Posts Tagged ‘pregnancy loss’

Two Candles, One Dream


As I type this and stare at two flickering candles, I think about all the others out there doing the same.

It doesn’t seem right that the autumn air is warm outside while a chill runs through my bones in this room.

It seems unreal that one year ago I watched one candle burn while now I watch two.

I don’t think I ever came to terms with the last loss. From a medical viewpoint, it wasn’t a baby. Just a placenta and possibly tissue. Cells. No one really knows. I could never let myself imagine it as a baby, but as I stare at that second candle tonight I feel differently.

The pain and grief have subsided but are never far away. I can’t let myself go there. I have to move on. Not because my losses don’t matter, but because they do.

To everyone out there who has experienced infant or pregnancy loss, I hope you find comfort and strength, now and always.




The Flame

Last night, before I lit my candle for National Pregnancy Loss and Infant Remembrance, I made a mental list of all the bloggers I could think of that had lost babies.  At first, between three women, six babies were lost.  This count by itself broke my heart.. Then the number rose to seven, eight, and soon nine.  Just when I thought I had remembered each blogger, the number rose to 15.  15 women out there who have suffered as I have, many of those suffering on a much more horrific level.

After reaching 15, I thought of all the women I knew in real life who had lost a child.

16 . . .

17. . .

20. . .

Then the number rose to 30.

After reaching 30, I counted the friends and acquaintances of women I knew who had suffered the same tragedy at some point in their lives.

35. . .40. . . 50. 

51. . .

52. . . 

53. . .

I stopped counting after a bit, but I am fairly certain the number of women I knew or knew of had reached the 60’s or 70’s.

70 women out there who had suffered a loss so painful and horrible, there are no words to describe it.  70 women, many who are burning candles in their hearts, flames flickering wildly.

What truly is devastating is that this is merely my own count.  How many women do you know?

After I lit the candle last night, I let myself sit a few minutes to simply watch the flame.  My husband joined me.  The flame danced strongly and vibrantly.  I thought about my baby, my daughter, just as she was.  I didn’t allow myself to think of the two and a half years that preceded her conception or of the events that might come after her.

Just her.

To me, she was and always will be my angel.

After we blew out her candle, I realized how truly cold the world is without her.  But, I also felt love, mixed in with a flicker of healing.