When I was 18, just four months after I married my wonderful husband, we found out that I was pregnant. We were so excited, because we had wanted to start a family right away.

When I was 22 weeks and 3 days pregnant, I woke up at 4 a.m. feeling like I had to use the restroom. When I sat on the commode, I felt something that just didn't feel right. I was dilated, and the bag of waters had dropped. It hadn't burst, but it was not where it was supposed to be.

My husband was working graveyard shift, so I had to drive myself to the hospital. I was going about 105 down the highway hoping a cop would stop me and help me. But nobody was on the road. I made it to the hospital, and my husband met me there.

At 11a.m. on the dot, my son was born still. It's a moment in my life that I will never forget as long as I live. He was born on September 4, 2002. I read some of the stories on here from women who are just beginning their journey through the grieving process.

When it first happened to me, I hated when people said that time would heal it, and we would be fine eventually. I thought, How could you possibly know?

But I hope that I can offer some hope to all of you when I say that. Time really does heal it. The pain will never go away, and you will always remember. But the pain does become easier to bear.

My husband and I have been trying to become pregnant again. It's been over six years of trying now. I hope that someday we will have a baby to bless our lives.

Ladies, don't give up. Lean on each other. And remember that everyone grieves in different ways. Don't let it tear you apart. Let it pull you together.

I read a poem once in a book from the library called "trying again." May it offer some comfort to those who are ready to try again.

A Different Child

A different child
people notice
There's a special glow around you
you grow
surrounded by love
never doubting you are wanted;
all you have to do is look at the pride and joy
in your mother and father's eyes

but if sometimes
between the smiles
there is a trace of tears,
one day
you will understand

You'll understand that
there was once another child
a different child
who was in their hopes and dreams.

That child will never outgrow the baby clothes
That child will never keep them up at night.
In fact,
that child will never be any trouble at all.

Except sometimes, in a silent moment,
When mother and father miss so much
that different child
May hope and love wrap you warmly
and may you learn the lesson forever
How infinitely precious
how infinitely fragile
Is this life on Earth.

One day, as a young man or woman
You may see another mother's tears
Another father's silent grief.
And then you, and you alone
will understand
and offer the greatest comfort.

When all hope seems lost,
you will tell them
with great compassion,
"I know how you feel.
I'm only here
Because my parents tried again."