They say it takes a village. They are right. It takes a village to survive this thing called child loss.
It’s the village that lends a hand to get you back up from the black hole that you get thrown into after you loose your child – or a loved one for that matter.
It’s the village that allows you to speak the raw truth. Listens with no judgement. Offers no platitudes. Doesn’t rush you through your grief journey.
It’s the village that feels your pain. Understands the size, depth and complexity of the hole in your heart that longs for your child.
It’s the village that’s there on the Holidays. The special “would have been” milestones. The Anniversaries, to ensure that your fragile heart is bubble wrapped in love.
It’s the village that shows up on the first day of grief, the second week, the third month, the fourth year – time and time again to just “check in”; make sure you’re ok.
It’s the village that never forgets. Never shy’s from mentioning your child’s name. Always remembers with you.
I’m grateful for having a village. Many like me, simply don’t have one; leaving them feeling alone, tired and fearful that their child will be forgotten.
This journey is hard. I can’t begin to imagine what it would be like to walk the gravel roads of grief without the support of my village.
The fabric of my village is not unified. It’s a weaved tapestry of patches – souls brave enough to have stood by me or joined my side along this journey. Many of which; carry side by side in their hearts, not only their child, but also mine.
It’s these brave and generous souls that have enabled me to make sweet lemonade out of my motherhood.
For them and their babies; whom I love and carry in my heart alongside Jude, I am eternally grateful for and to.
Find your village in any of the resources below.