Image by max's pixs via Flickr
Yesterday, my godson received his first communion. His parents celebrated their 11th wedding anniversary.
Eleven years ago, I was not able to attend their wedding. I was left in the US, waiting for my baby to leave my body by her own. The doctor decided that it was safer to be nearby in case I went into labor.
As we were celebrating as a family to joyous occasions, I could not help traveling through memory lane.
My husband came back for his brother's wedding and my mom traveled to be with me in case I needed to go to the hospital.
That day the genetic specialist called and gave me our diagnosis. I needed my dh to be by my side, and I couldn't tell my mom what I had learned.
I was my baby girl's tomb and life seemed not worth living.
As I wrote on my last post, I survived the pain and the sorrow, and eleven years later I am a better person because of my dead children.
Today is National Children Memorial Day: a worldwide event to remember all those precious children that died before their time.
No matter where you live. Please lit a candle at 7:00pm so during 24 hours, all around the world, candles burn in memory of the children that are loved, MISSed and that make this world a better place to live in.
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