Remembering Doria

One Father's Journey after the Death of his Daughter

6 months

5 Comments

The time went so fast, and the day went so fast (except for the slow parts). 

Today marked six months from that fateful day where we heard no heartbeat because our little Doria died. That makes half a year without hearing her cry, seeing her eyes, changing her diapers, having our sleep messed up, lifting the car seat from the car, and all those things parents expect to be annoyed by. 

We went out to dinner for a mournabration, just to talk about what things have been and what they will be. Basically, a celebration with an odd backdrop. A little bit after we sat down, we ran into a couple from our church and their children. We chatted, just generally, and a few minutes later, our waitress brought by a gift card from “a family up front.”  That was a really nice touch of grace. We and our stomachs are really grateful.

More than the gift card, though, what mattered most was just that they came up and talked to us. You hear people talk about how bad we tend to be around death and grief. That’s something we talked about in the car on the way to dinner, just how many relationships have changed, ended, or virtually ended over the past six months. I joke about how little my phone rang before, but it may as well be gone. I misplaced it for about  three weeks recently and didn’t know the difference. That’s not all bad, because I hate talking on the phone, but it’s really remarkable to see that I don’t need it anymore. Overall, it’s interesting, and pretty sad, that so many people completely drop out of your life after something like Doria’s death. It does leave a person thinking, “where’s the grace?”

As changes go, I’ve seen that one of my favorite ministries is probably coming to an end, at least for me. My struggles in keeping up with some things are likely closing the door to my travelling ministry. That one’s sad, although both of us thought it was on borrowed time in a few ways. I hate thinking that the aftermath of Doria’s death would close the door on something so neat, but it probably has. 

There should be some good changes ahead. I expect to appreciate so many of the moments with Baby #2 even more than I would have with Doria. I go back and forth on that, whether I fully like that thought or not, but it is what it is. There’s no taking things for granted after your baby dies. It’s hard to ignore that life is fragile when you’ve held your dead baby girl in your hands. For that reason, then, it’s going to be really easy to appreciate things with #2.  

I never really imagined how much things would change six months ago. I doubt that I really comprehend how much they have changed or are about to, but it’s a start. 

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5 thoughts on “6 months

  1. It was good to read your thoughts about friends finding the strength to contact and support. It is so true that some people just don’t know how to be around grief and loss and retreat. I eavesdropped on my 15 year old recently when she phoned a friend whose mummy had died, We had talked and agreed that really finding the right words doesn’t always matter and sometimes there are not the “right words” …..just the contact and acknowledging your feelings of helplessness in not knowing what to say, is enough. Her call was gawky and awkward and stilted and all the more touching and lovely for it. Thanks for the blog.

  2. Sorry I don’t call more often. I know you are both busy. We didn’t experience losing a baby but I know I wondered when we learned I was pregnant for the second time I just prayed I would have love enough for both. We worked at loving both equally.

  3. I am re-reading these old posts I haven’ seen because they were written when you were about where I am now with #2 Zoe. They are comforting me. I’m suprised to hear of you losing friends because it seems like by the time I found your blog, you had tons of commenters, likes and friends. You have tons on FB. Your story and you guys’ compassion for others is such a blessing.

    • Sorry, I’m slow. I waited for the wrist to heal and be free.

      There are a ton of commenters, and I’ve always appreciated that. A good # are people I’ve met through this experience.

      I might just be a lot more conservative about who I consider friends, but I also noticed that a lot of people I’d been there for just dropped out or got strangely busy/silent after Doria died. For those, I just decided that they made their decision, and it was time to drive on without them.

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