The baby died.
Three little words, uttered without emotion by my four-year old nephew. His baby sister, my niece, had just died. Quite simple–she was here and then she was gone. Just about 6 weeks old. It happens…but why is it so hard to comprehend? To deal with?
The baby dying…I don’t understand why it is so hard on me, on my family. It has been over 3 years and I am still processing the death of my niece. I still can’t think about her death without crying. She was only 6 weeks old…she was only 6 weeks old. She wasn’t even my baby. I didn’t know her, but I held her little body, changed her diaper, I had hopes and dreams for her. Is it all about me? My selfish needs and desires…was it because my hopes and dreams for the little baby girl were snatched away from me?
When she died I was angry. I couldn’t process her death then, and it seems like I still can’t process it now. I felt sorrow at her death—mostly for her parents and grandparents. I was afraid…afraid of what her death would do to my parents. Rightfully so. When the baby died my family fell apart…and hasn’t been the same since then. We all fell apart in our own ways, in our own time. We are still dealing with the fallout of her death.
What is it about the death of a baby, the death of child that is so incomprehensible? A grief that is so destructive to people and relationships, but destructive in insidious ways…destroying in slow motion? You don’t know how it affects you, your family even though you know it is destroying you. You just can’t believe it happened, is happening.
Have we lost our faith in the world? Have we lost our faith in ourselves?
Jacquelyn's Space 
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