Tag Archives: loss of a child

Jade

I spent much of yesterday in quiet contemplation of what kind of person our dear Jade might have become.

I didn’t do child bearing well. My husband and I married in 1969. We waited for a couple of years to try to have children until both of us had steady jobs and we had purchased a home. I lost two babies before we finally had our son Brian in 1978. (RH negative negative for me and positive for our babies was the main problem). We lost another baby after Brian and finally had our beautiful daughter, Jade. Our family was complete. My husband decided to have a vasectomy so I wouldn’t have to carry the burden of birth control – though that was a bit ironic with our history.

I came home from a community college night class to see all the lights on in my home and my in-laws’ car in the driveway. When I entered the house my in-laws stood up and said, “She’s gone.” In a panic I ran all over the house, not only not finding Jade, but all of her things were gone. The Lewises had decided that while waiting for me, they would gather up her stuff so I wouldn’t have to. My husband was gone, too. He had been taken to the police station because Jade had died under his care.

While we sat in silence, our then 2-year-old son Brian came out dragging Jade’s blanket. He had been crying and his sweet eyes were swollen. He walked to the trash can and threw the blanket in, saying, “Broken.” My husband returned home. The coroner had determined she died of SIDS. (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.) He simply crumpled when he came to me, buried his face in my lap and sobbed.

We both seriously contemplated suicide the pain was so great. Finally, we realized that we had others to think of. We talked and decided we would live for each other, help each other through this, and raise Brian with all the love we had. I learned that night that nothing could ever hurt me like that again.

I got to share two months with her. Each year I sit and think of her particularly on February 5th, the day she left us. Some people said it was God’s Will. I didn’t accept that then and still don’t. I just can’t. What I do believe is that we will meet again some day, recognize each other, and spend eternity together.

I hope that the experts will one day solve the mystery of what causes SIDS and what, if anything, can be done to prevent it, so that others won’t have to go through this. I’m thankful that it caused us to be stronger as a family, to cherish Brian even more, and actually be able to find joy in life again.

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February 1981

Jade 2-5-1980 - 2-5-1981

Our minister said, “Jade was born, lived a little while, and then died.”

The doctor said she was ‘perfect’ at her two month checkup. She got her shots, we brought her home. I went to a class in Tulsa that night, having gone stir-crazy trying to take care of Jade plus our 2-year-old son, Brian. My husband was baby sitting.

I came home to the house ablaze with lights. My in-laws’ car was in the driveway. Jade was gone. My husband was crying. My in-laws had gone through the house, gathering everything and putting it out of sight, trying to spare me. Our son came into the living room with Jade’s blanket. He went to the trash can, put the blanket in, and said, “Broken.”

She was ‘perfect,’ but she was gone. She died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome (SIDS). They could explain little about it. They STILL can’t explain it all these years later.

I learned several things –

  • Your life is never the same
  • Nothing hurts as badly as losing your child
  • The importance of all else pales in comparison
  • There is something way down inside each of us that allows/compels us to survive – even with a hole the size of a cannon ball right through the middle of you. With us, after we each seriously considered suicide, it was each other and our son.
  • I still have to admit that I resent the idea people told me that ‘it was God’s will.’ I’m sorry, but I can’t handle it, even all these years later, that someone that powerful would do something like that. It might be comforting to some, but not to me.
  • I look at the world differently. When I’m ready to toss my husband into a hole in the back yard because he has used up my last thread of patience, I realize how lucky we are to have had each other for what will be 55 years in June.
  • I value my friends, my loved ones, even more. I realize how short life can be and how important it is to let each of them know how important they are to you.
  • I still can’t hold a baby without crying – afraid for him or her. I still worry when I see a mother with a new baby, holding my breath and so glad there are monitors now.
  • I still can’t go to a funeral. I fell apart at Jade’s funeral all those years ago and still do the same thing now, bringing all the attention to me, instead of the person we’re remembering at the service, so I don’t go.
  • We treasure our son, being thankful to know and love him.
  • I can meet someone and instantly can FEEL if they have suffered loss or not.

Today is a sad day for us, but also one that is important because I am so thankful for all I have. I hope to meet her again some day.

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