(no subject)

[rivka]

It's been a year. (If you're pregnant, please don't click through the link.)

I would have had a six-month-old now. Playing with toys. Maybe sitting up.

If that pregnancy had not ended, I would not have become pregnant with the Niblet who is, at this very moment, trying to batter his way out of my belly with his feet. He would not exist. I will always look at this baby and know that great grief made him possible.

I have no great meaning to extract from what happened to us a year ago. I can only say that you endure what you must because there's no other choice, and eventually it ends. Suffering is finite.

I haven't forgotten; I don't think I could. Who I am has been shaped by what happened a year ago. I can still contact the sadness. But I'm not there anymore.

I survived.

Comments

[mizchalmers.livejournal.com]

I read the babylost blogs (because I am, apparently, a ghoul. Or because I feel I need to bear witness. Or, most honestly, to look steadily at my worst fear and make myself believe I could survive it.) This is a really commonly expressed sentiment there. There are no replacement babies. But there are babies who would not have been, at all, were it not for their lost brothers and sisters. It's grief and joy and mystery beyond our understanding.

I, random stranger on the Internet, wept for you this day last year, and am humbled by your grace, and so very glad that you survived.