As my responsibilities pile on and my crazy life gets more hectic, my memory fails me quite often but there is a date I never can forget. It’s today, June 3rd. It doesn’t matter how many years have passed or how happy I am with my family. It’s a day that reminds me of the fragility of life and dreams that sometimes don’t come true.
Just like millions of women, my heart still remembers a baby that was never born. For those who have just miscarried, all I can say is that it does get better, but you never forget. It’s been fourteen years for me since I got pregnant for the first time after too many tries, after feeling I was trapped in a body that failed me and refused to do what for others came so easily.
The joy I felt was short-lived. The miscarriage began a few days later and I saw my dream of being a mother frustrated once again. That baby’s due date would have been June 3. As time goes by, you do make peace with what wasn’t meant to be, but that doesn’t mean you forget the pain. You learn to live with it, after you grieve for what couldn’t be.
So today I send a huge hug to all the moms who remember a little angel they never got to hold in their arms. You are not alone. Accept your sadness and your anger. Then use them to become stronger. Even if it hurts to remember, one day you’ll learn to accept. Even if you never forget the day that child was supposed to be born.