Sometimes you read a terrible thing, and it's a stranger and it's so sad, and you pause and you send some healing thoughts out to them, but you don't even know where you're sending them. You are momentarily gloomy, and you prepare to navigate away from the blog where her friend posted about her loss of her newborn baby.
Then a small detail in a comment drags your heart out of your body and turns it inside out and you have such a vivid image of being this women that it takes your breath away.
Wannabe Hippie, who has the cutest girls ever, posted about her friend's tragedy. Asking, "What can I do? Anything at all?" Someone mentioned relief for sore breasts, because her milk would come in of course, with no mouth to feed. This just shatters me- to think of a mother's tender newly milky breasts leaking and hurting like her heart would be. Nursing to me is so much more than just feeding, it's a physical representation of the link I feel between my suddenly-mellowed spirit and Molly's bursting, new one.
All kinds of love and prayers for this woman, and her sweet friend who feels helpless.