The words and tears dry up. It really is like a wound, healing. For days, months, years, I walked around with an open, oozing sore, yelling my pain, unable to be comfortable, making a mess. And then – slowly – the skin grew back.
Read Moresometimes I pull out
my old map of the world
it’s foreign now, but recognizable
the familiar landscapes are still there
I just can’t visit them anymore
Being a mother is just that, your state of being. It doesn't matter if you carry your child in your arms or your heart. You have a mother's heart, a beautiful one, and you should be able to express all the joys and pains of being a mother on Mother's Day. Being a bereaved mother is not something to be ashamed of.
Read MoreThis was the least trivial of things, and yet, the outrage just didn’t boil up inside me the way I would have expected…
…at first.
But then, slowly, as my bruised and bleeding heart started to heal, it started to peek its head out every now and again. And then when I got pregnant once more – when again I had something to lose – it came roaring back with a vengeance.
Read MoreWhat I wouldn’t give to return to the before - a time when I took for granted that you would be okay, when my biggest problem was my inability to roll over and my constant heartburn. The person in that recording had no idea what I know. That life can turn in a moment. That we have so little control over some of the most important things. That a loss so great can make you feel as if you have a physical gash in your heart that will never heal no matter how much time passes.
Read MoreInevitably, each spring as the rains bring greenery to the brownish hills, I feel it in my body before I know it in my mind. I will soon return to the closest point of my orbit. I feel her warmth on my skin more intensely than before. The orange poppies that bloomed in the sidewalk cracks and medians when she was born are pushing into view.
Read MoreBereaved parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion, and the other side of getting through this mess called grief.
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Parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion we learn for others, having been through this mess — and see it reflected back at you, acknowledged and understood.
Thanks to photographer Xin Li and to artist Stephanie Sicore for their respective illustrations and photos.
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: not ttc | infertility after loss
: parenting after loss
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: how to help a friend through babyloss
: how to plan a baby's funeral
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