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A Bedside Prayer in the Shadow of Grief
— Child loss and my pursuit to find God
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It was far too late, she was too far gone, and even though by now I knew my child was gone, the hold that denial had on me was heavily strong.
A few hours had passed, and I was lying in the hospital bed, getting as ready as I could to expel the little life I had carried for nine months, a life now lost before birth.
By my bedside was my partner, barely holding back his tears, my mother on the opposite side. They sat there like two tree branches supporting me, holding me up as the agony and anguish tried to take me down. The room was filled with family members who came to give support and ultimately say goodbye to a child, who would never got to see the light of day.
I’ve never quite got it. Why were they all there in my hospital room on that cold and sombre day? A day as sombre as the feeling in my chest while writing this. I guess there is an unexplainable kindness to people, a kindness that I’ve often gone blind to and which I hope to see more of. Not in grief but in celebration, a celebration of life.
A few moments had passed, the usual condolences, tears and a heavy feeling in the air, like dread, grief, a mix of disbelief and a…
