We took our miscarried baby which had been wrapped gently in a handkerchief and placed into a container, and buried it in the cold light of dawn. We said goodbye amongst tears, shivering sweat, and a broken shovel. We marked the spot with a stone and walked back, bodies touching, loss echoing through us. In that short time we named a baby that would never be. Our bond shattered and mended tighter than before. Our lives changed forever–we had buried a child. For most around us, time went on the same…but in that cold, still light of dawn, WE would never be the same. Our surviving children woke a short time later, oblivious to the sweat on daddy’s brow, the pink in our cheeks, the tears in our eyes, and life.. marched.. on.