*This post discusses pregnancy loss. If you’ve experienced this recently, proceed with caution.*

Did you know October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month? I didn’t. Not until this year. Not until I had a loss to mourn.
Nothing’s changed about October, really. It’s still a month I love. It’s the month of turning leaves, of my mom’s birthday, and of my wedding anniversary. But, now, it’s also a month in which I can remember and talk about a baby I didn’t get to hold in my arms, but hold in my heart.
I experienced a miscarriage in June and though I know I’m not the only one, I really wish I was. I guess that’s why there’s a month dedicated to these losses now. To make us feel less alone. Less guilty for what’s not our fault.
I’ve learned the hard way that a miscarriage is a very personal, very lonely, loss. It’s hard for others to help you grieve someone they (even you) never knew. I was sharing with my sister-in-law yesterday that one of the biggest ways in which I’ve mourned has been through writing. Finding ways to express my pain, doubt, and (eventually) hope.
Since it is indeed October, I’ll be sharing some of those pieces in the coming weeks. My prayer is that you would find hope in the midst of your suffering, the same I’ve strived and prayed for (though there are certainly still days that feel gloomy and melancholic). May you remember that there is always the goodness of God in the land of the living, even when the unthinkable and unexplainable happens.
In Light of Eternity,
Rosa Gilbert
P.S. This is actually a brand new poem. Written today. Very much a first, rough draft. Just felt like sharing this one first.
At Home It's been almost four months and my daughter still plays, cuddles, sleeps even, with that stuffed dog from the hospital gift shop. One of the ER nurses gave it to her during our afternoon (turned evening) visit when she was restless, desperate to leave. I was, too. I can't remember the nurse's name, but she was Latina, like me. From Colombia. We chatted about warm things, good things, in Spanish—like how she was engaged, and the fact that we shared the same birthday (I love my birthday). All the while, the cold world of beeping monitors and coughing people around us drowned in bad news delivered in English. I'd be receiving some soon. She apologized, perdón, for how long we'd had to wait and for drawing my blood a second time that day (I hate needles) but, I didn't care. In between her first "Hola," and final, "Un placer conocerte," she had made me feel, for a few minutes, at home. Even as my body was evicting my unborn baby from his. - r.e.g. Spanish to English dictionary Perdón = I’m sorry Hola = Hello Un placer conocerte = Pleasure to meet you
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I know this pain, too, sister. Thank you for your beautiful words and shared heart. ♥️ Many others will feel comforted by them. Keep writing!
I know this pain, my friend. I wish we were both spared the experience and grief ❤️🩹 Poetry heals in so many ways.