Karma

Kar·ma /ˈkärmə/

Noun (in Hinduism and Buddhism) the sum of a person's actions in this and previous states of existence, viewed as deciding their fate in future existences.

My entire life I have tried to do the “right” thing. I have tried to be kind, compassionate, and understanding of all living creatures. I mean, I am the girl who sobs in the driveway over a baby squirrel who fell out of a nest. I try to advocate and be understanding of everyone and what they are feeling. If I have hurt someone, I always will apologize for not “if” I hurt you but “that” I hurt you. I hate when I see someone being bullied for appearance (even if they bully themselves), religion, sexual orientation, their gender identification, etc. It’s not right and I will always say that. I have stood up to try to protect those who don’t feel like they can protect themselves. I have tried to advocate for my patients, treat my patients with respect, and give the best care to people who are going through some of the worst days of their lives. I know it is not fair for me to judge anyone’s decisions in life because I am not in their shoes. I want to make people laugh, smile, and feel good about themselves and who they are. I want people to feel safe with me.

I do this because I believed in Karma, and I didn’t want it to kick my ass. I believed that if I was a “good person” good things would come to me and my family. I never wanted to “get what I deserve” in a bad way. I have lived my entire life trying my best to be a “good person.” Then I get dealt this hand in life-my first and only child ending up dead.

I think if you ask any parent, “What’s the worst thing you can imagine?” I am certain they will say something happening to their child(ren). Every parent experiences fear that something might or could happen to their child. It's terrifying when they fall off the playground and they need stitches. It's terrifying when they get the flu and need to be in the hospital for fluids. It is scary a lot of the time. And as they get older and they get bigger so do the fears. It’s terrifying when they get in their first car accident. It’s terrifying if you find out they have gotten behind the wheel after drinking alcohol. It’s terrifying to find out your child is dealing with the death of her child. It’s all terrifying.

Someone described parenting as your heart living outside of your body. I think that is a perfect analogy. The love that I feel for Adam is so crazy. I had no idea these feelings could even exist. Its is so overwhelming and brings me to tears as I type this out. I’ve never known a love like this. I was so NOT prepared for it. That means I have also never known a loss like this. A piece of my heart is gone from me. And dead. I won’t ever get that piece back.

When Adam died, a piece of myself died as well. I am still learning which pieces remain and which pieces have changed and which pieces are gone forever. As I think about who I am and who I am becoming, “Why Me?” thoughts pop into my head. Why did this happen to me when I have lived my life trying to do what’s right?

There’s no answer. I don’t think it happened to me because I am “strong enough” to handle it. I don’t think it happened to me because “I am brave enough to share my story and bring awareness.” I don’t think it happened because “ I am in a secure enough relationship that can handle it.” I don’t think it was meant for me. I think it just happened.

I didn’t have a choice but to be strong when this happened. This experience forced me to build this strength. I had a choice- to allow this load to crush me or figure out fast how to be strong enough to carry it. Even though I carry it well, does not mean I am far away from it crushing me at any given moment. I am one cute little boy away from a panic attack in the grocery store. I am one pregnancy complaint away from running into the stairwell at work sobbing. I am one pregnancy announcement away from being sent into a whirlwind of “THEY DON’T KNOW WHAT COULD HAPPEN TO THEM.” I am one moment away all the time, from not being “strong enough.”

I am not brave while sharing my story. I am terrified. Terrified of every person who has judged me and will judge me. I’m terrified of people who say “abortion is murder,” without allowing themselves to think about what we went through. I am terrified everyday for women who will get similar diagnoses- who’s world will come crashing down, who’s happiness gets stolen. I share my story and my truth for them. I don’t want them to feel like they are alone or like they don’t know anyone who has experienced this. I share my story to bring awareness to everyone who votes. I want to allow people to see the truth behind late term abortions- not what the politicians want you to think or hear. Fear has caused me to share my story. Fear for our future as the heartbeat laws are brought into effect. Fear for those women’s babies who will be forced to suffer. Fear for the shame and guilt that mothers who choose to terminate for medical reasons will be forced to feel.

I don’t think that because Alex and I are “secure” enough is why this happened to us. I don’t’ think that because I have an amazing husband who I adore, means we should have to go through this. I don’t think anyone is secure enough for this. There is no amount of respect, love, and security that makes your child dying ok. I am grateful for all of those things. I am SO grateful for Alex and the fact that we do have respect, love and security. It could make this situation more difficult if those did not exist between us. But we were only married for 7 months before getting thrown into the ocean during an insane storm. We were drowning. Trying to save ourselves and trying to save each other. We grieve in very different ways and want to respect each others healing process. We should be in our “honeymoon” stage and instead feel like we are numb, crawling in the sand and stuck on a stranded island. We have to figure out how to climb mountains, build a boat, start a fire, do anything to get us back to safety. I know we will find safety again, but until then we will do whatever it takes together.

After all of this, I’ve come to the stage of acceptance. Accidents just happen. Nature doesn’t have laws that make me immune from suffering. Suffering is universal. When the “Why me?” thoughts enter my brain, they allow a party to get started-a pity party- and I did not RSVP.