Is This Your First?

"Is this your first baby?"

Oh, the dreaded question.  This little string of 5 unassuming words has struck fear and sorrow in the hearts and minds of every single baby loss momma I know.  The inner battle the commences as soon as this inquiry escapes the lips of a stranger is indescribable.  

Immediately, the options rocket to the surface:

Option A: Do I tell this person that no, this is not my first baby... my first baby was actually born a year ago, but she died?

Option B: Do I tell her that yes, this is my first baby and let the conversation rest there?

To those who have never faced this quandry, it may not seem like a big deal.  But to those of us with an angel in heaven, it is a HUGE deal... one that can change our mood or productivity for an entire day or more.  

Yesterday, I was at the doctor's office getting my 1-hour Glucose test done.  I gleefully consumed the orange goop and endured the horrific elevator music for more than an hour, because I was just so thankful to be this far along in my pregnancy with Gianna.  Gianna.  My second baby.  I did the same test with Whitney when I was also 26 weeks pregnant.  The phlebotomist asked me then if this was my first baby.  That time, it really was my first baby.  I knew about Whitney's condition, but decided not to mention it when the woman started talking to me about what a joy daughters are.  For that brief 5 minute conversation, I pretended that everything with Whitney was ok, and that I would actually get to bring her home.  But I knew differently.  But for those brief, fleeting moment, it felt good to dream of that scenario.

I don't know why I didn't think about it or prepare an answer in my mind for the inevitable question: Is this your first baby?  Immediately, like I said, Options A & B arose.  If I go with Option A, telling this stranger with a needle in my arm that 'no, this isn't my first... my first baby died' carries with it a couple of problems.  

One, can I say it without crying?  (I've gotten better at this, but it really just depends on the day.)     

Two, I didn't really feel like hearing again, "Oh, I am so sorry."  Followed by awkward silence for the remainder of the time Mrs. Dracula is sucking my blood.  I can't explain it, but I actually feel sorry for  people who ask me this question and I then I tell them Whitney died.  It just goes to show how uncomfortable our society is with death.

And Three, Do I really want to get into a conversation about this?  Or do I really just want to give the blood and get out?  

On the other hand, Option A acknowledges my baby.  It tells another person that yes, she was real and she was here.  I held her in my arms, kissed her cheeks, touched her nose, and have her footprints in my Bible.  Like the ancient Egyptian proverb says, "To speak the name of the dead is to make them live again."

And then there is Option B.  Just simply nod and give a quick "yes" when asked if this is my first baby.  But there is, of course, one major MAJOR problem with that.  It denies my firstborn.  It erases my baby for the purpose of that conversation.  And it breaks my heart.  But on the flip-side, it usually ends the conversation, no one is uncomfortable, and really, the stranger is none-the-wiser.

So what did I do yesterday?  I went with Option B.  I knew that I'd only be in the blood suckee chair for literally, a few moments longer, and just wanted to get out of there.  I nodded in the affirmative, that yes this is my first baby.  Mrs. Dracula just smiled in return, withdrew the needle and wrapped my arm in some sticky flesh-colored gauze.  (For the record, I'd have preferred a Scooby Doo band-aid.)

Last weekend, at the Volunteer Brunch for my work, a lady asked me the same question.  Only this time, I went with Option A.  I told her that actually, we had a daughter who was born in February, but she passed away.  So this would be our first "take home baby."  It was a more comfortable setting for me to be vulnerable in that way.  And even though it is still awkward to go with Option A sometimes, as Whitney's mom, I get over that pretty quickly.  

I have come a long way in this past year in this area specifically.  I will never forget the first time after Whitney was born that someone asked me that question.  I had just become a Mary Kay consultant and was being introduced at the weekly group meeting.  The district director asked me to tell a little about myself, and asked if I had any kids.  Why hadn't I anticipated this question?!?  My whole body went cold and I just answered "no."  For the rest of the night, and the next days following, I beat myself up over and over for this answer.  It was only one month after Whitney was born.  My body was still showing signs of her birth, and I had just denied her existence!  Oh, it was bad.

But I have since learned to give myself grace in this area.  I know she was here.  All of you know she was here.  And most importantly, she's still in my heart and praising God in heaven.  So sometimes, the situation calls for an Option A answer.  Other times, its Option B.  And I am learning to be ok with that.  But its taken quite a while.