You slipped away sometime between a dream and a nightmare.
I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar hollow, rolled over and
cradled the home we had made together.
And then it all felt different.
I couldn’t look people in the eye.
I couldn’t feel you inside.
Goodbye silently began before the first drop of loss.
And yet I still carried you with me and prayed you’d stay.
But not this way.
Not without a heartbeat. Not without a chance.
And if I did something wrong, I’m sorry.
I loved you from a place deeper within me than where you
began.
I imagined your sweet face, the soft of your feet, the
warmth of your tiny breaths.
And I lost mine when you faded back inside.
You are the piece of me that died.
The heartache I cannot hide.
Baby mine.
Comments
It's funny what having a child does to you, those first moments of finding out I was pregnant. I've always been pro-choice, and am still, but to know that moment and the emotions in brings, I could never voluntarily make that choice. But, that is my choice.
To not have that choice, in your situation, I just don't know how I could handle it. I've had friends have miscarriages, I've had a friend lose a baby after it was born. And it's something that once having a child, that emotion I never knew I had, was created.
Thank you for writing this.
There are no words for a loss like this. I have experienced this horrible moment 5 times. I truly do know how this feels. And you are correct...a part of you dies with this loss.
I understand, I understand, I understand. I ache for every woman who has felt this kind of loss.
Hannah and Finnegan are the result of never losing the desire and the longing for another child (yes, we got a bonus Campbell). Honor your grief. And when you are ready, if you still have the desire, please know that there is hope.
Love to you all.
Laurie Campbell
Thoughts and prayers as you grieve and sort out the next step in your life.. Love you, Aunt Elaine & Uncle Sam