Pain; Anger; God

Sometimes, I get so sick and tired of this world, I just want to escape it.

I’m tired of the fighting and the arguing and the bickering and the anger and the pain.  My heart and head feel heavy and drained.

I have baby presents sitting on a shelf in my kitchen.  Five of them.

Two will never be delivered to their recipients.

That’s a harsh ratio.

I don’t understand this world.  I don’t understand why it has to be women I know.  I don’t want it to be ANY woman.  I ache, and my arms aren’t even the empty ones.

I get angry.  Angry at my Facebook feed, where I have women-friends arguing for their right to abortion, alongside posts of women-friends who have wombs emptied by this evil world, against their wishes.

It doesn’t MATTER how far along a woman is.  It doesn’t hurt less.  It doesn’t magically get “all better”, because of how many ultrasounds she did or didn’t have.  Or who was able to feel the baby move.

Perhaps it is easier on those of us outside the circle.  We have spent less time wishing, preparing, hoping, loving – talking to the child within.

We didn’t put time into choosing a name.  Or time into choosing a method of burial.

It’s not suppose to be this way.  It’s just not.

I know, I KNOW, life is not fair.  But why can’t life be unfair for the adults who have made choices?  Why does it have to be so damn unfair for babies?  And children?

I know God hears the cry of the hurt.  I know He opens His arms to the children who come to Him far to early.

But that doesn’t make it less lonely here.

I personally hate the phrase “lost a baby”.  “Lost” – if something is LOST, I should be able to FIND it.  Lost makes me feel like I’ve just misplaced it.  The babies gone from my body weren’t my fault, but I reached a point where I couldn’t handle trying for the parents anymore.  I couldn’t “lose” any more of their babies, even if I gave them one beautiful girl to take home with them.

October is a beautiful month for so many reasons, but I spend the month in sadness for so many more.

Oliver, Sam, Nathaniel –

You are loved.  I know your Mothers (and some Fathers) and your Grandparents – they WANTED you.  They prayed for you.  They clung to you.  You helped make them Mothers (and Fathers and Grandmothers and Grandfathers).

You are not forgotten.  I promise.

~Mummy Butterfly  )i(


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