Still Breathing by Katie Joy Duke

Still Breathing by Katie Joy Duke

Author:Katie Joy Duke [Duke, Katie Joy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9798885042161
Publisher: Katie Joy Duke
Published: 2022-04-23T20:54:41+00:00


Chapter 15:

Time Must Heal

“Some days, doing ‘the best we can’ may still fall short of what we would like to be able to do, but life isn’t perfect—on any front—and doing what we can with what we have is the most we should expect of ourselves or anyone else.”

—Mr. Fred Rogers

The time had come to return to work. I took an extra month off after my maternity leave ended, but I couldn’t avoid it any longer. My job as a Social Security disability attorney came with significant responsibility, and I was extremely nervous because my energy and emotions were unpredictable. My clients needed a sharp advocate, and I didn’t know if I could maintain the focus I needed to perform. My boss and I agreed to take it a few weeks at a time to see how I adjusted.

The day arrived to argue my first cases back in court. I arrived at the Social Security Administration office in downtown Seattle a couple hours before my first hearing. I wanted plenty of time to deal with any surprises. I didn’t know who knew about Poppy’s death, and I had a feeling it would be a hard day. It turned out that lots of people knew about my loss, but not everyone.

“Heeeey Mama!” Jack, a vocational expert, sang in my direction as I walked down a long hallway with my client to the hearing room. My heart sank. I suspected something like that would happen. There was no time to respond, so I gave him a respectful nod and kept walking; I was trying to keep things professional. After my hearing, I invited Jack to talk privately in one of the pre-hearing conference rooms.

“Hi Jack. It’s nice to see you.” I stood rather than sat. I didn’t want to get comfortable. Nothing about this was comfortable. “Did you hear what happened to my baby?” I asked, not wasting a moment.

“No, what?” he replied.

“She died.” No point in beating around the bush.

“You’re kidding.” He looked into my eyes and saw I wasn’t. The gravity sunk in. He started crying, and I didn’t try to stop him. He apologized for not knowing, and I forgave him. It wasn’t his fault no one told him.

Moments like that happened again, with the barista at the coffee shop and the owner of the deli. “Where’s the baby?” they asked excitedly when I showed up empty handed, but clearly not pregnant anymore. My truth was humiliating. I wanted to run away and never return, but I had to keep living my life; that meant I became the messenger of her death.

When people said things like “everything happens for a reason” or “God has a plan,” I would smile through gritted teeth, nod my head, and silently wonder what that “reason” and “plan” was. Often, it didn’t feel safe to explore my thoughts on the issue with that person. Their comment came across as a blanket solution to a problem I could never fix.

My experience of isolation was amplified when people said, “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through.



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