This is for the dads who have lost – a baby, a child, a piece of their future.

The dads whose eyes lit up upon hearing the words “I'm pregnant” and whose hearts dimmed when the words “there's no heartbeat” shot through their ears.

The dads who were changed by the whisper of life and then again by the screech of death.

The dads who shared DNA with their child, but never got to share in their life.

The dads who felt their baby's presence while touching the flesh of a growing womb, but never felt their baby's flesh against their own.

The dads who rearranged their schedules in order to witness the evidence of new life, and then again to witness that life come to an end.

The dads who said goodbye before even having the chance to say hello.

The dads who dreamed of watching a child grow, but instead experienced the nightmare of watching one die.

The dads who looked forward to showing their child the beauty of life, but instead saw first hand the burden of death.

The dads who held it together while their world was falling apart.

The dads who held the hands of the mothers who went home without a baby to hold.

The dads who carried on with empty arms, but never with an empty heart.

This is for the dads who have lost – a baby, a child, a piece of their future; the dads who have lost every single moment of watching their baby grow up.

You have not been forgotten.

This post was originally published at A Beautifully Burdened Life. Be sure to follow Jenny on Facebook for more on her incomplete family and imperfect parenting.

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