How hard it must be...

... to explain ones mourning, or really, to mourn at all, in a social circle where many would consider that precious little one whose loss you feel so keenly as nothing more than a lump of cells to do with, to use, or discard as you will.

My First Son, a Pure Memory in the NYTimes is a quite, quite beautiful story on the stillbirth of a son.

"Grief hauled about, and nowhere to put it down."