When a new life enters the world, time is measured in fleeting moments. You marvel at how dramatically everything can shift in such a brief span. Just hours before, life felt one way, yet now, you cannot ignore the profound transformation that has occurred. You always believed you understood love, but the depth of your feelings now reveals a capacity for love that renders previous experiences dull and flat. Initially, you track your baby’s age in hours, then days, and soon transition to weeks, a system that feels methodical: 6 weeks, 8 weeks, 12 weeks. This aligns with the milestones outlined in parenting books. Eventually, this method becomes cumbersome, prompting a shift to months. You hardly fathom that one day, the measurement will extend to YEARS. In fact, you might find yourself calculating your own age based on your child’s.
In the aftermath of a child’s death, this experience of time transforms yet again. How could it be that Leo was vibrant and playful just moments before I reached the water’s edge? Search efforts have been ongoing for hours. Leo has been gone a day! It has now been one week since our lives unraveled. Two weeks. Three. Can it really be a month? Do we begin to count in months now? Yet, his belongings remain—his favorite shoes still sit by the door, and he continues to receive mail.
When we reflect on weeks, we recall the specific Thursday at 6 PM. In terms of months, we think of the 8th, each date a reminder of our grief. Will there ever be a time when we measure time in YEARS? Or even decades? I believe so. Leo will remain forever at not quite 12 ½.
In the early years, you celebrated milestones, often wishing away the tough days, yet secretly desiring to savor each moment of his childhood. Now, after the loss of a child, the chasm between the ‘before’ and ‘after’ of your family’s narrative grows wider, while simultaneously, you yearn for time to pass more quickly, as the thought of decades without him feels insurmountable.
If you are already familiar with Clara, you undoubtedly hold her in high regard; she embodies resilience in the face of unimaginable loss. Her blog, once a humorous glimpse into a typical mom’s life, has transformed into a powerful tribute to her son, her faith, and her remarkable strength. Clara’s memoir, Rare Bird: A Memoir of Loss and Love, is now available. While her story is undeniably filled with sorrow, its core is one of faith, love, and hope—a narrative as inspiring as the woman who penned it. You will find her to be a true hero by the journey’s end, as she has been to many.
For those interested in understanding more about pregnancy and home insemination, this excellent resource on treating infertility from the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists can be quite helpful. Additionally, to explore the intricacies of a couple’s fertility journey in the context of intracervical insemination, you can visit Make A Mom.
Moreover, for further insights into the process, check out this article from our other blog post, Intracervical Insemination.
In summary, the experience of time shifts dramatically through the life cycle of a child and especially in the wake of loss. The progression from hours to years marks not just the passage of time, but also the profound impact of love and grief.