BLM Connections

The sad reality of losing a child is that in the weeks following your loss you find you are not alone in this grief, meaning that we now belong to a "club" of BLM's (baby loss moms) and dads. It is sad but a blessing to have others to share our stories with.  I don't know that it's possible for anyone to completely understand what it feels like unless it has happened to them.  Of course people (especially those with children) can try to imagine (though why would they want to) how it might feel if they lost one of their own but the reality of it actually happening is something so extreme that I think even those of us who have experienced this kind of pain can't quite get our heads around it fully.  


I'm thankful to be living in a time where technology can connect us and with just a few clicks of a mouse we can find others who understand us and who can offer support that might otherwise be missing in our lives.  Having access to so many stories like ours is bittersweet.  We've established our "new normal" and have new people to share freely with.  On the other hand, some days it is a lot to take in - knowing how many of us are out there feeling this way, and new ones found each day.  Some days it's like watching a news channel that continuously runs stories on losses.  We wish we could put a band-aid on it and stop the bleeding so to speak.  Why can't we just stop this? Does another family really need to go through this kind of heartache?


A fellow BLM (Molly) has an angel, Hayes, who was born into heaven on August 18, 2010.  I'd like to think he is up there playing with Sofia and that he was smiling at her when she walked through the gates. Hayes' mom talked with me a few times when she saw my blog and decided to create one in memory of her son.  Now I follow her blog as well.  This week she posted the below poem and I cried as I read it.  First of all I was surprised I hadn't seen it yet because in the first few months following our loss I read a bunch of poems.  The part I said before about belonging to a "club" of BLM's, well, Molly posted a link to another BLM's blog on her blog, where I saw she found this poem.  We are all connected in some way, and there's something positive (albeit sad) about this kind of bond.  The poem rings true to our reality.  It doesn't matter if it was last week, last month, last year - the feeling (at least for me) is like I lost my child today EVERYDAY.


Love you Sofia. XXOOXXOO

From Slideshow

"I Lost My Child Today"

I lost my child today.
People came to weep
and cry As I just sat
and stared, dry eyed.

They struggled to find
words to say To try
and make the pain
go away. I walked the
floor in disbelief.
I lost my child today.

I lost my child last month
Most of the people went
away. Some still call and
some still stay. I wait to
wake up from this dream
This can't be real--
I want to scream.

Yet everything is locked
inside, God, help me,
I want to cry.
I lost my child last month.

I lost my child last year.
Now people who had came,
have gone. I sit and
struggle all day long, To
bear the pain so deep inside.

And now my friends just
question, Why? Why does
this mother not move on?
Just sits and sings the same
old song. Good heavens,
it has been so long.
I lost my child last year.

Time has not moved on
for me. The numbness it has
disappeared. My eyes have
now cried many tears.

I see the look upon your face,
"She must move on and leave
this place." Yet I am trapped
right here in time. The songs
the same, as is the rhyme,

I lost my child......Today.

~Netta Wilson~