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When you lose a child, experiencing grief without dignity is a myth. The description of myth as it is described by Webster is as follows: "A traditional story serving to explain some phenomenon, custom, etc; any fictitious story, person, or thing". I believe that sentence portrays the insanity of the life of a parent after the loss of their child. I doubt anyone can lose a child whether it is an embryo or their 60 year old son, and remain completely dignified. We are talking about a living part of ourselves, how could you lose that and remain dignified? Many would say "Well an embryo hadn't really began life outside of the womb, and a sixty year old had lived a full sixty years of life". Those people are the lucky ones who have never lost a child. The world doesn't stop when you lose a child, the sun still rises and sets, bills don't stop their cycle, and you are still alive expected to remain a positive influence in your daily activities. The difference is that your world has come to an abrupt stop and you find yourself at the bottom of a deep crevice with no clue as to how you are to get out.

You can pretend to have dignity, but you cannot hide from your thoughts when you are alone, or asleep as your dreams constantly remind you of the beautiful child you have lost. You convince yourself that you have conquered the feelings that accompany a loss until they make unwelcome visits at three o'clock in the morning when you are finally able to drift off to get a few hours of much needed rest. They appear when you see a commercial, hear a child's laughter, the worst for me is when I see a blond little boy with blond curls, walking with him mom, hands held securely together.

My child would be 29 in December of this year, he was five on the Easter Sunday when he drowned in a chemical waste pond. He had gone with his father, who was doing a side job at an asphalt plant for extra money, as I was three months pregnant expecting our third child. I was in the car with my two year old daughter due to the chilly wind. The site was a movable plant that made asphalt to build highways. They had dug a six foot straight sided pit to dump the hydraulic fluid, fuel, etc... My husband had run the backhoe which is the equipment necessary for the job described, therefore he was aware of the danger.

I began reading as my daughter napped thinking about the story Eric had learned in Sunday School about Jesus earlier that day. My husband came running to the car asking me if Eric had made

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