Day 1: Sunrise

sunriseAs the sun rose this morning, my little girl should be turning five months. But we lost her five weeks ago. I miss her more each day. I think the shock wears off and the terrible reality hits.

Right now I’m angry. And I’m hoping that putting it out in the universe will allow me to tuck it away. I don’t want anger to be the overwhelming emotion I feel. The anger stems from not understanding. Not understanding why she had to leave us. Not understanding why our fairytale ended so sadly. Not understanding why my friends get happy, healthy babies but mine was taken away. Wondering why she deserved that fate. Wondering why I even got pregnant just to have her stolen away. Not understanding why I have friends that also lost babies. And why there are so many moms posting pictures of the sunrise this morning.

Of course I want my friends to have healthy babies– after themselves I’m probably praying the hardest for that because I know the other side. But moments of jealousy do boil up. I also wouldn’t give up the four months I had with Zoey. I’m so thankful I got to carry her, hold her and love her. That’s not the point.

Even if we choose to have more children, I’ll always miss her. I’ll always wonder who she would be. I’ll always look at children her age and wonder why. Maybe someday it will all make sense. But today it doesn’t. I need to be angry about that if only for a minute. If I’m raging or questioning or upset, don’t try to explain it away, justify anything or tell me it’s ok. Just let me be angry. Just for today. Just for this hour, this minute. It will pass. Tomorrow the sun will rise again and I may be in a different place. But my needs remain the same. You can’t fix me. I don’t need to be fixed. I need a safe place to just be. I’m on a journey– a long, twisty, sometimes dark journey. But I know there will be moments of light– like this morning when the sun started to peek over the horizon and the pink sky highlighted the clouds. Like the photo my friend sent with the purple dot– her little girl saying hello. I’ll breathe in those moments and won’t let myself drown in the darkness– so let me just sit in it for a minute. Just listen. Just love.

4 thoughts on “Day 1: Sunrise

  1. I can barely comment through the tears. Thank you for sharing your beautiful, heartfelt, poignant unfolding story, Dawn. Holding you in the deepest admiration and respect and sending warm hugs and uplifted prayer.

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  2. I can’t pretend to match your anger, but I do share it, along with the sadness, wonder & love. Hang in there & hold tightly to your loved ones left here.

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  3. I too, Gail, am typing through my tears… Dawn is so eloquent with her words… even in anger she spreads love and joy. Zoey is shining on us every morning in the sunrise.

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