It’s been almost 3 years since I lost my second child.
He was there for awhile and suddenly he wasn’t there anymore. I tell you, there is no greater pain for a mother than the pain of losing her own child. Whether it was caused by death, or simply by a separation.
It was one of the lowest times of my life and I found it very hard to accept the fact that I lost my unborn baby and also the fact that I cannot give birth to another child. The excruciating pain that I had to endure physically could not match the emptiness that I felt in my womb after he’s gone. Everything was just so plain dark.
In the midst of my darkest hours, I tried to seek strength by reaching out to the other mothers who happened to have the similar experience with me. It really helped me, so much more than I expected. The realisation that I was not the only one who had to go through this nightmare made me stop feeling sorry for myself. So I got up, exhale and move on. I still feel a pinch of pain in my stomach every time I remember my baby, but I can say that it is not destructive any longer, because now I can remember him with gratitude. I thank him for ever lightened up my days. He is forever in my heart, just as much as I keep my first son in this same heart of mine. And I thank God for ever gave me the opportunity to go through a very tough lesson about how to accept and appreciate life.
This poem I read, as I let my Kai go…
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.