Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day

Today is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. Not one of those days that would have been on my radar prior to having a son with CDH.

We were so blessed that our son survived and thrived despite this terrible defect, but many do not.

I am often struck when I read the search phrases that people have used that bring them to my blog…

Just in the last two days the most frequent (in no particular order) are:
felted sweater bag
cdh survival rates by region
how to make a bag from felted sweater
can a hernia be missed by an ultrasound
left brain qualities
pulmonary hypertension baby cdh
cdh survival stories

I often think of the people on the other end of the search. The ones that just want to make a sweater bag and the ones who are searching for some shred of hope into a condition that has turned their lives upside down.

What a vast difference in life situations, and I guess I’ve been there too. The one searching and hoping, praying that your baby wouldn’t be a statistic. Because they are more than statistics.

Today I am thinking of all the CDH babies who lost their fight and the families who are missing them…the families who at one point searched and hoped and prayed that their baby would make it, would beat the odds. And it didn’t happen.

In particular Jack Ryan Gilham, Luke, ParkerAvery, and Ally and their earthly families who miss them terribly.

In “Owen’s Story” on the top of my blog I have part of a poem (not my own) that touched me and how I have changed since having my son. I want to repeat it here.

“Thoughts on Becoming a Mother”
“I will be a better mother for all that I have endured. I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter, neighbor, friend and sister because I have known pain.

I know disillusionment as I have been betrayed by my own body. I have been tried by fire and hell many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.

So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort. I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs.

I listen.

And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely. I have learned the immense power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth and when life is beyond hard. I have learned a compassion that only comes with walking in those shoes.

I have learned to appreciate life.”

Please think about someone else today who might be suffering. See their pain, mourn it, and join them in theirs. Listen

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