What to Expect When You Don’t Get What You Were Expecting

 We are now about fourteen months out from Maddie’s death.  I want to say that I sit here with some clarity and growth.  Maybe even with some encouragement. I do not.

What I do have is a first-hand understanding of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs and a few bits of advice that may save someone from making the mistake I’ve made. 

Maslow’s hierarchy of needs is the psychological theory that I have adopted to makes sense of life this past year. It is not a perfect theory, but it works for my analytical brain and it affirms all of my self-serving biases.



Courtesy of Wikipedia



In its most basic form, Maslow’s theory states that we derive all motivation in life from the bottom 4 levels of the pyramid.  Those that are lucky enough to achieve self-actualization (level 5) are overall healthier and more fulfilled. Those that suffer a significant lack of needs fulfillment from the bottom levels experience anxiety and tension.  Getting “stuck” at one of the bottom three levels causes emotional and social retardation.  Post-tsunami = level 1, Gandhi = level 5

When Madelyn died, I got stuck at the bottom level.  Most days, this is still where I focus 90% of my energy. This is in contrast to life before Maddie’s death – a period of 15 years or so in which I moved freely between all 5 levels of motivation.

When you lose your child or your child is critically ill, you will lose everything.  You will lose your morality, your creativity, your ability to problem solve, your self-esteem, your confidence, your respect, your faith, and your basic ability to function. You will lose your friends and your family and your ability to get out of bed in order to pee, poop and eat.  And even though you spend all day in bed, you will not sleep nor will you care about sex.

Your friends and family will visit you at the bottom level from time to time.  But no one, not even your spouse, will live here with you. You are alone.

I am sorry that you will experience anything this horrendous. However, I do want to offer some practical tips that may ease your journey.

1.       Fake it. You are stuck on Maslow’s bottom level. I get it. But no one else does.  They expect you to move freely between the bottom four levels and will treat you like a leper when you don’t. I’m proud of you for taking a shower today and dragging your ass to the grocery story – that took a lot of effort. Blurting out the whole story to the checker (I’m totally guilty of this) makes you bat shit crazy. Learn when you can live safely in the bottom level and when you can’t.  Then fake it. And forgive everyone else for not letting you be a bottom dweller.

2.       Find God.  I do not mean find a faith in God.  I mean, whatever your understanding of a higher power, choose an object that signifies God to you. I suggest a teddy bear.  When you need God, take him with you everywhere.  Cuddle him and hug him and talk to him and sleep with him.  When you are mad and God has abandoned you and your family, look that teddy bear right in the eyes and tell it to fuck off.  Then bury it in the closet and completely ignore it until you feel ready to sort things out.  Make no mistake; your child’s story will put you at war with God – maybe for the rest of your life.

3.       Get a Shrink.  If you are incredibly lucky, you have family and friends who will attempt to understand your journey.  They cannot and expecting them to is unfair. No matter how much they love us, they can only hear “I miss my baby” and “My husband doesn’t understand” so many times.  Get a shrink.  A shrink will understand.  A shrink won’t leave you.  A shrink will listen to the same story 500 times and have new insight each time. A shrink will tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear, and make you feel good about yourself while doing it.  A shrink will tell you when it’s time to medicate. 

4.       Learn to say “This is What I Need”.  Most of the time, what you need is someone to clean your house, make you food and rock you like a baby.  Pride will prevent you from asking for this as much as you need it. Ask anyway.

5.       Make new friends.  Specifically, make Baby Loss Mom (BLM) friends.  Or moms with sick kids friends.  Moms that are walking in your shoes and who get it. Cherish these friendships and love these women with all that you have.  When your real friends and family go back to “real life” and you and your spouse inhabit different orbits, these ladies will often be your entire world. Email me.  I’ll be your first BLM friend.

6.       Honor your process.  You are shattered and broken.  Just when you feel like you’ve made some forward progress, something will knock you over.  Alternatively, when you feel like things cannot get worse, they will.  Be where you are today.  Draw inspiration from your BLMs and do what you need to do in order to get through the day.

7. Honor their process.  We live in America.  Most of our entire social circle will never know anything other than 1^st world problems.  If you want to be in a community of people that know how to suffer, you need to move to a 3^rd world country.  The relative insignificance of your friends' problems does not make your journey any more or less valid.

I have BLMs who are 20 or more years into their process.  Their pain is just as tangible, but they give me hope.  I will not stay stuck at level 1 and neither will you.  And one day, I will write a post full of clarity and growth and encouragement.