I did not expect to have this outlet in my life, found it due to the whimsy of knitting. I delved deeply into the lives of other knitters, found their lives fascinating and joined in.
Over time I made contact, tentative. I found a voice to use, one I have been reassured is my own. I sought and found other Mamas like me, quantified as "First Time Mothers of Twin Boys Born In April of 07 and Learning the Ropes while Juggling Me". I branched out from these Mamas, found good fits and ill fits in the blogs I frequented.
Then I found Her because She talked about her raw and striking photos. I listened to her story of a twin boy, her LostBaby and I cried a lot when I read Kate's words because they strike the bone. Hard. And then make you laugh. I read here when it was set up for other Mamas of Lost ones. And then found Her because of her shattering writing, her cohesive writing, her provoking funny writing. And then I found Her because of her Daughter's battle against a terrifying disease. And now she is A BabyLost Mama, and I sit grappling with how I came to be so very wounded by this loss.
If I had not read Kate, I might have despaired even deeper in the throes of post baby depression and lost sight of what a missed nap really means. If I had not met Bon, I could not have knit her little one a hat. If I had not met Tuesday, I would have missed out on the most precious Warrior baby child...the most beatific Soul, the light of Many eyes and Hearts. I am not sure of the wound left, know mine is nothing in light of her Mama's and her family. But there is a reason. Isn't there? That we find each other in these ways? If I had not met Jessica Kate, I would not know what a true Mama Warrior looked like. And it is something I have never seen, her grace and strength and love.
It may not seem like much, words at a time like this. When lost ones are not mine. When all sense seems gone. I do not regret the finding of these women. And I so so regret that Tuesday died. Because there are no words for a baby lost. Just prayers.