[Magdalen] A birthday musing

[James Oppenheimer-Crawford]

Some of those old losses just never ever go away.  We were trying to get
pregnant for years, and tried many things. Finally we achieved success.  We
came in for another ultrasound and the technician suddenly needed to talk
with another consultant. I was looking at the screen and could see the
little spot of black. I didn't want to think it, but I knew our child was
gone. In a short time, that's essentially what they told us.
It tore me up, but it took its real toll on my wife.  Lord knows, that is
no surprise.  She was carrying her (I always figured she would have been a
girl), and she was the one who stayed in the hospital while the miscarriage
happened.
As all things do, time went by, we got on with our lives and tried to
figure out a way to move forward without children (adoption turned out to
be impossible also).
Years later, we were approached by Planned Parenthood. They had been very
supportive when we were facing our lives as infertile, and helped set up a
local group for people with similar concerns.  They were having a meeting
of clergy to help address the issue of infertile couples and what they
might need from their spiritual leaders. Could we come and give a short
presentation on our own experiences?  We said yes, and were happy to help.
I prepared a small address, summarizing some things. Putting it together
brought back a lot of the memories, and I was able to put down some points
on how being infertile made me feel.
I remember saying that it is as if a part of me has been torn away. "I have
been maimed," I said, and I began to weep, had to stop for a moment. I had
not anticipated how hard recalling all of it would hit me. The feedback
afterward was positive. Several pastors came up to me to thank me for
dramatically letting them know just how devastating infertility can be for
some. One pastor came to me and said, with a look of some surprise, "I had
NO IDEA!!"  I felt I did some good. If it merely inspires some pastors to
think twice before they go wild celebrating Mothers' Day, it was worth it.

I don't think of Cecelia every day, but she's always there even if I don't
seem to notice. If she were alive today, Cecilia would be about thirty one.
I wonder what kind of a woman she would be, if she would have babies of her
own, if she would be a musician of some note, if she would be ...

That loss never really goes away.  Of course, for you, it is so much more
of a loss.

We do, however, have the hope that one day, in a different place, we may
see them again, and that even though we don't see them, they are just as
real as we are -- just not on this earth. I'll hang on to that hope.

James W. Oppenheimer-Crawford
*“A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved,
except in memory. LLAP**”  -- *Leonard Nimoy

On Mon, Nov 28, 2016 at 9:41 AM, Jay Weigel <jay.weigel at gmail.com> wrote:

> This day is the anniversary of the birth of my first child, Benjamin
> Weigel. He would have been 46 today, which is a scary enough thought in
> itself. I often wonder what kind of man he would have turned out to be. We
> only had him for 3 months, barely enough time to get to know him, when he
> died of SIDS. We weren't all *that* young when he was born (26 and 27), but
> we weren't financially stable and were living paycheck to paycheck during
> my pregnancy. My late ex lost his job while I was in the hospital and it
> was several weeks before he found another, so it was an "interesting" time
> to be with a young baby, but we survived. We were just getting back on our
> feet again when we lost him. I sometimes wonder if I would have stayed with
> his father had I not wanted another baby so badly. Sam was born 20 months
> after Benjamin died.
>