valuing life

 A year ago, the dead little one inside me left.

I've been pregnant for eight of the last twelve months to children ushered into the Father's arms instead of my own. Four possibilities. Four opportunities. Four rounds of devastation.

I have become familiar with loss.

And through this loss, my empathy has been strengthened. My patience grows with parents struggling to support their children, as I was unable to foster mine. I long for the day when my black sisters have the same hope of safe birth experiences in my own country. My heart breaks as every new murder headline is more than a hashtag, but a family and community devastated with violence. Loss.

Over 200,000 families have experienced loss this year, too, just because of COVID-19. Each time I wash my hands, each time I faithfully wear my mask, I pray for the families lamenting loved ones. I remember my babies each time someone tries to tell me that "the schools should just be open because kids don't even get the virus." I want to ask, "who have you lost?"

I'm only a year into this mama-identity marked by loss.

But loss and inequality are constantly shoved into my consciousness. This week, those I love are again talking about abortion and "pro-life" ideals to make reproductive care harder to access. It's not extreme to consider a scenario in the near-future where my own D&C surgeries would become illegal or prohibitively expensive with national law changes. 

It's hard, too, to watch major political figures who shunned medical advice be offered the best health care, paid with tax dollars. We paid $7,000 to lose Whisper. We paid $1,000 to lose Glimmer. We pay up to $500 every month for my on-going trauma counseling. Out of pocket. With no help from insurance or government. Will pro-life judges help my family when we lose beautiful embryos or fetuses?

I am well acquainted with injustice. I have lived in puppet democracies, visited for-profit theme parks of "elected" presidents, and always been grateful to return home to the "Land of the Free." Becoming a Loss Mama has changed my perception of my homeland. I see images of babies like mine used to stir emotions for fundraising with NO REGARD for traumatized mothers. I hear rhetoric that claims religious piety used to slander women, even coming from the lips of women.

I am tired of weeping. I want to see change. I want to see the Church rise to this opportunity and love women through loss. Love women regardless. Listen to women, like Jesus did. Value life at every stage, for everyone.

I pray my babies did not die in vain, that I may live and love well as their legacy.