On August 28th we became a part of a community that we did not want to join. Few even want to acknowledge that it exists. Its reality in this world is too heartbreaking to fully comprehend. We became “those people”. The ones you look at and think “thank God that didn’t happen to me” and “I couldn’t do it”.
We’re still fairly new here so I’m still working out how I fit. I’m not sure if I’ll be an active participant in the support groups and walks or if I find another way. Many have started their own non-profits or projects. They found a void and filled it. I admire them, but I’m not there right now (unless you count the club Andrea and I started known to us as “Stupid Sisters”). There are support groups but I haven’t been yet. They make me nervous– they are filled with people in similar situations yet the same people could be miles from where we are. We attended one walk but the pain may have just been to raw to fully appreciate the event.
Loss has always happened but the world hasn’t always been willing to talk about it. When my mom lost a baby, she felt there was nowhere to go, nowhere to recognize the loss. We now have places. The community has banded together to bring awareness, comfort and support. Now it’s my choice on how and where I want to participate. I will always be a member of this community. And I wish it wasn’t so big. I wish nobody else joined.
Nicol and I are still fundraising for Children’s Miracle Network. Maybe some of the funds raised will help another family avoid joining this community. For now, that’s how I feel I can help both myself and other babies.
Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. There’s a wave of light campaign: light a candle at 7pm for one hour wherever you are to create a continuous wave of light to honor and remember the little ones and their families.
Tonight, I will light a candle for Zoey and all the other borrowed angels.