Fuck June.
Fuck June. Fuck loss. Fuck innocence. Fuck memories of a life when I was blissfully expecting the loss I had no way of expecting. Fuck.
Fuck June. Fuck loss. Fuck innocence. Fuck memories of a life when I was blissfully expecting the loss I had no way of expecting. Fuck.
I was a mother from the moment I saw that second blue line. I have remained a mother, through my son’s death and his younger sister’s birth. And this May is my SIXTH mothers day.
Sometimes bad things happen. We don’t like to think about it, but they do. And focusing only on the happy endings isn’t helpful for anyone.
Sometimes pregnancy doesn’t end in a living baby. And sometimes there is simply no way to know that there is any danger until after your baby has already died.
Back after a long break with news and updates on Sea Glass Writing, baby loss greeting cards, brand new customizable graphics, and a couple of new pieces on the site and elsewhere.
Our grief-averse culture seems to rush us to the finish line; that place where things are just happy, and our loved ones are remembered only with smiles and upbeat feelings—But honestly, there is power in dwelling. Power I am happy to claim.
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