Do You Have Any Kids?

This question seems to get asked of me more at this job than at any other I've ever had. I don't know if it's just the sheer number of women I deal with, or if this women are inclined to make more small talk, but at least twice a week I get asked, "So, do you have any kids?"

That question always hurt a little. The entire time I've been at this job, we have been trying to conceive. Every inquiry was a reminder that we were failing and would reignite my concern that time was running out.

Finally, when I got pregnant, it stopped hurting. I could say with a smile, "Not yet." Knowing inside that soon the answer would be easy and happy.

But life had other plans. Now I'm back to painful -- far more painful than it had ever been. Because now the answer isn't simple. If I say "yes," there are almost always follow-up questions. "Oh, are they in school?" Then it starts to open up the wounds as I explain that they have passed. It also makes it uncomfortable for the asking party. I've even tried on several occasions to explain immediately. "I had twins, but.." Yet I'm always interrupted before I can finish. "Aww. How old are they now?"

When I brought this up to someone recently, they suggested I just say "no".. simply to avoid having to explain further. But the idea of doing that felt like an affront to motherhood and to my children. I do have a son and a daughter. I couldn't deny their existence or pretend that they didn't happen.

I didn't have a miscarriage, or even a stillbirth; I held my breathing and kicking children in my arms. To say I didn't have children was an insult -- a lie -- I couldn't bear.

To say yes opens myself up to all manner of hurtful questions. To say no is a painful refusal to acknowledge Jasper and Bodhi as a significant part of my life. For me, the latter is out of the question.. no matter how much the former makes for awkward conversation.

I have to put their importance, existence, and influence in my life above my own discomfort. So the best I've come up with is to answer immediately, "They're both deceased." 

It leaves no room for interruption, and any questions are then about how they passed or the day of their delivery. I'd much rather answer those questions -- another chance to share their story.

They may no longer be here, but I wished for them. I carried them. I birthed them. I held them. I talked to them.. And I love them.

I am a mother, and I have two children.

(If you would like to help us have our second chance, please visit gofundme.com/shilorfund)