A lot had happened in the months since Declan was due. Two of my closest friends have had babies and one more is soon too. The babies are precious and I feel a love for them as I did with all the other babies we've had born into the group. The lump in my throat that I have when I'm around these girls is nothing to do with them as such but as a result of the situation. Seeing their babies so close in age and hearing them talk about what they've ordered on Etsy to decorate the nurseries is literally heart wrenching to listen to. The back and forth stories about how easy their births were makes me want to scream a reminder that only months ago, after a fifteen hour night of labour my son was born with a still heart. And although I had been told to expect that, I never once in all those hours gave up hope that I'd hear him cry at the end of it all. But he didn't cry. And talking about labour brings all those memories to the surface. It's really all too raw to be faking it like this but it's also too wrong to ask them to refrain from topics in which their whole life is absorbed in at the moment. The same emotions could possibly be felt by the one who lost her mom years ago when we speak of our mothers. Same could be said for the one who lost her brother when we talk about our siblings among the group. These woman are my lifelong friends and I love them dearly. They supported me when I was at my weakest and I need to let them bask in the glory they deserve now.
I think having this day as an international awareness has allowed me to be ok with still not being ok. Instead of cleaning my house or running the errands I originally had planned today, I gave in to the draw of a visit to the cemetery and spent it laying in the leaves by the grave stone thinking about what would have been. I will do what you're supposed to do to take part in sharing in our losses. I will watch for the CN Tower and Niagara Falls to light up in Pink and Blue in honour of all angel babies. I'll take part in the Global Wave of Light by lighting a candle at 7pm this evening alongside fellow grieving parents of the world. But I can't imagine having spent this Autumn afternoon doing anything more therapeutic than being there alone with my four little Stars.