Stillbirth

A child that comes into the world silently. A belly that was full and is now empty. Arms that held what was not permitted to stay. If you are reading this text, then you are carrying a pain for which there are no adequate words. Perhaps it has been weeks, perhaps years — and still there is something that does not pass. A rift that does not heal the way other wounds heal. A love that is searching for a place and cannot find one.

Medicine speaks of prenatal death, of placental insufficiency, of chromosomes, of causes that can sometimes be found and often cannot. All of that has its place. But it does not explain how you wake in the morning and for a moment forget — and then remember again. It does not explain the silence in a room that should have been filled. It does not explain why your body gave birth without releasing a living child into the world.