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Saturday, March 8, 2014


 I often feel his presence. I know it is not something everyone believes, but I do. Yesterday I had a strong day of feeling him close. When I woke in the middle of the night I knew "he" was their. I always felt like it was a boy, the baby I miscarried in the late fall of 1997. A picture I found yesterday of Mark, Beau and I together stirred much emotion about him. The picture was taken on Thanksgiving at our house in 1997.  Mark and I had planed to announce our second pregnancy to the family on Thanksgiving Day, instead it was a day of sadness and pushing through the pain. I had miscarried just days earlier, changing my joy to sorrow in an instant. I had not even told people I was pregnant yet, so to then tell them I had miscarried. In the picture Mark and I have smiles on our faces, but it was the beginning of months of sadness for me. I remember Mark trying to pull me out of my grief, but nothing really helped. I couldn't shake the loss and with the winter being tough for me anyway, the loss just made it worse. Last night I woke and he was with me, I could feel him, it's not something I can describe well, but I knew it was him. I still miss him all these years later. I still wonder what our family would have been like with him in it. I still think about my son Beau, having a brother and what that would have been like for him. I still picture a face, I never saw. Miscarriage is an unspoken grief that we are forced to move on from. Many don't get the pain of it or that it never leaves you completely. I didn't bury a baby, so to many it is unreal, but for me, he is here, near me, waiting...I still miss him all these years later. 

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