22. Sometimes it’s easier to grieve for someone else’s baby than for my own.

Been thinking about this lately. So much baby loss these days. I hate it. My good friend just lost twin girls at 22 weeks gestation. Another good friend’s coworker just lost his baby daughter shortly after birth. Too many babies gone. I cry and cry over each one, mull over the words in the email or the Facebook post that I’m reading. Turn phrases over in my mind, like “With great sorrow we announce…”

With great sorrow.

Right now — it’s 5 a.m., so I may be thinking about this sideways — I believe I cry over these lost babies not just for the sadness of their own stories, and not just because I grieve for what their parents are now going through, but also in order to experience the loss of my own child freshly once again. I never, ever want to go through something like this loss again. Yet, in some strange way, I do want to re-experience the particular loss of August; some part of me wants it to be present again. Some part of me wishes I could send out an email to all my friends: “With great sorrow, I remind you that August died over three years ago, and I still miss the heck out of that baby boy. Please bear witness with me again on this random day. No, today is not any type of anniversary. I just needed to send out the call. Wailing and deep lament gratefully accepted.”

But of course people don’t do things like that. That would be really weird! It would be “milking it,” to say the least. But it’s not like August’s death is just behind me now. It is on the calendar, but not so much in my heart.


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