It's never going to be ok

PLEASE NOTE: Trigger Warning: This post contains information that may be upsetting to readers.

I've written before about how I'm part of a wonderful group of women on Facebook (of all places). There are about 200 of us there, and we are all different; we have varying worldviews, geography, lifestyles. The thing that binds us, our common thread, is motherhood. One of the women phrased it as "the sisterhood of motherhood." We have bonded over our shared appreciation for tights, our distaste of unsolicited advice, our hilariously and pitifully bad postpartum sex lives. A couple of weeks ago, we had a disagreement. In a rare occurrence for a group that lives on the interweb, the disagreement was civil and thoughtful. It brought us closer. We refer back to it as The Big Discussion and talk about how it made us better friends and supporters of one another.

What I'm saying is that this is no ordinary online community. This is a community of women that, though I don't know them in person, I know them as people, and as friends.

We have had women announce pregnancies there. Women share funny stories. We ask for and give advice. We ask for and give love and support. Some of the women have shared stories of loss, of parents or nephews. It is feminism, the sisterhood, at its' best.

And this week, one of our babies died.

And our mom community is reeling with shock and sadness for this mama who lost her sweet baby.

What do you say to a mother who's 10.5 month old daughter dies suddenly? And how do you say it on Facebook? If words feel insufficient in person, they are even more stark in black and white on a screen.

And yet. At first, that's all we had to give. So we gave what we could, in our own words. Iterations of "I'm sorry" and "I'm shocked" and "Oh my God, no." We gave love because, as Cheryl Strayed says, "Compassion isn't about solving problems. It's about loving another person with all you've got." And we've got a lot of love in this group.

Then many of the moms rallied, and organized, and did what women are often so good at: they put our community into action to care for this mother, this e-sister of ours. Flowers were sent, care packages arranged, donations gathered.

And yet. This sweet baby is still gone, and her sweet mama will face the rest of her life without her.

When an elder person dies, it's sad of course, but on some level is understandable. There is a person who had a chance at a full life; a person who lived and loved and learned. But a little baby, barely starting life? How is this understandable?

It will never be okay. It will never be okay that this baby died.

This baby's name was Eva. She was sweet and loving and had joy in living. She also had CHARGE syndrome. Her story can be found here.

You can learn more about CHARGE syndrome and donate to research efforts here.