hotbonbon

I cried today off and on. I feel sorrow, despair, helplessness, fear, humility, I could go on but don't want to. We learned a few weeks back that friends, ones that I don't know very well but that my husband speaks of fondly and often. They had a miscarriage last year and that was sad - we know lots of people first hand that have miscarried in the last few years. Some of happy endings of eventually having a healthy baby and some not so happy. Well, these friends who miscarried last year tried again, despite great odds against them because of some rare genetic disorder that prevents a full term pregnancy or certain death if the child is born. They got pregnant and were happy for a short while. They received the news either late last year or early this year. Then late Jan they were informed at one of their closely monitored check ups that the child would not survive if born. My husband told me and I was sad for them but did not cry. We were told that the pregnancy would have to be terminated. Somehow it still didn't sink in. The father sent an email informing friends that this was so. I was very sad when I read this and pined for them. Today my husband sent me the email that the mother wrote. I fell apart. I am still in pieces. After I read it I woke my own son up from his nap, crying and all just to hold his warm, sleepy body next to mine and to know that he was ok. He was more than ok - he is full of hope for the future and he will get lots of bumps and bruises as he grows up, exploring his world. We have this luxury of knowing that he will have a million scraped knees and a few bumps on his noggin. He has a future. Her email was vivid, detailed and so brutally honest and philosophical that I was beyond humbled. I felt small and not present in the moment. I still feel this even hours later. She had a procedure to induce the birth. The girl, who was already named, was born without taking a breath. There are so many details that I don't think I can share but I will share a few as they touched me deeply and profoundly. She was only able to do one thing for her child. Change her clothes. Clothes that her own mother and her had made using a doll pattern. They took her out into the sunshine so she could feel sunshine despite her lifeless body not having any sensation. Most importantly she felt priveleged for even having the chance to give birth to her. They felt joy for a brief period, in spite of the pain that will last a lifetime. Her purpose, her sweet soul's purpose was to teach them unconditional love. I won't say any more because I can't. I'm too devastated. We are attending her service on Friday. I'm terrified to go. She was cremated last week or so....they have said goodbye and now their friends will say goodbye. I don't know what to say. Life doesn't equip you with the tools to help in times like this. I need to cry more. It's sorrow from a thousand things but this opened the floodgates with the force of a million angry and desparate horses. I'm sorry. Images in my mind are replaying and replaying from her words. I can't handle this. How will they? I know they will but it's so unfair. I feel like a child - it's not FAIR! I can reason like an adult but I don't want to. I want to scream WHY?? in the woods to the sky...I want to cry so hard I shake. I want to protect my own child from every bad thing in the world (which is impossible). This isn't my child this happened to - it's not our sorrow. I don't even know them very well. But I am mourning like it is.....like I do. Is this what sorrow feels like? I thought I have felt sorrow and despair before. I haven't. I did today.