2023 Walk to Remember— Opening Speech
Ladies and gentlemen, on this special occasion of Pails Month, I stand before you with a heart heavy yet resilient. July 9, 2019, marks a day that shattered my world into a million pieces. I am Candice Privott, and I want to share my journey as the mother to my angel baby, Aiden Anderson Privott.
Our story begins on 2/25/2019, a day filled with joy as we discovered we were expecting our miracle baby, Aiden. The path of pregnancy, however, proved to be a delicate balance between beauty and nightmare. I soon learned that there's no safe zone in pregnancy; loss can turn the most joyous experience into a heart-wrenching reality.
I delivered my beautiful son, Aiden, on 7/10/2019, but he was sleeping. The days that followed were grueling, filled with anger, shock, disbelief, and a shaken faith. Despite delivering to one of the best hospitals in Massachusetts, my birth story was far from reassuring. From the heartbreaking news of no heartbeat to my discharge, disappointment and disgust lingered.
The pain of birthing a child who will never cry, laugh, or open his eyes is indescribable. Imagine being on a labor and delivery floor surrounded by celebration while you mourn your worst day. Returning home empty-handed, your breast milk flowing with no baby to nurse—it's a unique agony. The challenge of facing a waiting room with other pregnant women after your loss is excruciating.
For those who encounter a loss mom, choose your words wisely. Phrases like "you can have another baby" or "it was God's plan" may unintentionally deepen the wounds. The journey to conceive is often unknown and arduous. Although I stand before you as a rainbow mother my pregnancy after loss was not easy.
Our dreams for Aiden were abruptly taken away, and many nights were spent pleading for the pain to subside or to join him. The strength attributed to me is merely survival. Therapy became a refuge, and the daily routine, a battleground.
In September of 2019, I found solace in a healing circle with Propa City. Initially nervous and questioning, today I stand before you acknowledging that Propa City saved my life and organizations like the Massachusetts Center for Unexpected Infant and Child Death continue to heal me. I have created a tribe that I have named my loss sisters, united by grief, they have been my strength and reason to persevere the last four years. My family and friends, your prayers and unwavering support kept me afloat when I was ready to surrender.
In this space today, surrounded by understanding hearts, I share not only my pain but also my gratitude for the lifelines that have sustained me. Thank you for being here, for listening, and for being part of my healing journey.
-Candice Marshall