To My Lost Child: I Remember You

I couldn’t even utter the words to my husband for the first little while.

I was only going to post a little blurb on Instagram, but my heart is aching, and that is when my hands tend to gravitate to the familiar smooth keys of my laptop. They understand me like no one else does.

If you had run into me, you would have seen a smile on my face and chit chatting to those around me. It’s funny how our bodies get used to hiding the hurt away. We kick on autopilot and go about our day. But when the hustle and bustle stops for just a moment, you break, and the pain comes rushing in like a tidal wave. It tosses you back and forth under an invisible water, and all you want to do is come up for air, but the grief is just too damn overpowering.

I couldn’t even utter the words to my husband for the first little while. When I finally could, they came blurting out as if it wouldn't hurt as much if I said it quickly. “Eden would have been two today. There I said it.” 

It’s different for him. June 10th is just another spring day. But for me, I mourn. My mind flashes back to the cramping, the blood, the doctor's appointments, the internal ultrasound and the only way I could say goodbye by whispering, “bye bye baby” as I flushed the toilet.

I think there is a misconception of miscarriage when you already have children that it doesn't matter. Like, I shouldn’t be sad, or it doesn’t hurt as much because I’m lucky enough even to have children and now blessed with Margaret. Do not misunderstand me; I am completely thankful for my other children and realize the pain that women bear that do not have a child yet, but the pain of Eden’s loss and her two siblings after her matter. I do not brush them aside like society believes I should. And if you are a mother that has suffered a miscarriage after already having children, you do not need to either. Your pain is real and validated.

Today, my dearest Eden I remember you. I grieve and mourn the life you should have had. And I wait until the day when we meet face to face in the presence of our Saviour. I love you for always and forever.

“And as the dawn breaks and the clouds clear, in an open space together we will run.”

Previously published at Adventurous Mama.




RELATED: Living Through Miscarriage

Professional lover of adventure, motherhood, body positivity and food. You will usually find Shannon trying to wrangle her four children with an iced coffee in hand while jamming to some 90's music in the background. You can connect with her here and here.