Right around Sarah
Catherine’s birthday last month, a good friend sent me this poem.
It so perfectly captures the
thoughts that go through my head when someone inevitably asks me how many
children I have. And it’s the prefect
answer to the question.
I remember writing about this
very topic last year around this time. I
was still in the height of my grief and I had no idea how to answer. I would feel terrible not honoring Sarah
Catherine by including her in our children, but I’d stumble over the question
and awkward silence would follow.
It’s taken a lot of time and
a lot of courage, but I am finally able to speak up and “count” Sarah. In fact, just before I saw the poem above, I
was with a group and someone said to me, “you have only have 2 children.” It halted me in my tracks and I finally spoke
up.
“No, I have three.”
…
“We lost Sarah Catherine, but
she still counts. I have three.”
There was a slight awkward
pause, the person admitted to forgetting about our loss (ouch, but
understandable) and then the conversation moved on. Thankfully with none of the pitying looks
that I wrote about last time.
I stood up for myself. I stood up for Sarah Catherine. It wasn’t a huge thing. It was 2 sentences, but it made a huge
impact, at least for me.
It showed me that I can
include Sarah Catherine when I tell people about my children. And as long as I handle the situation with
confidence, others can feel sad with me,
instead of pity for me.
It’s a huge step in the right
direction.
So, how many children do I
have?
I have three.
I have two that run and one
that flies.
Dude is 6, Spud is 4, and
Sarah Catherine would be 1.
