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  • Writer's pictureFava

The Silent Grief of The Unborn Child

The weight and grief of miscarriage when it arrives, it’s heavy. What makes it even worse when the relationship ends because the feeling of unsatisfaction of not conceiving also unravels. The self-doubt and criticism arrive “maybe I am just a broken woman.” The higher price of Unconditional Love is to accept that Ioss every day. The ideas creep in of, “what could have been,” or how my life would be”. Mother’s Day is hard because they come with a deadly silence. I am the carrier of the deepest wounds, of the unspoken lows, loss, fault, hopelessness, and grief. It comes with a bitter taste of confusion and doubting of grief. For some of us, it’s the unbornchild full of love that allows many of us to visualize the divinity of motherhood within us. To those who bore a child but there was only one breath long enough to meet their eyes, to be reminded of the seed of love. For those mothers that took a glance at the product of love, and yet watch the wings grow quickly, for they get to see from a higher place. To the silent grief, while it Is the reflection of what has been taken away, adding a flower to each miscarriage that comes with disillusion and tears of hopelessness. To set the altar with candles, pictures, and sometimes flowers of the illusion and unconditional love of the child that decides not to open their eyes yet completely open your heart. For the silent grief that you wear to get back to whatever normality is arriving. Here we stand in a society that wants to measure your womanhood by the comment/question; “when you getting pregnant, I can’t wait for you to be a mom, you are getting old, and time is up.” To each of us who visualize the possibility, of how to show up I answer or not leash my grief on you because it is my pain- not yours. Each time as a woman you dress with compassion to remind yourself “I am divine and perfect as I am.” Yet someday’ s the comment and the silent grief take you, yet each time you undress your soul or even the idea to try one more time. To you and to me, I see you with the eye of compassion but I see your divine stand even around the tears on each Holiday, birthday, and anniversary. To my unbornchild, you have been loved without condition and each tear that has been shed is worth the love that you unlock in me. You have been loved and never forgotten even though the grief is silent, this is how I love you I learn to love you on my terms.




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