On the day of my first miscarriage, I returned home from the hospital, sore and sad. At my front door sat an unexpected arrangement of native flowers, sent by a woman I greatly admired. She had been through the same thing, and as I healed, I learned the many miscarriage stories of other women I know. They knew my pain, and their compassion lent a sense of community to the trauma.
This piece represents the chaotic confusion and visceral upheaval felt throughout miscarriage, and the peace and strength lent to me by the women who had walked the path before me.