What I wrote just days after ...

I keep wanting to write ... I keep willing words to come out ... something that makes some sort of sense, something that in some way explains what I am feeling and experiencing, but nothing comes ... I can't muster the words. So instead, today I searched for other's words:



For it was not into my ear you whispered but into my heart.
It was not my lips you kissed but my soul.
~Judy Garland




No one sees the broken heart
That lies beneath my smile
No one sees the loneliness
Thats with me all the while
Silent tears gently fall
That others do not see
For my precious child
Who meant the world to me.
~Author Unknown





My blood, my breath – all you ever needed
My heart, filled with a mother’s love
the moment I knew
My arms, never to hold you close
My eyes, never to behold you face
My ears, never to hear you cry
My soul– the only connection to you
I have left.

By Christine Grabow,
Mom to Jordan Grabow,
Miscarried April 29, 2002






There is a sacredness in tears
They are not the mark of weakness, but of power
They speak more eloquently than 10,000 tongues.
They are the messengers of overwhelming grief
Of deep contrition and unspeakable love.
~Washington Irving



For those few weeks-- I had you to myself.
And that seems too short a time to be changed so profoundly.
In those few weeks-- I came to know you. . . and to love you.
You came to trust me with your life. Oh, what a life I had planned for you!
Just those few weeks—
When I lost you. I lost a lifetime of hopes, plans, dreams and aspirations. . .
A slice of my future simply vanished overnight.
Just those few weeks-- It wasn't enough to convince others how special and
important you were. How odd, a truly unique person has recently died and
no one is mourning the passing.
Just a mere few weeks—
And no "normal" person would cry all night over a tiny, unfinished baby,
or get depressed and withdraw day after endless day.
No one would, so why am I?
You were those few weeks my little one you darted in and out of my life too
quickly.
But it seems that's all the time you needed to make my life so much richer
and give me a small glimpse of eternity.
~By Susan Erling





Please
by Amy Cady (written 3/99)
for Hope (lost 1/10/99)


Please do not ask if I am better now -
Know that I am not.

Please do not simply ask, "How are you?"
I am grieving. My child is dead.

Please do not ask my husband, "How is your wife?"
Comfort HIM.

Please do not say, "Has it already been three months?"
It feels like three years to me.

Please do not make less of my baby's life by saying, "You'll have more."
She was the one I wanted.

Please do not tell me, "Time will heal."
Time is a four-letter word.

Please do not say, "God knows best."
I am angry with God.

Please do not say, "She is in Heaven."
I want her here.

Please do not tell me how great your life is -
I am living a nightmare.

Please do not tell me about someone else's healthy new baby -
It's like a knife through my flat, empty belly.

Please do not say, "You look as if you were never pregnant!"
I WANT to look pregnant. I want to BE pregnant.

Please do not keep silent and not mention her name -
She was real - do you not think so?

Please do not ask, "What do you need?"
I need my baby.

Please do not say, "If there is anything I can do..."
Please just do it. I can't ask.
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Please do not ask if I am better now -
You know that I am not.



http://www.babylosscomfort.com/grief-resources/#specialNeeds