I see you.
I know the shock that overcame you when you found out your child was gone.
I feel the pain that you felt when you delivered your beautiful baby, and all your hopes and dreams for that precious life were gone.
I am heartbroken at what comes next, and the decisions you have to make that no mother should have to make.
I hear you crying in the night when you think no one is listening.
I understand the worry that you didn’t do it right or do enough.
I feel that lump in your throat when people ask you how many children you have, and you have to decide how you will answer this time.
I know the ache in your heart when you see a little girl or boy the age of the one you lost, smiling and laughing and living.
I feel angry when you have to deal with well-intentioned words that just aren’t enough.
I understand that fear that people will forget your child.
I hear the excitement in your voice when someone asks about them; when they say their name.
I know how your heart soars when you see a rainbow after a storm or a lone butterfly on a Spring day, and you just know that is your little one stopping by to say hello.
I see you. I am you. And you are not alone.