Tears

Two years ago a group of college girlfriends started trying to keep in touch through blogs and I joined in. I couldn't imagine the profound effect another blogger I didn't even know would have on me.

Is it strange that Monday night I cried for a woman I don't know, have never met, will probably never meet, yet feels so close? I've been reading her blog for a couple of months now but I don't remember how I found it. She experienced the stillbirth of her son in October and she is working through the tragedy on her blog. Reading C's blog has made me hug E and L tighter. Made me take more time with them. Made me try not take them for granted.

Her post on Monday moved me in a way I cannot explain. Her writing is lovely, stunning in its description of him and of her love for him.

Monday night Landon had a reaction to a new item in his diet (another story for another post) and he was terribly, pitifully sick. Screaming in pain, throwing up, dry heaving, exhausted. I was tired and worried & I laid down in his floor to sit with him for a while. Each time he would get upset I would stand at his crib and rub his back.

In the middle of the night, in the dark of his room, I began to think of C and her sweet boy. I started crying. Muffled sobs. Big tears. For a woman a whole country away.

I don't think I would have posted about this, but earlier today a friend of a friend suffered the loss of a baby in utero and I just needed to talk about it. I can't explain it.

Why was I able to conceive my babies so easily? Why was I able to carry both pregnancies to full term?

Why do clueless, hopeless, careless women have babies they don't love or care for but smart, loving, established women are denied?

Why?

(C - if you happen to read this post, I hope you don't want to kick me for writing about you. You and Callum have impacted me a great deal.)