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  • Catie Clobes

The Grief.

Grief. Traumatic grief. Unpredictable. You wake up knowing that you're going to have a "bad day". The pain in your chest is instant once you get out of bed, your body aches for your child, and that's it, you feel nothing else. You don't want to eat. You cry and scream out for your baby, uncontrollably. You ruminate about cold hands, 911 calls, flashing lights, nurses crying all around you and bringing you your baby wrapped in a blanket. You cry for other parents going through the same pain. You try to bargain with God. Your family worries but knows by now what your "bad days" are like, so they just comfort as best they can. Nothing, absolutely nothing, helps to make it better that day, venting is a release, and you just pray that tomorrow will be better. 💔 Oh Evee. Evee. Evee. "I'll reach my hands out in the dark, and wait for yours to interlock" 🎶❤️💔

The Grief. The Pain.

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