My Sarah

Oh how a word, a sound or an action can drag an emotion buried so deep inside, up to the surface so fast that it’s like a sledgehammer hitting you in the chest. It can stop you dead and it can make you cry. 

Many moons ago I lost a baby girl and being the person I am I simply picked myself up, dusted myself down and got on with life. Because  I had to and because I had no one else to share the burden with. I had no one to mend my broken heart so I put my heart in a box and left it with her. 

Only recently has she been spoken of and only recently has she been named (my beautiful Sarah) and only recently did I have to deal with the pandoras box that had been opened. All because of the birth of another child, not even related to me. 

She was my secret. She was my joy. She was beautiful. She was mine. She never got to breathe her first breath. I loved her. I loved her father. I miss her. 

The loss that is spilling out of my eyes is undefinable but I know it hurts. 

I’m not the first and sadly I’m not the last and grief is felt and is dealt with in many ways. I know nothing about dealing with it as I chose not to. How many parents I wonder never grieve for an unborn baby or acknowledge their death, because that is what it is. It’s not a miscarriage or a stillbirth or any other medical term people choose to use. It’s a death and with that comes grief. A pat on the shoulder, a hug or a “never mind there will be others” just doesn’t touch it. 

Grief needs talking about. Grief needs facing head on. But how? I have no answers. I have to work it out day by day. I have to acknowldge how I feel and forgive myself for feeling the way I do. It’s okay. It’s okay to miss my Sarah. 

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