Dear sister and friend,
You know who you are. The woman in the back of the grocery store who is afraid to go down the isle because there’s a baby in the check-out line. You’ve walked that isle before. The one with the pregnancy tests and tampons, so simply side by side but so much a world apart. You’ve been invited to the baby showers the afternoon that test came back negative. You’ve taken your temperature and you’ve watched for a rise in degrees that didn’t exist. You feel like you’re on this winding staircase that just keeps going, but the lighthouse is far from reach. You’ve peed on more sticks than you can count, but have never had one with those two little lines.
|Marcy Nell Photography|
You know what it’s like to sit back as your friends and family announce pregnancy after pregnancy while you wait for your miracle to happen. And you grieve with them for any child lost. You cannot imagine their pain, just as you can only imagine the hope that they once felt at that positive pregnancy test. And there are days like yesterday, where there is grieving for the dream lost and you feel and recognize that pain, even though you’re a tad jealous of it. You have no candle to light or no balloon
to release, because there’s nothing to miss in nothingness.
Not because you wish that on anyone. No. Never. You would never hope for someone to miscarry or hold their precious child for too short a time. No. But your heart aches none the less for the mere reason that there is less. Because you know that even with the unfathomable pain they feel, you know that there was once joy there too. You know that they felt the thrill of telling some one they love about this new chapter. You know that they held this secret to themselves, the most primal and most sacred secret of life.
And you might feel a little guilty about it. Guilty that your upset for not losing something. For not going through that unimaginable heartache. And guilt in the reminder that your body has failed you in every possible way when it comes to motherhood.
But you have a heartache all your own. You wonder how you can feel like you’ve lost so much, when there is nothing tangible there to mark your loss. And maybe that’s it-that the gaping hole is so big, but there’s no evidence of it. There’s not test to hold and say But once there was…There’s no hope in knowing that though you never held that precious life in your arms, you will hold them in your heart until you meet them one day in heaven. Because there’s no one to meet. No part of you waiting patiently for you to join them.
There is an emptiness.
They say it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. And you know this to be true. Because you’ve lost so much, and never had that little one to love. Not even for a moment.
Sweet sister, I know your pain. And I want you to know you’re not alone. That you are among friends here. That it’s okay to feel the way you do. It’s okay to grieve. Even though some may tell you that you have nothing to grieve for. You do.
I’m sending you hugs and love, my friend. And most of all, I’m sending you hope.