Going to the funeral of a child... trying to find words for a conversation that shouldn't happen... writing a card that you picked up from the "Death of a Child" section of the store... It never gets easier. No amount of training or experience changes that. The situation sucks, is awful, and is about as unfair as it gets. There's nothing "right" about it- not what happened and not what you can say to the parents who simply, unequivocally want their baby back.
I've gone to funerals for families I don't know; I've talked to parents online and on the phone that I've never met; I've held the hands of parents as they cried and asked "Why?". Why them? Why their baby? Why any baby?
Time has given me the tissue of being able to keep it together when I'm with them because if I fall apart then that will just add to an already heartbreaking situation. But when I'm back in my car? Alone in my house? Hiding out in the bathroom from the kids? The faucet of tears turns on and I can't stop. Because I don't know why... I don't have answers... and even if I did, they sure as hell wouldn't be good enough.
Tonight, another funeral for a baby taken too soon. A family I know in passing but that I don't really "know", a card I'll write that offers the only things I can give: understanding, compassion, prayer. It wont be enough, but there's not going to be enough. Two children have lost a sister, two parents have lost their youngest baby.
There's never going to be enough to fix that.