When your baby dies, you seek validation of their existence. You so badly want for someone else to acknowledge their realness.
How are you expected to love your postpartum body when there is no baby?
As a woman, our bodies are literally designed to bear children. Yet mine let me down.
After losing our daughter, I become so aware of the body that I felt had let me down, instead of loving myself, I became resentful. My breasts were still swollen with no baby to feed. My stomach is still squishy and soft, but there is no newborn to sink into it. I look in the mirror and I’m disappointed by what I see. I knew my body would change after having a baby, but I wasn’t prepared for how it would look with empty arms and a broken heart.
And then through reading a book (Grieving the Child I Never Knew) and the ever so gentle nudge of Jesus’ voice, I realized that my body is a testament to the life that I carried. For 32 weeks my body was the place where her life was with mine and we were inseparable. My body grew accordingly to house the most perfect baby girl.