Being Aware of Our Child's Demons: When We're Ready

I thought I understood what Mandy was going through after Kitty died.  I could see how much she suffered, although having never lost a child myself, I did not know exactly what she was thinking or feeling.  I could only imagine the unimaginable loss and pain. 

Two and a half years later, I gained insight.  I heard my daughter speak.

In September 2015, Mandy and son-in-law were invited to talk at a session sponsored by my grief coalition.  Specifically, they were asked to speak on the topic of guilt and grief, to tell their story and to share how they continue to grow through and beyond the guilt.

Son-in-law had already delivered approximately 65 speeches, all to DWI offenders, in-house treatment centers and drivers' ed classes.  This was their first support group presentation and the first time they teamed up for a speech. 

That night, I learned two things I had not before realized. 

Mandy began the presentation with an introduction.  Son-in-law followed with the details of the accident.  Then they got to the part about the guilt.  That's when my child opened up - two things she never told me personally, I discovered in this group setting.  It's very possible that she assumed I would have just known, that it was obvious.

But it wasn't obvious to me ... neither should have been a problem for her.  But they were.

She suffered from survivors guilt.  Why Kitty and not her?  She felt that she should have, could have done more to save her baby.  In reality, there was nothing more Mandy could have done.  I knew that from day one.  But it was one of her demons.  I'm sure she and her counselor had discussions about the guilt, so there wasn't a need to hash it over with me, but I wish I had been aware.  Maybe I could have helped Mandy by being more reassuring.

The second struggle she had was with her pregnancy.  As she worded it, "How could I be happy for this new baby while mourning the loss of my other child?"  She talked about the difficulty of joyful anticipation while grieving.  Was there anything at all I could have said or done to alleviate her internal conflict?  No ... I was never in the same situation ... how could I fully comprehend her emotions?  How could I have helped?

Maybe my unawareness was a protection of sorts.  Subconsciously, it's possible that if I had realized the survivors guilt and conflict Mandy suffered, it would have been too much for me to bear.  Who knows how I would have reacted or what I would have said and done.  It was better left for the counselor.

My guess is that there is even more I still have to learn and understand.  When the time is right, I will see or hear something to add to my list of 'unawares'.  Rather than viewing them as me being oblivious, I have to believe that my lack of awareness was - and still is - a protection, keeping me headed straight, moving forward on my grief path.