A marriage in loss

Today is our anniversary. Four years ago today, we had our first official date. Two years ago today, we were married. It feels like we’ve put a lifetime into these 2 years. Our marriage has been tested more than most, and we’re still fighting for it every single day. We all recognize that marriage is hard work. But let me tell you, marriage after you’ve lost a child is really hard work.

There is a harsh statistic about marriage after loss. I don’t know the source, but I’ve read it in enough places that I have to put some stock into it. 80% of marriages do not survive the loss of a child. I’m sure that seems like a very high number (it did to us), but I can see how it would be true. Losing a child makes you question everything about yourself and everything you’ve ever held true. When you and your partner are both questioning everything at the same time, you can see how a marriage could be hurt in the process.

On the night Vivienne died, Gordon and I made a promise to each other that we were getting through this together. Marriages break up over far less than the loss of a child, and I can’t lie—we were both scared. We’d just lost our precious daughter, and the thought of losing each other was more than we could bear.  We both committed to each other that night that we were willing to fight for it.

I know we’re early in this journey, but I’m proud to say that Gordon and I still believe our marriage is worth fighting for. It’s not always perfect. Yes, we fight. No, we aren’t always in the same stage of our grief. But, we’re doing this together, and we support each other in every way we can.

I really can’t imagine having anyone but him by my side through this. It took us some time to figure out how to let the other grieve, and we’re still learning. But the key is that we try to understand where the other is and what he/she needs. It wasn’t easy—we each have our own way of approaching problems that doesn’t always work for the other. But, we’re learning. He has learned that this is something that can’t be fixed. And I know that was hard for him to accept. He holds me and lets me cry and doesn’t try to offer solutions because he knows there aren’t any. I let him get angry because I know that’s what he needs. And we talk about Vivienne all of the time. We are united in our desire to honor our daughter’s life and make her proud.

We’ve really learned how important communication is in a marriage. We knew it before, and I think it’s the key that’s held us together. I know how he feels because he tells me, and vice versa. No guessing, just lots of talking. We have had to work on our patience with each other. Sometimes, it’s hard to articulate how we’re feeling, and it comes out in other ways. We are learning to be patient as the other navigates through this pain, which hasn’t been easy for either of us.

I’ve heard stories of some loss Dads who don’t like to talk about the child they lost. They want to be strong, they want to move on, they want to push the pain away. Gordon has never done that. He still tries to be strong for me, which I can’t lie, sometimes I need. But, he still shares his pain, how much he misses Vivienne, and how hard it is to work though this. I know that I’m never alone in my grief or in missing Vivienne.

I would never wish the loss of a child on anyone. But for anyone that has to go through this, I hope they have a partner like my husband to help them through. I don’t know what I’d do if he wasn’t there to hold me up, wipe my tears, and hug me tight. He has made all of the difference in making the unimaginable survivable.