 6 months of each other. The kids would have all been in the same grade at school. I imagine B. will recognize that void forever. I think we all will.