October 15th is recognized as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day around the world. It is a day of remembrance for pregnancy loss and infant death which includes, but is not limited to, miscarriage, still birth, SIDS, or the death of a newborn.
For more Wichita Mom articles detailing our own experiences with pregnancy & infant loss, click here.
For information on how to participate in or attend the Bridget’s Cradles Event ‘Wave of Lights’ on October 15 to honor our babies gone too soon, click here.
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.
– Maya Angelou
Dear Sweet Mama,
I’m so sorry for your loss. I know how much you wanted your baby; how you’d already made room for him in your heart. I know the joy you felt when you held that positive pregnancy test up to the light and how you labored over the way you were going to tell your family the good news. I can see you during those first few weeks of pregnancy, the way you walked around town with your hand subconsciously reaching down to caress your still flat stomach. I can see the smile that crept onto your face because you knew a secret that the world did not yet know; that beneath your hand a tiny heart was beating as your sweet babe came to life. And I know all about just how much a woman can google, and dream, and plan for a brand new life that she plans on loving for the rest of hers.
But that means I also know how your joy can disappear in an instant.
I know the shock you felt as your body began to reject what your heart had accepted as its own. I know the sorrow that can descend upon a room when a sonogram technician tells you that your baby’s heart no longer beats beneath your own. I know what it feels like to learn that not only has your baby died, but so have your dreams of a long life together.
I’m so sorry for the pain you endured and the tears you cried in the days that followed your miscarriage. I’m sorry for how empty your body felt when it should have been full. I’m sorry for the careless things that people said to you; their words that only brought you more hurt instead of the hope you so desperately needed.
At least it wasn’t a real baby. (Then what was it?)
You can always have another. (But what if you can’t?)
There’s nothing to be sad about. You have other children. (I’m so thankful for my other children, but when has one life ever replaced another?)
It was for the best. (I’m not sure how someone ever thought those words would be a comfort.)
It’s not a tragedy. There are worse things happening to people all around you. (Perhaps it’s not a tragedy, but it is a disappointment that hurts deeply.)
Sweet Mama, I know how you feel because I’ve been there. I’ve walked the road of having to let go of both my baby and my dreams for our life together. And here’s what I want you to know…
You are not alone. You might feel all alone, but there are more of us walking this road than you might think. Please reach out. Let us walk with you.
You didn’t do anything wrong. You did not cause your body to miscarry, and I pray that one day soon you will be able to view your strong, brave, and miraculous body in a positive light once more.
It’s okay to grieve. You lost someone your heart loved, and it’s okay to be sad.
It will get better. Maybe not today, tomorrow, or even next month, but I promise you that you will smile again.
Sweet Mama, I see you and I acknowledge your significant loss. And on this day, I vow to remember and honor the baby that you loved.
A Sister who Knows