Yesterday, I spent the afternoon with a bunch of moms just like me. Moms that talk about their babies in terms of weeks that we had them growing inside of us because that is all we had with them.
37 weeks...42 weeks...39 weeks...
It does not get any easier to hear the tales of loss. In fact, it gets harder. How can it be that this many people have had babies born still? And how can it be that we are just a fraction of the parents out there?
Many of us are in the "5 Year Club". Our children should be begging us for new backpacks and pencils and other back-to-school items and yet they are not here. It just so unfair.
There is a silver lining, though. We are not alone. While many of us have terrific spouses and support systems, there is something almost poetic about talking to other mothers who know the agony of a delivery room that echoes silence. Who don't hate the stretch marks on our bodies because they are a sign that our child was in fact once here.
We are alive. The rainbow babies that came after them are alive (and loud!). As long as we are around, so too will our friendships be. It's too important to not have these women in my life.
It's also important for Miranda. She needs to know these kids are just like her in some ways. They have siblings that they cannot play with but still very much love. They have parents that get sad from time to time but can't really express why.
I am so grateful for what I have. I am so grateful for what I am. To the other moms out there (and dads!) thank you for helping us break the silence, stand together, and live our lives. #time2momup