My baby died

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Artwork by Rebecca Strong, find more of her powerful work on Instagram @babylossart

In the first fragile weeks, I would repeat to myself: “My baby died.” It was literally my brain trying to pound in the reality and enormity of it all. When I would walk around the grocery store and look at strangers and think, “Did you know my baby died?”

They are no longer a recurring theme in my thoughts throughout the day, but when those same repetitive words arise in my mind’s eye: “My baby died. My baby died. My baby died.” I know it’s time to disengage from the world for a moment and saturate myself in the awareness that it did happen. The shock from trauma does not drop away in an instant—it is a slow, delicate unwrapping of reality.  One where I have to accept that my baby died.

2 thoughts on “My baby died

  1. Along with Eva’s death came many births… of faith, knowledge, strength, courage, LOVE, gratitude, mindfulness, connections, and the list goes on. She lives on in so many other ways. I have so much gratitude for what she has thought me 💗

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It feels like living in a different world, but we are the only ones who have changed, and that knowledge is so difficult to deal with alone.

    I call it the thing I want to tell, but not to say. I have a friend who said she would like to get a face tattoo, so that everyone would know. I sometimes wish for that, too.

    Liked by 1 person

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