This is the story of my grief.  I miscarried during my fourth month of pregnancy when I went into labor and my baby boy arrived.  I was able to hold him and gaze at his loveliness for a few hours – he was so tiny and perfect looking,  lovely little hands and feet, tiny nose and eyes shut tight. We gave him a name and we buried him one week later. This loss was sudden and unexpected.

My intention in writing this blog is not only to heal, but to let others know they are not alone.  If you are here because you have been told your baby is ill or has died, I extend deep compassion and peace to you at this time.

I am white, able-bodied, queer and female. I am married to Sweet Pea and we have one son, Little Bear who turned four years old in late September, 2014.


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