I thought that I had moved past this ages ago, but really I haven't. I just buried the pain so deep that sometimes I could barely tell it was even there anymore. I thought I was the strongest person ever.
And now, after giving birth for the second time, it has all come flooding back over me like someone pouring an entire can of salt into an open wound. It turns out, time doesn't heal. It just creates space in between the hurting.
I always thought that once I had children who were here with me, safe and sound, that I would feel better about all of this. I couldn't have been more wrong. It probably has made it worse. And now, after years of just trying to cope with it all silently, I've decided to take a different course of action.
I think it's time I actually let myself heal.
So, after almost a decade since my first loss, I have stopped smothering the pain and finally started grieving. I gave the babies an identity. I named them. And last night, I lit a candle for each one of them for the National Day of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness.
I can now give them the rememberance that they deserve and I can have some of the closure that I have been searching for.