Sometimes I just hope I won’t have to know some things like infant loss and also I never wanted to know but I read somewhere that it is allowed that sometimes its better not to buy ground dry pepper in the market because some market women put other things apart from pepper into it.
Unfortunately, fate does not think the same, I entered into the category of grieving women on the 15th of August 2014, a day that will forever be stamped into my heart. A day I lost my 7 months old who I had already given the name ‘Angel’ who with a heavy breath, sad smile, breathed her last soft breath in my arms.
The last thing I ever wanted in my life is to hold half of my heart and kiss her goodbye, never to hold those tiny arms again on this earth.
I never wished to know how it feels to ache physically, spiritually, mentally and emotionally with all I am and all I have for a girl who I only had the chance to love and care for, for only 212 days.
I wish I didn’t have to know how it feels to cry until my joints were aching and my tears stopped flowing. I cried into my pillow late at night so I won’t wake my older son who was sleeping.
And when people innocently ask “how many children do you have” I never want to know how it feels to want to clamp their mouth shut because their words hurt.
Sometimes I have to catch myself, clean my tears, pat my cheeks dry and carry on to avoid people asking “What’s wrong?” because how can they understand that I find it hard to move on? They believe I should have. I never wanted that.
I have to forget her. I never wanted to know how to forget. How to forget her cute tiny hands, her smell, forget her excited laughter when mommy was giving her a bath and her beautiful smile.
I never thought a day will come when I would resent the innocent comment like “All things work together for good to them that love God,” because I love my God and if those words were true, shouldn’t my daughter be alive today? I can’t bring myself to believe that the death of my child is for good.
I never wanted to know how it feels to have to carry on, chin up, back straight with an “I’m okay” smile that doesn’t mirror how I feel. Taking every step to be happy again, with the knowledge that my daughter would wish that I be happy, she would wish that I stop grieving, she would want me to keep living.
I wish I didn’t have to see people’s lack of understanding, their “At least she’s in heaven now” “Well, she was just a baby” “She was always so sick so she went to rest” Would all that really make my pain go away? I just wish they could understand that because she was little when she died doesn’t make me miss her less, neither does the fact that she was sickly made her less of my child. She was mine, and no amount of “just” or “at least” will change that.
I never dreamt, nor wish that I’d be able to understand or empathise with a woman who is grieving for her child. I never wished to be able to tell her “I’ve been there, I know how you feel. You are not alone”
I never wanted any of that
But here I am today, what I never wanted has come to me, and I know, I know too well how it feels. And I know I’m not alone. There are a lot of mothers out there facing what I’m facing, I also know that 1 in 4 women will experience pregnancy loss or infant death, will be shattered and broken and will go through hell because the child they lost is their other half, and she’s dead and gone.
I know this and I’m sure many others do too. Even though the pain dulls with time, Angel your memory remains in my heart.
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