Friday, July 1, 2016

missing someone.


I know that people mean well—but one thing you can’t say to a mommy who’s lost a child, a newborn or given birth to a baby who went home early— is to be glad for the ones she has. 

While that may be true….to me that is the equivalent of asking which one of my kids I could bear to be without. 

7 comments:

STL inker said...

praying for you sister.
sending loving thoughts as you heal the loss.

Nikki said...

Can't even imagine the HUGE hole that will never be filled. Praying for you and seriously thinking of you everyday.

Elicia Gregg said...

I have not sent you the many posts I have wanted to because...well, what can you really say to a mama whose heart is hurting so deeply? My heart hurts, no - it aches, for you and your family. If I knew you (in person) I would just want to hug you for as long as you needed to be hugged. No words necessary.

Tesha Papik said...

Yes this is so true...Sunday will always be missing and so missed. Thank God for the hope of Heaven where all this pain will be healed and made right. Love you and praying for you so much!

Tracie said...

Amen to that. I look like I have a big family but really we are missing many. I was grateful for my kids though, when I had miscarriages. It would have been easy for me to stay in bed/stay in the house and isolate myself if I had not had them to care for and love on. Your dear baby can never be replaced but I hope your friend truly meant that your beautifu children are there to hug when your arms feel too empty. Love to you and your family, TenforTexas

Ande Malinowski said...

Although people mean well when they say that statement it is one of the ones that hurts the most. I have not been pregnant or lost my own baby, but my little sister was stillborn when I was 5 and it's one of the first things I remember. Sometimes people tell me, "well you never knew her. why are you so upset?" or "at least you have your other sister." But it's not the same. And it never will be. I did know her. I knew I wanted her. I knew I cared for her and I was SO excited to meet her-I was 5! And I knew I loved her. Grief can come from many things. But grief that comes from the loss of a baby, from the hope that a little life brings is one of the worst forms. And to the comments that begin with "at least you still have..." I respond with this: you're right. At least I do have _____, but I'd rather us all be here for together. And I did know her, I loved her and I cherish her every day. But the little voice inside of me wants to say, "at least I still have my other sister. But which one of your sisters would you want to loose if you had to pick one?" People don't often understand how their words hurt until they're on the receiving end of infant loss-even if they mean well. Praying so hard for you and your family to feel the peace that passes all understanding.

Lori said...

So very true. I lost my son 27, five years ago. There are still those who say that I still have three. Just as you said, could they pick one to loose. My most deepest and heartfelt sympathy to you. Love and tenderness, Lori Kolecki