Maybe it is only because I am a first time mother and it strikes a chord with me. I would like to think that I am just a compassionate person, though sometimes I doubt that in myself.
And yet, here I am, thinking about it day after day, stuck on it. I'm sure she thinks that for everyone but her time has moved on, leaving her behind in her grief. I'm sure that sadly, it's probably true. The world continues to turn. But me? I am there, she may not know it but I am. It would be no help to her if she knew, because really what can I do? Nothing I say or do will bring him back. All I have is a baby boy who is still alive, a few month ahead of where her little man should be.
And guilt. It is stupid to feel guilty I am sure, but it's there. Obviously I am thankful that I still have my little guy with me, but I can't help but wonder Why? Why her and not me? Why should we be any different? We don't love our babies differently, we don't love them more or less than the other. It is not fair. It is not something I can fix, though I would give up much to be able to bring her little boy back.
All I have to give are my thoughts. I hope it's enough, because I have nothing more to offer.