loss in the eyes of a momma bear.

Loss is always difficult. It's a mountain the heart can't bear to climb. It's got a million different faces and appears in a million different forms.

I am a miscarriage survivor, and that is not something I ever thought I would be.

I see you there sweet soul.

I never thought about the fact that pregnancy does not always end in a joyous meeting of parents and baby. Sometimes you never get to meet that little soul, kiss it's little face, or count it's little toes. I never thought about it until I lived it, and all I can remember thinking was 'did it even happen? was any of what I felt real?' because being told it was not as I had thought it was made me feel like perhaps it had never been at all. That hurt worse than knowing I had lost something - when I started to feel like I had imagined ever having it in the first place.

Losing a child in a special kind of hurt. Having only ever lost a pregnancy and not a child (and I pray that day may never show it's ugly face in my life) I can't say if either is really worse. Loss is loss, and when you lose a child, a piece of your heart - of your very soul - it changes you. It breaks you in places you didn't know could break and sometimes it makes you feel like you may never see light again.

I had an extremely hard time of it after losing our first little one. I cried for a good hour after finding out and then I just kind of went numb. I pretended I was fine. It didn't feel real to me, so I just went on. But I was different.

it can't rain all the time..

I tried doing different things to get closure, but truly all I wanted - what my fragile little heart wanted in that time - was a baby to love on, to hold and to cherish. I felt I had failed in my duty as a mom. I couldn't protect my only child and I had lost them forever. I started to doubt my body and I honestly wondered if it would ever happen for me - for both of us - again. I didn't think I could carry a child to term because I felt so betrayed by my body.

There's no turning point. I got reckless and desperate and one thing led to another - bing, bang, boom - and our little bear was conceived. It wasn't the smartest choice I've ever made, but he healed my heart as completely as I could have ever hoped for. Having Seth showed me I can do it. My body can carry a baby - healthy and thriving - to full term. It can bring beautiful little souls into the world. And for a long time I didn't think I could do that.

Losing a child changes you. It changed the way I looked at a lot of things - though the same can be said about being a momma bear as well - and it showed me not only what I was made of, but what my sweet husband was made of. He was my gentle comfort, the sweetest strength as I cried and mourned and hated myself. He never left my side in that time when we needed each other most and we grew together so much out of that loss.

Because of all I've gained from it, I can never truly come to regret what we've gone through. That little star came and went, leaving permanent scorch marks on everyone it touched. It brought me closer to my husband, and it inevitably gave me one of the greatest blessings my life has been graced with so far. I love deeper because I know how very, very fragile life in now. I hold my loves closer to my tender heart. I am the mother I am today because of the little soul we lost.

Wherever you are, sweet angel - I hope you know how very much we love you. I spent a lot of time weeping for you and hurting for you but I have come to see just how wonderful a gift your short life was for us. Shine bright, little star - your momma will always love you.