Grieving This Sibling That I Never Met
I wrote this post last night, and the grief was deep. Today, right now, it is easier, for the moment. But I know that it won't always be so. Three weeks ago today, I lost my youngest sibling. Miscarried, at just nine weeks. It was a grief far greater than I could've imagined. I ached so much. Not for this baby's sake, because I knew that he or she was (is) in heaven with God, which is by far the greatest place to be, but I ache for me, for my other siblings, for our parents. There were (are) so many hurts. It hurts that I never had the chance to meet this sibling, the opportunity to cuddle and rock it as a newborn, the gift of watching it grow up. So many things I never had the chance to experience with this baby. I thought I was doing better, that I was moving on. It still hurt, yes, but not the raw grief like at the beginning. But raw grief comes again. I have yet to be able to talk to anyone other than my family about t