this is not my story, but writing gives me the ability to say things i often can’t get out. today, i write for those who are grieving, for the parents whose hearts are heavy with the loss of a child they never got to know. while i can’t fully understand their pain, it’s important to take a moment to remember not only the lives lost but also the quiet suffering of those left behind. —
i was staying in the hospital with my son when i got a call. my wife told me that our friends got news that their unborn baby was diagnosed with a condition that would significantly impact his development and that he likely wouldn’t make it very long once he was born – if he made it at all.
i grabbed my chest and sat on the bed, feeling an unbearable pain that wasn’t mine. i could only imagine what the parents felt. i couldn’t hear anything, i couldn’t see straight, i felt my body weakened as i slumped down onto the hospital mattress.
it’s impossible to comprehend.
i know the excitement of having a baby. my wife showing me a positive test, deciding who to tell and when, bubbling over with a secret you know will be welcomed with joy and hugs, the ultrasounds and appointments – all of it.
i’ve felt the hope and anticipation that comes with creating a new life. but for some, that joy is cruelly interrupted. to experience the beginnings of that happiness, only to have it unravel, is a pain i can’t imagine or understand.