Wave

**On October 15th, a wave of light will cross the world as we light candles for the pregnancies we have lost. Today (and always), please take the time to let the families in your life know that their lost babies are not forgotten.**

Yesterday was exhausting and I felt stretched in every direction. I tried to go out in the evening for fun, but in the end, the baby who had whined and fussed all day long was now crying inconsolably in the car seat. I hopped out of my car into the dark, clear night and looked up, relieved to find the stars.

There is something so comforting in a clear night sky - looking up, overcome by vertigo and infinity, feeling the presence of every spirit that has ever existed. To the stars, our lifetime is a mere breath. There is peace in that feeling of unity - that we are all infinitesimally small and the two feet or two thousand miles that separate us mean nothing. The ones who are so far away, the ones who have left us are right there whenever we pause to look up.

In that brief moment, something stirred in me and the sounds of Lillia's wailing faded. It has been so long since I last needed that calming spirit around me, so long since I felt it. Here I am, over three years since I felt my world falling in, and the baby I lost is just a passing memory, a spirit I barely have time to recognize. And yet, he is still there ready to breathe encouragement into my heart when I need it the most. The ones we love are never gone, but stay by our sides to remind us to cherish every moment.

For you, baby, I will light a candle tonight and carry the wave of light across the world.