Yesterday a post on facebook caught my eye, and stopped me in my tracks.
“Today is pregnancy and infant loss remembrance day. Prayers sent out to everyone who has had to experience a miscarriage, still birth, ectopic pregnancy, or loss of an infant. It makes pregnancy terrifying. Give your kiddos some extra hugs and kisses tonight. They are such a gift. ♥”
Before it happened to us (twice in a row 
), I knew people in each “category” above. But I never knew….
I never really got it.
The strange little things (and big ones) that remind you of the loss(es). The “what if” game. The times when you can’t help but cry because it just hits you. You don’t know why.
Yet, I’m one of the lucky ones. I have 3 living, healthy, thriving, amazing and lovely kids.
Others I’ve known, aren’t so lucky. Some have 1, or 2, or none at all.
Do you ever really know another persons pain until it’s happened to you?
Do you know how you would feel?
Would you have “gotten over it” by now?
Would you have been devastated?
The truth is we never really know. Until it happens to you, you can’t really empathize, but what you can do is try not to judge. Let them have their loss, let them talk about it, let them cry about it. Even if it’s been a year, 3 years, 5 years, a decade. Hold them in your hearts, and arms, if they let you.
Until you’ve been told that you lost a baby, or until you’ve had your child hospitalized, or worse, just don’t judge.
I wish I hadn’t judged. Now when I hear of someone who’s been through what we have, I want to call them and hug them and just tell them I’m so sorry. I want to tell them it gets better but never goes away. Peace comes (and sadly sometimes goes too) but it always comes back.
I know, I’ve been there.
My biggest worry is if I want another, will it kill me. Sounds dramatic, but it’s true. My risk of hemorrhaging is much larger then Joe or I want to face. Right now we aren’t, and I’m insanely jealous of people who don’t have to worry about this. I’d love 6 kids, but it’s not in the cards for me. So, I pray for those who haven’t been as lucky. I hope for them, and wish for them, and want for them too. Hell, I’d even be a surrogate if I could have. Especially after losing babies, I would love to gift that to someone. Sure we can just be happy with the gifts we’ve been given (and we are by the way) or we could adopt, but there’s nothing like someone saying no, to get my undies in a twist and make me want to say “don’t tell me no”. Ok, not really…. more like, I had 4 in my head for FOREVER, and now it’s looking like it’s 3.
I don’t know what my point is really, it’s just where my head is at right now.
This is the view just opposite. The windows look out to the neighbors, and there was plenty of room for our hand-me-down sectional. This is a very fun dance party we had 
