Max and attend a support group for parents of dead children that meets by Zoom on certain Monday evenings. We generally look forward to it and are dialing up right on time. Last night we knew about it, and all day had it in our minds to go, but had gotten caught up in the HBO series Gomorrah and just forgot about group until I was getting ready for bed at around 7:45 (I know) and Max screamed “The grief group!” and we rocketed back downstairs to zoom in.
I don’t know if this is a good sign, that we can set aside our grief and get absorbed in other things, or if this is a bad sign that we are hiding out in distractions and refusing to do the “work” of grief. Or maybe it just means we like Neopolitan gangland dramas.
A lot of people in the group were talking last night about being angry at G*d and struggling with their faith(s) since their children died. The feelings expressed were very raw and painful. I was mostly listening and thinking. It’s never much occurred to me to be angry at G*d. Why be angry at him/her/they when I can blame myself?
I feel guilty and culpable for so many aspects of Sarah’s death. Being away from home. Choosing a babysitter who was not a good fit. Thinking Sarah was safe in her bed when she obviously was not. Giving her a genetic mutation. Getting pregnant at 41. Having seizures myself. Not knowing that she was in danger when I was in New York.
Max blames himself too. When he found Sarah, she was blue in the face. Although from what I have read this is simply a sign of oxygen deprivation that accompanies death (and it also happens commonly after a grand mal seizure), Max believes that Sarah’s death occurred because she suffocated face-down in her pillow. I don’t believe that was the mechanism of her death, but even so, I don’t think this would have been his “fault.” He keeps saying that (1) he may have heard a small noise during the night of the 18th over our baby monitor, but he was too tired to investigate, and thus missed a chance to save Sarah from putative suffocation; or (2) he could and should as a responsible parent have “forced” her to sleep on her back.
I think that both of these suppositions are fanciful. Sarah made little noises most nights that I would hear on the baby monitor, and unless she was outright crying, or up for good, I just went back to sleep. She gave snorts, vocalizations, sighs, and other sleep noises like anyone else. They were not a signal of trauma. I also really don’t see her agreeing or learning to sleep on her back. She had a will of iron and there was no way she was going to go for that. Finally, Sarah had GERD (reflux) and she would have been miserable on her back.
Our group leader says that what she likes hearing in all this “mishegoss” and mental masturbation (my terms) is that Max and I share these thoughts with each other and receive comfort from the other person. I suppose she’s right, we are very hard on ourselves as individuals but we support each other well.
The First Year Without Sarah 