My heart was stomped on again this weekend. You see, in this world of baby loss, there are a good number of us who grieve online. We blog and support one another in this journey that never ends. Each generation of baby loss moms, as I see it, creates a special cohort and bond that connects us. Each cohort contains a group of women who lost babies within about a year of one another and sometimes within days or even hours from the last. It's somehow nice to know that you weren't alone in your misery and that somewhere across this great stretch of land on Earth, someone else understood you. That the gates of the heavens opened and our babies entered in alongside other babies to support one another as we supported each other here in life. Or the shambles we were left with.
In this season, my cohort is moving on to have their first babies post loss. So many of us have just given birth or are on track to do so within the next days, weeks and months. We fought through the battle to conceive again with our hearts at our feet and fear as thick as mud in our throats. But we overcame. We're definitely worse for wear, but we pressed on. Unfortunately though, loss doesn't always strike just once. It's a cruel and unfortunate and absolutely unfair reality that lighting can indeed strike twice. One of our friends has endured just that. She's gone on to bury a sister to her son who was awaiting her arrival. He trailblazed the way for her while her parents sit in despair again. It's absolutely unfathomable that this can occur twice to the same couple and I mourn deeply for them. I've had nightmares every night since and felt such anguish in knowing "the drill" they've had to experience not once, but twice-- to two viable babies that they wanted so desperately to share their lives with.
This world can be a cruel, cruel place. And I'm just so heartbroken for their family.
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