Photo Courtesy of Perils of the Endtime--Panting Hart.
My daughter was stillborn last night. She was only twenty-two weeks along. She'd never had a chance.
Her mother and I spent the entire day holding her, speaking to her, singing to her, doing things we never thought we'd ever be doing and, inevitably, saying goodbye.
This is a low unlike anything I've ever known. I feel like I got tossed back into the same pit I was in when I was a kid, and the light was only this tiny little pinprick that seemed miles and miles away.
Part of me is missing. It's somewhere west of my stomach. Something is gone and I don't think it's ever coming back. Its left this void that is slowly turning into a singularity. I leave it unchecked and like anger it'll consume me.
I don't know how I'll move forward from here.
I just know that I have too.
See, I know that, not because I've done it before, because I haven't. Not from this far. I know that because other people have. Other people mourned. And then other people endured.
This is a low point. Life is filled with them. There are highs to be enjoyed but they must be earned. You earn them by enduring the lows. By persevering through the darkness. By battling through the pain and misery and sickness so that you may be stronger on the other side.
I bear in mind, I always try to bear in mind, that no matter how low things get for me, someone else has it worse. No matter how dark it gets, someone would kill to have my problems. Because just as people were there for me in my time of darkness, I may be called upon to be there for someone else in theirs.
So I endure. I cry. I mourn. And then I ask God for strength and He always answers, so I rise.
I look up and see the pinprick of light and I do not focus on its size, only that it exists. And to reach it I will have to ENDURE.
So I will endure this darkness, and every subsequent darkness hereafter, and I will do my best to remember that each day is a gift, a blessing, and not all of them will be good, but not all of them will be bad, either.
I will hold the memory of my daughter in my heart till the end of my days and I will see her again one day. Until then I will endure. I will learn from this. If given the opportunity I will pass on that lesson to someone else.
Born and raised in Northern California to two parents who did the best they could, and really screwed up anyway. After sampling juvenile delinquency and teen parenthood I graduated to homeless nomad, trekking through the United States for eleven years and having many, many grand adventures. Following a brush with death and adulthood, I settled in the midwest and accepted a sentence at a day job where I learned how to sell myself and telecommunications. Following a disastrous marriage, I relocated to Eastern Washington, and for now, that's where I am.
I turned to writing in 2008 and I've been making a go of it ever since. Still learning by screwing up, I started to find success in 2016.