Today is a day of remembrance for those who have experienced pregnancy and infant loss (p.a.i.l.).
I warn you, I'm cheating a little today by re-posting something from two years ago, but it applies as much today as it did then. You can read the full post
here.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
There is no grief that can compare to losing a baby.
One
day you're holding your rounded belly and laughing at each nudge and
kick. Then before you know it, your belly is ominously silent. What was
once full of hope and dreams is terrifyingly empty.
There's a hollow place there that's more than an empty womb.
It's an empty life.
It's empty arms... an empty cradle... and an empty heart.
It's
the first bath, first smile, first laugh, first crawl, first tooth,
first birthday, first step, first day of school, first report card,
first crush, first date, first dance, first kiss, first love, first
grandchild.... all those firsts that never come.
It's the hollow under the Christmas tree where presents should have been.
It's the birthdays you can't celebrate or even acknowledge because people forget.
It's the closet you clean out, the toys you box up, the furniture you pack away and the gifts you return.
It's the memories you don't have, because you never had the chance to make any.
It's the faith that seems irreparably shaken by a God who takes away what He's given.
It's the dreams that died and the hopes you mourn.
Ten
and a half years ago I sat in the front pew of my church as a little
white casket was carried to the front and the pastor said something I'm
sure was poignant and meaningful - I didn't hear a word he said. I shook
hands and accepted hugs and flowers and food from well-meaning people -
I didn't see a single face. I stood in a
cemetery next to a tiny grave on a February afternoon - I didn't feel the cold.
I stood there as my mom patted me on the back and said, "It's
ok. It's
ok" All the while, I wanted to scream,
"IT IS NOT OK!!!"
Because it isn't
ok. It is
never ok to bury a child.
Sure,
the grief gets lighter and the days stop blurring and one morning you
will wake up and you won't immediately be reminded of your loss.
Eventually you'll get through a whole day without weeping... then a
week... a month. I haven't yet made it a whole year, but maybe some
people get there eventually.
You
see, the grief never really goes away, but whether we like it or not,
life goes on. There's always a new day and another step to take. We keep
doing what we have to do, no matter how hard, until it becomes easy
again.
If you've recently lost a baby, I am so sorry. But I promise you, the day
will come when you can breathe again. The day
will come when you can dream and laugh and hope again.
Until
that day... cry my friend, my sister. Weep and mourn and rage at the
terrible unfairness of life in a fallen world. Sob alone into your
pillow or in a crowd of people. Beat your fists against the wall and cry
out your anger and pain to the God you wish had spared your baby.
He can take it.
He understands.
He lost a son too.
Mourn beloved. Because there
will be a morning.
I promise.
~~~~~~~~~
Women in our world are hurting - perhaps you're one of them - and we are called to the least of these.
My challenge to you:
Go to someone you know who has experienced a loss and tell them that you remember - and that God remembers too.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. (Matt 5:4)
