Firsts

For all of us who are grieving there are many firsts we have to go through. They are milestones that we must somehow endure. We tell ourselves that as we get through each of these firsts, we are somehow one step farther along in our grief process.

I've talked quite a bit about my firsts on this blog. I have talked about my first trip home and how hard it was. I have talked about the first Christmas without our son. I have written about having flashbacks the first time I go back to places that I associate with our loss. There were other firsts that perhaps I didn't write about, like my first birthday without my son, or the first time I found myself in a children's department after he died.

So many firsts. And mostly, these firsts have been associated with sad feelings.

But what about the happier firsts? Don't they deserve to be recognized as well? If my goal is to find my new normal. A normal where I am happy again, then shouldn't I also be writing about my happy firsts??

To be fair, I've already written about one of these happy firsts. Going back to volunteer at the school that I love was my first big step in a positive direction.

But last week I experienced another BIG first. Really, for me it was huge. So huge in fact, that I made a point of mentioning it to my husband.

I've made it a habit to hide the facebook statuses of most of my friends who have recently had babies. It's a defense mechanism that my fellow infertiles and BLM's know well. But I have one friend who hardly ever posts on facebook. She had struggled for years with infertility and recently gave birth to twins which were a result of IVF.

So I'm innocently scrolling down my news feed when I come across a photo of her Mom holding the two babies. "What a cute photo," I thought to myself. I marvelled at how lucky she was to have those two amazing babies and how happy her mother must be. I "liked" the photo. Then I realized something. I actually did like that photo. I didn't just push the button because that's what you were supposed to do. I didn't just do it so as not to appear like the bitter woman who's baby died and therefore can't be happy for anyone else with a baby.

I was actually happy for her. That photo made me feel happy and what I saw was just a grandmother holding two very cute babies. This is huge for me. It's the FIRST time I've been able to see a photo or a real life baby and not immediately think of my son. I didn't cringe. I didn't get that horrible feeling at the pit of my stomach. I didn't feel jealous or ask why her and not me.

I didn't do any of those things. I just felt happy for her.

It was only later upon reflection that I realized what a huge thing this was. It was the first time I was able to see a baby and not feel like I was dying inside.

I'm not saying I'm cured of my aversion to babies just yet. But this was a great first step. And it's nice to be able to have a few firsts to write about that aren't sad.