She is every woman who has had a baby born still at birth. She is every woman who has aborted but not known the breadth of her actions. She is every woman who has miscarried or never gotten pregnant.
She is the one who doctor’s say it’s unexplained; she’s perfectly healthy. She is the woman who has lost her life to fertility treatments. She has a laid in a sterile room on a cold table and felt less like a mother and more like a number.
She is every mother who has lost a son or daughter before their time. To motorcycle accidents, or drunk drivers, violence or the like.
She is the temporary mother who has fostered a child for a season to see them ripped away or hosted a child to put them back on a plane.
She is every woman who loved a baby she did not fully know. And lost that baby from her life before she had the chance to know it. She is every woman who has writhed in pain on the bathroom floor. Or stood in NICUs and at gravesides when it should have been the reverse.
She is every woman who has had an open heart but empty arms.
And she is not alone.
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