A lifetime of love — more more more — not of a living body, but of one beyond the physical — love felt in the network of cells that remember and ache — rocks gathered on the shore — reciting these poems — simply saying the name, Charles Wallace, and I love you — it's catching that baby up too.
Read MoreYou’re remembering, you’re feeling, you’re disappearing, you’re thinking, you’re learning, you’re listening, you’re trying, you’re struggling, you’re growing, you’re loving, you’re crying, you're holding, you're living.
Read MoreOn one side of my heart, a deep well of love, admiration, awe, and gratitude for every being that gets to exist. How is it that anyone gets to make it out into the world alive? What an absolute miracle each life is. And then there is the other side of my heart - an ever-tunneling density of love packed into a black hole that will never be fully received.
Read MoreI just wish I could walk and walk and walk and keep walking. Maybe forever. Into the mist of an impossibly dense forest on an impossibly steep mountain. And then walk some more. Maybe I will find him there.
Read MoreShe went in less than fifteen minutes, after we said our good byes. She waited for us. I guess she knew when.
Read MoreWhen my son Felix died at birth, I was sure that all milestones did too. For 37 weeks, we’d watched and felt Felix’s progress and growing strength in utero. Now, there would be none of the joyful and challenging ‘firsts’ we had experienced with our firstborn. Felix’s eyes would never open, his teeth would never burst through tender gum, and the silence of each night without his cries would be deafening.
Read MoreBereaved parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion, and the other side of getting through this mess called grief.
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Parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion we learn for others, having been through this mess — and see it reflected back at you, acknowledged and understood.
Thanks to photographer Xin Li and to artist Stephanie Sicore for their respective illustrations and photos.
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