On March 22nd, 2008 my water broke prematurely during my first pregnancy. We were told that at 22 weeks the odds were most definitely not in our favor, but everything possible would be done. We spent the next five days in the Maternal Fetal Care unit squeezing out every last drop of hope.
“If we can just hold on for one more week, the road will be long and hard, but she’ll have a chance…”
Kennedy Hope was born on March 27th, 1 pound, 3 ounces, 11 inches.
Sometime during those twilight hours of painless labor, she left us. Her body, in its tiny perfection lay quiet and still in our arms before we had to let her go.
Upon my release from the hospital, I scoured the internet and bookstores for any piece of women’s literature that might draw me into its pages as an invitation to bear witness to the author’s pain and extinguish my agonizing loneliness.
The few books that served this purpose contained simple and raw journal entries of women living through their own grief after the loss of a baby. I gripped my leather journal, and into its pages poured tears, anger, unanswerable questions and desperate prayers as if it was a diagnosed daily pill. I always felt that I would share selections of these entries in some form, hoping to take what I had gained from the honesty and bravery of those women before me and pay it forward.
It has been four and a half years since Kennedy swept in and left an indelible footprint on our lives, re-routing and forging the path on which we currently find ourselves…for better and for worse.
It is my wish that my story of Grief, Healing and Faith will help to make other women feel less alone as they wade through the hazy muck of their own palpable grieving.
I welcome you to join me as I take a trip backwards to offer my hand to those who may find comfort in it.
To all women suffocating in sadness, please know you have an unseen friend in a Sisterhood we all wish did not exist.
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