There was no denying Griffin’s time here on earth.
Not that we would ever want to, but there was no way that we could have avoided letting everyone in after losing him. Everyone knew our pain and tried to walk alongside us.
And suddenly, everyone was sharing their story with us. Stories of miscarriage, of stillbirth. The pain of losing and the hope of Heaven. I’ve had people I’ve never met sending me emails and messages and sharing their story. Sharing the life of their child.
I read somewhere that 1 in 4 women will lose a child before 1 year of age. From conception to that first birthday cake, life steals one quarter of our children.
Do you know the 25% of your friends and family that have suffered a loss? Are you among them?
I didn’t know many of these stories before losing Griffin, and Craig and I have said again and again how sad we are for those people, because we know now. The sharp pain of losing someone you love before really getting to know them. We know the harsh reality of giving up all expectations you have for a life.
Why do we build community, seeking connection, seeking to be known, but share only the good times?
Why are we so afraid to let people in when we’re hurting? I can’t say I understand losing a child to miscarriage, but I do know the benefit of sharing the grief. Of course there have been people who have said the wrong thing (telling someone who has lost a child they can/will have more children is NOT helpful), it is overshadowed by the kindness that has been poured out for us. We’ve been carried much of the way by our friends and family, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.