Over the years, I have known several friends, colleagues and family members who have lost their beautiful babies. Each has been blessed with other children, and as Sharon so eloquently said, I have no doubt their “grief sits alongside joy”.

This still remains such a taboo subject, as many of you noted, a topic too prickly for most of us who are one step removed from it to know how to address. Our fear of hurting you more, of tearing open old wounds, of saying the wrong thing or the clichéd thing gets in the way of being able to say anything at all.

And yet, you don’t really need our words. You have your own, and they are mighty and masterful at telling your own story. Bless you for sharing this so openly, for making a safe space for many others to do the same. I hope the folks with whom I’ve shared your post tonight will find their own sense of comfort here.

More than six decades years later, both of my parents still speak of the brother that each of their mothers lost. My mom says her older brother was a ‘blue baby’. I’m not sure what that means and I didn’t have the courage to ask. My father has never forgotten that there were five boys in his family, not four.

Two friends have told me in the last year that recent miscarriages have opened the door for their sisters, girlfriends and mothers to speak of their own lost children for the first time. It would seem this particular form grief is more frequent than anyone lets on but generations of silence have kept it it from being brought to the surface.

I hope the tides are turning and that the courage expressed by you and your fellow bloggers will help others to make sense of this experience.

Happy Birthday, Finn.

Peace be with each of you.

KayTar’s school nurse (who we have become close with beyond the normal school nurse relationship) has a son who died 7 years ago, too. KayTar has been able to overcome those in-person barriers in her magical way and talks to her about him often…she even asked for photos of him, which she keeps beside her bed. KayTar never met him, but she loves him. There is a scribbled note on my fridge that says so. Even though he isn’t physically here anymore, even though we never met him, he is still leaving his mark on the world…just as Finn is. All of us who hold you in our hearts, hold him also. Always.

Sharon, “they do not cross each other out as life and death co-exist.” yes. yes.

Mary…the Anne connection. yes. it occurred to me somewhere in the early days after Finn died that the only model i knew for the death of an infant was “wee, white Joyce” from Montgomery’s Anne series. which as a good Islander i had read numerous times in my younger years. strange identification moment. and it had some strange, small comfort in it.