REblog- For Pregnancy Loss Awareness Month
Sight. I can tell you what grief looks like.
A young pastor from a tiny village in South Asia, bent over a shallow hole in the ground, back shuddering with silent cries after lowering his newborn into the earth.
He literally had to tear himself away when it was time to go. He couldn’t bear to leave her in the cardboard computer box, her body gently wrapped in soft cloth purchased just after her death.
Touch. Grief felt like fingertips running over a cardboard computer box. A little heavier than normal because of the infant inside.
Smell. An earthy scent. Each shovel full of parched ground slowly covered the box out of sight. It was dry season so dust rose easily into our nostrils after hitting the box.
Grief’s Taste: salty. Tears running into my mouth. I was standing in the background silently weeping because I wasn’t sure what else…
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