Premature labor and a world painted Grey.

I believed there were two kinds of problems in the world. The ones which could be solved and the ones which couldn't be solved. So you went ahead and got rid of the former ones by solving them and the latter ones by making peace with them.  I had a simple rule which I thought befitted our simple existences, simply. 

And then I went into premature labor and gave birth to a still born child. 

He was alive when I got to the hospital. Kicking his mommy and just floating around. I saw him when i had the emergency ultrasound. He was waving his arms. I heard his loud heartbeat. Superfast and strong. My boy was a fine one, I believe. I was in labor and around that time is when the contractions started picking up pace. 

Bringing life in this world is a miracle but then there is that portion of this world who does something in the middle. Like I did. I didn't bring life nor did I take away a life. Just something in the middle. 

Now the science of it was that my son was too small to put up with the contractions. Funnily enough it was my uterus who squeezed the life out of my little one. Ironic, isn't it. With every contraction the uterine walls closed in on him and lead him to his death. I sometimes wonder if it was acknowledged by him on any level; The sheer audacity of what was happening. Did he feel betrayed? Did he 'feel' anything at all?  Can you imagine doing something like that? Talk about grey areas and problems that cant be solved yet can't be made peace with either?

Human mind is a funny, funny thing. It makes up stories to make life more liveable. More bearable. I have heard so many of those. "You should be thankful to God, What if he was born with a disorder?". "God has his ways to teach human beings lessons. This just could be a punishment for something. Mend your ways and you will find peace". "You know this little boy of yours will hold your hand and take you to heaven". "You will have your next one and you will forget this ever happened". So many stories. So many well intended word. So much bull shit! 

I'm not sure I understand fully. I mean when people say this to you, is it cause they don't have any thing better to say? Or are there those who actually believe this? I mean how can some one deceive themselves like that? 

How can a woman ever think that a child with a disability is worse than a dead child? Do you see that in me, when you say that to me? Dear well intended-yet-stupid person, a kid with a disability would have made me as happy as a kid on a honor roll in an Ivy League school. 

How can anyone ever be ok with the fact that going to "heaven" is better than the life of their child. Parenting is not about what you get, its about what you give. If living a life in fire is what it takes to give your kid a good life, so be it. Look around you. You are bound to find people who literally did exactly that! A fire which only exists in imagination scares you that much, don't be a parent then.

I feel sad for the ones who think God dishes out punishment like this. I am sorry for not being able to relate to you. I hope whatever childhood trauma you suffered, no other child has to go through. Amen! Also one child is never a substitute for another. Don't insult me or my first born by saying that. He will always be a Mama's boy and Mama would never forget him. 

I wish everyone just understood how this is just how it is. Its a grey colored problem. There is nothing that can be said which explains it or justifies it. I wish everyone pretended that they didn't hear about it or just knew how it really felt. I wish I, a person who normally has no expectations, stopped expecting all this. I wish there was more black and white in this situation. 

The thing with this world of grey is that there is a lot of sadness. There is an empty heart beat. There is distance from the world cause the world doesn't get you and you cant explain it to anyone. As the above mentioned paragraphs yell out to you, there is a lot of bitterness at times. There is a lot of exhaustion and sleepless nights. There is rage directed at those who love you yet cant seem to get you. There are smoke rings and Billie Holiday. There are constant reminders to yourself that submission to God is saying yes and only saying yes. There are efforts at stepping out. There are attempts at conversations and living a life. God's plan, gotta say yes right... but mostly there is only sadness and grief and tears. No solutions and certainly no peace.