Lost

When our children die, why do we say we lost them? The girl at the gym asked me today if Monkey was my first child. As usual, I hesitated before answering. I am so careful of how I answer that question. I told her that actually he is a twin and we lost his brother at 3 months. Lost? Why do I keep saying that? Is it really better for others to hear I lost him instead of that he died or is it that it makes me feel better? I find myself saying Noah died. He is dead. Maybe, I am trying to really believe that this separation is permanent. That he is really a box of ashes that I buried in the cemetery (that is a whole other issue for another day). Does that reality that you held your baby while he took his last breaths ever sink in? I think denial is my defense mechanism these days. I feel so guilty, but sometimes I don't think of him as often. Not because it doesn't occur to me, but because I shove it down. I am so afraid that I am going to fall apart. I miss my baby. I want to hold him in these aching arms. I wish he was lost. Then I could find my sweet Noah.