I told Mabel’s story to a patient who was kind enough to ask- but had been rude to my staff and frankly too cavalier and too familiar with me. I will tell my daughter’s story as often as I can, but I didn’t like how she asked so nonchalantly “so, what happened to your baby?” It wasn’t nerves or awkwardness; I think it was her personality. “So you knew, then?” she asked matter-of-factly when I told her about the low fluid, the non functioning kidneys and potential for small lungs. “No, we didn’t know if she would live or die. No one could tell. We just had to wait and see when she was born.” I was annoyed that she seemed to imply that knowing ahead of time made it easier for me. It minimized all the grieving I did in my pregnancy and all the grieving I did (and am still doing) afterwards. Worst of all was her casualness about it all. I was left with the impression that she thought it could never happen to her. Newsflash- it could. It probably won’t, but it could. For the first time, I felt some regret about sharing.
Have you ever shared your loved one’s story and regretted it afterwards?