A poem

To those who look away when I grow teary-eyed in the baby department, look a little deeper.
Surely you have some compassion in your heart.

To those who change the subject when I speak my daughter's name, change your way of thinking.
It just might change your whole life.

To those who roll their eyes and say that we barely had her at all, how could we miss her so much.
In our hearts we have seen her live a thousand times.
We have seen her first steps, first day of school, her wedding, and her children.
We have had her forever in our minds.

To those who say we can have another, we did.
I am thankful for her everyday, but even if I have twenty more babies, I will forever have one in the grave, and that is too many.

To those who say to get on with my life, I have.
It is a different life, the life of a grieving mother.
One with a tremendous amount to be thankful for, but also one with a lot to mourn the loss of!

Do not judge the bereaved mother. She comes in many forms.

She is breathing, but she is dying.
She may look young, but inside she has become ancient.
She smiles, but her heart sobs.
She walks, she talks, she cooks, she cleans, she works, she IS, but she IS NOT, all at once.
She is here, but part of her is elsewhere for eternity.

Do not dismiss us: we have shaped more than just the future
generation.

We have released all the tiny angels who are watching over you.

Open your eyes to US, and you just might see THEM.

Author Unknown