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Pain and sorrow rode with us to the church that day. My fully engorged breasts reminded me of what I had lost. Most of the day was a blur. A moment of my eldest daughter’s face filled with questions. All others wore somber expressions. People had no idea what to say on occasions like those. What do you say to a mother who lost her child before even meeting her little one?

My mother walked to the back of the SUV. The gentleman from the funeral home pulled the tiny white casket out of the back and handed it to my mother. Part of me still wishes I had done this last one thing for my baby. At the time, I was afraid of falling. Not just by tripping. I was afraid my whole being would break.

The days leading up to the moment Mom put the casket down were horrendous. I lost my child and nearly lost my husband in the process. People made the effort to comfort me, give me advice. Even if a person has had a miscarriage or stillbirth cannot understand completely what goes through the mind of another.

His cousin had told me to do a c-section. He told me how many losses she’d had. I didn’t give one ounce about what she had to say. Not once was she twenty-eight weeks along. My baby was a fully formed human being when I held her breathless body in my aching arms. No one has lived my life. No other person could feel what I was feeling in that one instant that changed my life.

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