Since Jude died I’ve found my empathy levels off the scale in both directions.
When my husband and I visited the Lake District before Carter was born I cried when I thought about lambs being killed for meat. I was never that person. Before Jude I never was too fussed about animal welfare. But that lamb is a baby.
At the other end of the spectrum I can be fairly heartless – hearing some people’s ‘woes’ irritates me on some days. These ‘problems’ either seem minor or are problems I would love to have.
Someone recently was telling me how their young baby was noisey at night so they planned to move them out of their bedroom before the 6 month guidance. All I could think was, but that’s not the safest option and that I would give anything to have Jude sleeping next to me for 6 months. Being noisey means they can move and that they’re alive! I’m sure the mother is sleep deprived and her perspective is just different but it’s hard to empathise. I’ve become an expert at often nodding my head like one of those nodding dogs and saying “oh” in a concerned way.
I try to use this to keep myself in check. When I had changed my clothes for the third time in half an hour because of Carter’s sick one morning and I was feeling frustrated I thought to myself – don’t go feeling sorry for yourself. At least Carter can be sick (Jude could not). Be grateful.
My husband tells me to be more understanding to others. He says it’s not their fault that they have no idea what it’s like to go through what we have. And he’s right. Many people have been dealt far worse cards. For example I know of a mother who lost two babies to SMA. So I’m trying my hardest to be more empathetic. Small steps.
I promise to try harder Poop xxxx