06/12/2021
I know that others wonder why we grieve so much when a baby dies.
We barely knew them.
In some cases, we never even see them.
So, why does it seem like I'm missing so much?
Because I am.
I'm not just grieving the baby.
I'm grieving the innocence I once had about being pregnant. I thought being pregnant equaled a living baby and now I know differently.
I'm grieving the relationships that crumbled under the weight of grief--the friends who never called and the family who won't say my baby's name. Even if they're still in my life, it's not the same.
I'm grieving all the milestones I'll never see. There will be no recitals or Little League games. No graduations or first jobs. I lost my chance to see who they would become and the family they would have built for themself.
I'm grieving my chance at a "complete" family. I could fill my arms and my house with children, but there will always be someone missing.
I'm grieving the dreams I once had. Dreams that were once so clear and certain are now hazy and unsure. There are new dreams, but dreams are supposed to be lofty and untethered. These dreams are always weighed down by the limitations of what will never be.
So, yes, I miss my baby and the person they could have been.
But, it's more than that.
Because I also miss the person I could have been with them.
