And I've lost it.
I will never try to pretend what I went through hurts as much as it would for someone who has actually held their child, whether it's a stillborn or older child. But it does hurt. It aches and leaves a pain in my soul that I've never felt before.
I think all of the little spirits that never made it deserve to be remembered.
This month I've thought a lot about the women I know who've lost babies, children....and those little spirits, gone before they came. So, I thought sharing a few thoughts from grieving parents and loved ones would be appropriate for this month- Infant & Child Loss Awareness Month. It's about remembering these precious ones we've lost..from precious people who have lost them.
“When your eyes freeze behind the grey window and the ghost of loss gets in to you, may a flock of colours, indigo, red, green and azure blue come to awaken in you a meadow of delight.”
"Little by little, we will begin to remember not just that he died, but that he lived".
"In my troubles, I have seen Him move".
“You will lose someone you can’t live without, and your heart will be badly broken, and the bad news is that you never completely get over the loss of your beloved. But this is also the good news. They live forever in your broken heart that doesn’t seal back up. And you come through. It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp.”
"Every parent who loses a child finds a way to laugh again. The timbre begins to fade. The edge dulls. The hurt lessens. Every love is carved from loss. "
Wouldn't it be great if we could take all of the heartache every mother and father have ever felt, stick it in a box, set it on fire and never have to feel that pain again? Never have to talk about it. Never have to experience it. Never have to remember it. But that's not real life. That world does not exist. That possibility is not possible.
But you know what we can do? What I can do? I can put my arms around my friends who do feel it. And I can cry with them. And then I can come home and watch my daughter sleeping quietly in her bed. I can stand near my son's door to hear the sound of his breathing. And then I can kneel at my bed. And I can thank Someone for those two little spirits I get to hold each night. And I'll thank Him that they did make it.
And then at last, I'll say a prayer for the little ones that didn't.
I know that someday, they'll all be held, too.