Why We're Here
Part 1
For years my mother was told she couldn't conceive than low and behold I manifested in her womb. My mother had what you may call a hard pregnancy with me. She endured many complications to maintain a vibrant pregnancy and alas I was born all that she had hoped for because I was healthy. Afterwards my mother became pregnant again, but suffered a miscarriage. She become pregnant once more which resulted in another baby girl being born, but this time she was not as fortunate because this baby girl was not as healthy in fact she wasn't healthy at all. Her name was Gert short for Gertrude after my mother's own grandmother.
Gert was born prematurely at 7 months on November 11. She was born with a condition known as Respiratory Distress
Syndrome, in layman’s terms her lungs weren't fully developed. Gert lived exactly 8 days before leaving this earth as peacefully as she entered. See, I wasn't quite a year old when Gert passed, but I can tell her story like the back of my hand because my mother made sure I knew it. I'm 35 years old, and for 35 years through my mother's personal struggles and triumphs, beyond her hopes and dreams, and among her highs and lows she repeatedly told me the story.
Each year that my birthday was celebrated my mother made sure to acknowledged Gert's birthday too. She told me the story not because she simply wanted me to know that I wasn't an only child, but it was because it brought her peace to remember Gert. As a child growing up I often wondered what it would have been like to grow up with a sibling to laugh with and bicker with, to bond and share life's experiences with. But it honestly didn't register that if I had such a curiosity imagine my mother's longings. As an adult I realized more and more that my mother was carrying around a hurt that had never healed, and would never heal. She was missing a part of herself that even through the years had not be replaced, a void that I saw could never be filled.
I created this foundation to encourage mothers, fathers, and siblings alike to tell your story. Share the story and keep your little loved one's memory not just close to your heart, but outwardly with the world. Parents tell your story, tell the story to your other children, tell the story to any listening ear because it deserves to be heard. Your little one should not be forgotten nor should the magnitude of your loss. I created this organization to honor my mother and all the other mother's across the globe who have experienced such loss and devastation. Know that your emptiness does not make you empty. This is a platform to recognize your love, and for you to feel loved in return. My hope is that your pain one day be turned into power.
Gert was born prematurely at 7 months on November 11. She was born with a condition known as Respiratory Distress
Syndrome, in layman’s terms her lungs weren't fully developed. Gert lived exactly 8 days before leaving this earth as peacefully as she entered. See, I wasn't quite a year old when Gert passed, but I can tell her story like the back of my hand because my mother made sure I knew it. I'm 35 years old, and for 35 years through my mother's personal struggles and triumphs, beyond her hopes and dreams, and among her highs and lows she repeatedly told me the story.
Each year that my birthday was celebrated my mother made sure to acknowledged Gert's birthday too. She told me the story not because she simply wanted me to know that I wasn't an only child, but it was because it brought her peace to remember Gert. As a child growing up I often wondered what it would have been like to grow up with a sibling to laugh with and bicker with, to bond and share life's experiences with. But it honestly didn't register that if I had such a curiosity imagine my mother's longings. As an adult I realized more and more that my mother was carrying around a hurt that had never healed, and would never heal. She was missing a part of herself that even through the years had not be replaced, a void that I saw could never be filled.
I created this foundation to encourage mothers, fathers, and siblings alike to tell your story. Share the story and keep your little loved one's memory not just close to your heart, but outwardly with the world. Parents tell your story, tell the story to your other children, tell the story to any listening ear because it deserves to be heard. Your little one should not be forgotten nor should the magnitude of your loss. I created this organization to honor my mother and all the other mother's across the globe who have experienced such loss and devastation. Know that your emptiness does not make you empty. This is a platform to recognize your love, and for you to feel loved in return. My hope is that your pain one day be turned into power.
-Linda Pruitt
