Little hands

Little hands

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Infant Loss

 Aside from what the title says, this post will be about miscarriage. Not mine, but the feelings I have toward another's suffering.

 A cousin of mine has suffered a first-trimester miscarriage. Mostly over the past few days but confirmed today. Not only has she had to deal with that but also because it got to the point that her blood pressure dropped and she almost needed blood to be given to her. Luckily that wasn't needed and she with her mother so she can be taken care of for the next few days while her body recuperates.

 Her mind, however, is a different story. I don't know for sure what she is thinking right now. Is she in shock? Has she grasped the reality of it yet? I don't know. What I do know is that if she falls asleep she'll probably wake up remembering she lost her baby and her world will crumble all over again. And this will happen many more times in the next few weeks, months, etc.

 She has lost her child. The hope she had for that little life that was growing inside her is now gone. She might feel betrayed by her own body. How I wish I were there to try to comfort her. If anything, to just sit there and offer my silent understanding.

 I wonder if the hospital even acknowledged she lost a baby. Some doctors and nurses can be so stoic, so cold. Especially towards miscarriage mothers because there's nothing to show for all the cramping and bleeding. There's nothing to bury, no baby clothes were worn. But she remembers the sonogram, the positive test. She can't and probably won't easily forget them. This child was/ is loved.

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