You shared your miscarriage with me. That sacred, grief-filled story. The rawness, the heartache, the darkness. And it helped me.
I hadn't miscarried, but I kept your story in my library. And when I did miscarry and then miscarry again but in a completely different way, I was not unprepared. Your stories guided me. They gave me wisdom and perspective. They told me what to expect and why, though my miscarriages, like all, were nuanced.
Hundreds of you have told me your stories. Dug them out of your hearts and opened them up for me to look at, to ask questions about and to share collective knowledge from.
I don't know any one else who has had the advantage you gave me during my miscarriages. The experiences were deep and difficult but I knew I had God's everlasting arms underneath me and your stories around me. My sisters had already come through the darkness. This pain is not the end.
For a long time, miscarriages have been hidden. Moms have been wrongly told to keep them silent, pretend they never happened, move on. That has to end. What an injustice. Each baby should be remembered. Our friends should not be shy to mention them by name and remember them. They are never far from our minds and yet society has taught that to avoid dredging up old grief, friends should never mention these little people.
Thank you for breaking this. Thank you for being unfiltered. Thank you for gifting me with your experiences. "Moms of heaven babies" is a club I never wanted to be part of, but with your stories, my entrance into it was so much more graceful. Thank you, sisters, for loving me in this way.
Please continue to tell your stories. We need to hear them.
If you have never told your story, please tell me it. It deserves to be known. Your baby deserves to be remembered. Your grief should be recognized. Your walk was your own, but you have sisters who have been down similar paths and through our stories, we hold each other close.
Abigail
PS. Baby Bo is doing great. We're halfway through and found out today that she's a girl!
