To Those of You Who Have Lost a Child

I have a beautiful friend, Corinna, who brings me joy just by being alive. She is a source and fountain of strength and courage and beauty. And she and I barely speak to each other, we never get coffee, we have never had a phone conversation.

But in moments like these:

20130920-131548.jpg I think of her.

Today has been a shitty day. I truly feel like I'm neglecting my two older daughters. My middle daughter, she's two, and all she does all day long is talk about how hungry she is. I know it's out of boredom, I know it's because she wants my attention, I know it's because she wants me to put the baby down and cater to her instead. But I can't usually, and I don't usually. That's neglect, right?

On top of feeling like I'm not there for the older girls, Lucia won't sleep, she is attached to me at all times, and whether she's nursing or screaming because she wants to be nursing or sleeping, I cannot catch a break.

The greatest part of my day is seeing my husband's car pull up in the driveway. Get me out of here I think to myself, as I hand him the baby and get a cool glass of water or run to the bathroom or stuff my face with some food.

I really think that, sometimes. Get me out of here.

And that's when I'm reminded of Corinna. This is exactly where she wants to be.

Corinna lost her beautiful baby Celeste after delivering her at 23 weeks gestation and three beautiful hours on this earth. The sadness in this is almost beyond comprehension.

I am reminded of Corinna, and I pray for her as I've never prayed for anyone before (except for my husband), and I shout to God and beg him to bring her peace and solace and wrap her in warmth because she is beauty and beauty must be protected. I ask Him to bring His daughter close to Him that she may not feel the pain that it is to lose a child. Oh, the pain.

And I am reminded.

I have my baby lying on top of me and I can't move to get an ounce of anything done. I can't do dishes or sweep and mop. I can't work on the blog or go to the bathroom or make myself lunch. But I have my baby lying on top of me and I can't move.

This is a damn good problem to have.

I can't move.

And all I am left to do is think of Corinna. I am left to think of you Mamas who have lost a child.

And all I'm left to do is pray.