Hi, my name is Nita. And six years ago, my son died. Of what, you ask? Oh, nothing. He just died because I guess that's what babies do sometimes. And because of that, I am taking a personal day.
What a fuzzy-headed baby boy!
That day changed my life forever. For those of you who haven't yet, and I pray NEVER, go through something like getting a call at work at 10:32 in the morning from your husband that the baby is blue and won't wake up, you will probably say "Well, of course it did. What else could be expected?" But there are things about the death of a child that are so different than losing anyone else in your life.
One of my favorite pictures
On that day, I became a certified member of the "Mothers who've lost their children" Club. And let me tell you, this club, while all the other members are wonderful people and share a bond with you no one else does, EVERY member of this club would give anything to disband and have their tattoos and scars removed and regret every second of the day they got their membership card.
Because once you are a member of this club, you now have "options" when answering the "How many children do you have?" question. See, it's not like when your grandma or aunt or even parent dies. No one asks you that question, so you don't every REALLY have to answer it truthfully. But when your child dies, you have one of three options, and the one picked depends on your level of grief, repair, when you are asked or who is asking. Option 1: Include the child in the count and share your story with the person. This option usually makes you sad and the other person feel uncomfortable and like they have to apologize. Option 2: Include the child in the count but pray the person never asks to see a current family picture (because contrary to Emma's belief, you cannot just turn your camera to the sky and get an updated picture of your baby - Trust me, I've tried). Option 3: Just leave that child out of the count. This is the "easy, but usually makes you sick to your stomach when you choose it" option.
Now that you are a member of this Elite club, your heart breaks every time you hear a story of some other mother who has lost her child. And it is with true sympathy, because you know the pain that comes with this membership. And you know how complicated it is to say the right thing to people when they deal with loss, because you know first-hand how unintentionally offensive and callous people can be when trying to help you heal. People who haven't gone through pain like this, don't realize how hurtful the things they say to make themselves feel better about it can be.
Now that you are a member, you know what it's like to plan a funeral in 3 days and to have to pick a coffin for someone that may only require one person to carry it. And you know all of the discounts that you get on such services because "people don't plan for these things to happen."
My three guys 
It is true that there are 5 stages to dealing with death. But what most people don't realize, is they don't necessarily come in order, and you will revisit each step several times. Parts of you cry, parts of you will feel relief, parts of you will feel guilty, parts of you will be angry, parts will be very serious and factual and logical, and parts of you will only find the very macabre and humorous sides of death. And it really just depends on the day, and usually, you don't know what "day" today is. Not until something about the day makes you deal with the wound you now carry.
So today, I am taking a personal day. Not because I will be sad (or angry or laugh), but so I CAN be. I take this day for me.
Rest in Peace, Precious Angel
