I am in disbelief.
Do we really have to do this, every year, for the rest of our lives? And then do it all over again, with each holiday that comes up, with each milestone she was robbed of, with each breath she didn't get to take? And again and again, every day, for all of eternity...?
Read MoreBeing 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 cursed body of mine, a walking grave,
a shallow coffin,
now scarred by an indescribable kind
of maternal violence
that i shudder to absorb
But love, as I learned over the years, was still very much a part of this season. It is alive in those of us that remain, love itself has so much more to give to those around us, to ourselves. Even amid tears, and that ache we all know well, love continues giving, unselfishly, and without reservation…
Read MoreBut when the ornaments with her name on them began to show up in the mail, we decided that we would get a tree after all. And we would hang them, and her stocking.
And I would capture this on video, for some reason.
Looking back, I think, perhaps, I needed some solid proof that this nightmare was actually happening.
I think about how much I love this kid already, the nibling I’ve hoped for for so long, another baby in the family, and I think about how I have - how we all have - six months now. Six months of waiting. Six months of hoping. Six months of this buzzing that is excitement and anxiety. ‘Stay alive, baby,’ I can hear my heart urging as I tuck the kids in, brush my teeth, lay my own head down. ‘Stay alive, baby. Stay alive, baby.’
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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