more than celery with effing peanut butter & raisons (it’s not cute, camp counselors) — knowing that I might be a crack in the heart for another woman out there.
That my positive pregnancy tests & little apple seed of a babe might feel like daggers of injustice to another woman. That I have made another woman sit in a hot shower, sobbing “Why not me too, God?” (By the way, our water bill was almost double than usual in December. I have no shame in the fact that I spent almost an hour a day in our bath tub for a month after losing Harpie.)
If you are one of those women, wrapping your arms around your belly to make yourself feel whole as you read my blog — my heart aches for you. I have no adequate words but to tell you that I am sorry. I have been there, clawing through bitterness that threatened to choke me until I screamed. I know what it feels like to be so empty you are numb; I never wish that upon anyone. I wish I had a cure, or a salve to make the hurt stop. I wish I could reach through the internet & hug you until you had hope, like my friends did for me. But my words are inadequate, & I know that. Man, do I know that.
So just know that I pray for you & think of you — whether I know your name, know your face, or simply know you as a screen name on a comment or an internet board. As I said in a previous post — we are never alone.
Blair
I have only read your postings about your miscarriage and am eager to go back now and read your more recent posts!
Thank you so much for your candid portrayal of your loss and suffering. I too, had a miscarriage several months ago and only wish I had found your posts sooner. I too, found ways to heal and deal with my loss as only someone in the club could understand. Red wine was my vodka tonic
Thanks again