Words

Do you remember when you were younger and your mom would say, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all?

I do. I have changed it up a bit though to fit my current circumstance. Many people have said things to me, meaning well, but really come across insensitive, uncaring and rude. I know their intentions are good and that they are trying. I am thankful and grateful for their kind spirit, even when the words are wrong and wound.

How would I change that saying made famous by mothers everywhere?

If you don't know what to say, how to comfort with words, don't say anything at all. 

I know people have meant well. I know they are trying to help heal with their words.

Sometimes their words wound more than they help.

I have had some pretty awful things said to me.

Here are some things I have heard on a regular basis.

• You can always have another baby.
• Be thankful you did not get to take them home with you.
• They probably would have been sick so they are better off in heaven.

Let me assure you, those words do not comfort. They hurt. They diminish my loss. They diminish the lives of my sweet girls.

I pray that we will be able to have more children. If we are blessed with more, those future lives will NEVER replace Emmerson and Vivienne. They were unique, loved individuals and nothing and no one will ever replace them.

I do not understand how and why people will say to someone who has just lost a baby or a pregnancy, You can always have more children. That is never uttered to a mother who has lost a five year old or a twenty-three year old child. Why? Why then is it spoken to a mother who has suffered a loss before there was a chance to live? Babies are people. They are wanted and loved.

It is human nature to want more. I would have loved to have had the chance to take them home. Create more memories. Had more time with them. More time to kiss, to hug, to love.

It has been said that my loss would have been greater if I would have brought them home. I don't know that. I know I would have had more memories of them. Some of my wonderings about them would have been answered. The question marks sometimes hurt more.

Loss is what it is. The words breathed intended for comfort doesn't make the love less. My loss is neither less or more than someone who lived more of life with their child. My love for them is not less or more based on the time spent.

It is quite simply, uniquely, and intricately, love.

Here are the things that wrap my heart up in a blanket with comfort.

• Call anytime, day or night. I am always available to listen.
• After I have cried and poured my grief out through words,  there are no words. I don't know what to say.
• I would love to hear about Emmerson and Vivienne. 

When someone has acknowledged my loss, they first acknowledged that I loved.

It is this Mother's love that makes the heart weep.

Stephanie