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June 19, 2010

Comments

Gemma@Greyscale

Savage and yet I feel that being able to pen such emotion must be a release, a necessary release! Quite confronting for a reader! But also there is a feeling that life should be valued and revalued!

Old Grizz

I cannot begin to tell you how much I appreciate you sharing this. I cry for your loss and thank you for letting me feel your sorrow and sadness.

Linda May

that was heart wrenching. I lost 2 also, but very early on. You are not a failure for having this happen to you.

Understanding Alice

heartbreaking, harsh and real - you are brave to write it all - thank you x

Susan

I honor you...and your babe.

Dina Spice

My chest hurts for you Julie, and I am crying as I write this. You are extremely brave to be able to keep writing about that (void of words) experience after all this time. It happened to you, and is part of what makes you who you are. Such a huge, meaningful part of your life, horrible to keep revisiting I'm sure, but I can't image being a poet, a mother, and being able to file it away too deep in your brain.

I had a miscarriage, but at the beginning of my second trimester, and I still cannot bring myself to think about that for more than a moment at a time. Again, I think you are so brave, and I am so thankful you shared such a huge part of what makes you, you, with us.

- Dina

Carina

Desperate truth here. Well-written and powerful.

Mother Henna

Julie, this is so beautiful and honest and speaks straight to my own bereaved mother heart. If you ever want to share this as a guest post on the KOTA blog, I would be honored to host it there. So many miracles to you!
k-

angie

thanks for this, Julie.

mine hit me 18 years later, for no reason. we were caught up in the whirlwind of graduation and all the excitement and pride in our youngest. then, the morning after the party, I step in the bathroom and look in the mirror and unbidden the thought -- it's your graduation, too -- flew into my mind. I started heaving dry, deep sobs. I couldn't stop. I stood in the shower for what seemed like hours just moaning. and the strange thing is I've never dwelt that much on the lost twin; it wasn't a baby. it was a hole in the ultrasound. but that pain came from somewhere deep inside me, so deep I didn't know it was there.

your poem is so honest and raw -- it says all the things I can't.

KB

Thank you for sharing such a personal experience with us.

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