Sparks of Life

Wow. It’s been awhile, huh?

I guess my mind needed a rest. Or, maybe, I didn’t have anything to write or felt as though I had nothing to write.

Life here has been no more hectic or drama filled than in the past. Life is always throwing curve balls. I had another miscarriage. My third. Again …

Tomorrow is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. It’s a bittersweet cause that is striving for awareness: to help those to know that they aren’t alone. But, aren’t we?

j a n u a r y

There are support groups. There are family and friends. But, no matter how much support we find, it doesn’t dull the pain. We all know that we aren’t alone. One and four women experience a pregnancy or infant loss. Yet, this statistic does nothing to heal the scars. It brings more sorrow; knowing that the pain that we have suffered is plaguing others. There is comfort in empathy that we share amongst one another. It’s the understanding that bonds us. The support of others is appreciated. The love is warming. But it’s only temporary. We go on with our lives. We pretend to mask the sadness and try to forget the pain. But, then there are subtle reminders. They may not happen every day, but they are there.

The due date approaches. The thoughts of about what phase of pregnancy would I be in? The longing of movements that won’t be felt. What would have been your name?  There would be no ultrasounds. Oh look, a friend posted on Facebook that she is pregnant. Don’t be jealous and hurt. Try to find the happiness that this family is experiencing. There is no need to organize the office and find room for her. Just shut the office door.

In the time it becomes easier to walk by the baby aisles in the store and perhaps venture into the aisles with baby clothes. I am robust enough to do this. I’m just looking. Remain tough. But, there it is. That one item that stands out. That one item that reminds us of the loss. It tugs at our hearts. Then the what if’s begin to plague our mind. And then, just there, that spark of hope that will be ignited.

We are starting to become braver. The future doesn’t look that bleak. The distractions of life begin to take hold of our loss and pad its strength. It will never be forgotten; you will never be forgotten. The due date is engraved into our heart. The day of loss is etched into our heart. But, the façade becomes more intense. The ability to conceal the sorrow fortifies. Our memories of the spark of life burn the misery. Because you will always be loved.

Take me to the river



Add Yours
  1. Life Breath Present

    I’m so so sorry to hear you’ve had a miscarriage. I know I can’t imagine the pain and sorrow you feel in your heart, in your spirit. All I can offer is a lending of strength and virtual arm/shoulder to cry on. :'(

  2. Cindy Brown (@hiyacynthia)

    So sorry for your loss and that you’ve had to endure that more than once. I cannot even begin to understand your pain or relate to it at all. I am 45 years old, but I have never been pregnant and never intend to be. I’ve never had the desire to give birth. I adopted my two girls. I appreciated hearing your story. I’m sure your losses give you an appreciation for the process of creating a life that people like me can never understand.

    • motherfluffy

      Thank you for your kind words. It does give a new appreciation to when birthing a child is successful. And, I must say, what a wonderful and beautiful thing that is adoption.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.