Miscarriage

There are losses that no word truly captures. A child who was within you — for weeks or months, perhaps only for days — and is no longer. A life that had only just begun to interweave with yours, and then, from one moment to the next, was carried away again. Sometimes with pain and medical intervention. Sometimes quietly, almost unnoticed. Always with a tear that goes deep, even if no one on the outside can see it.

Your body has done something that feels like a betrayal: it let go. A child you wanted to hold could not be held. And now there stands a question that branches into a thousand other questions — about the why, about the what-might-have-been, about a meaning that cannot be forced. Often added to this is the fact that the world around you keeps functioning, as if nothing happened. As if this child were not real, simply because it had not yet been born.