Please don't....

Please don't tell me that you understand, when you have no idea. When you haven't lost a baby. Don't tell me you can understand what it is like to have to call around town to find a place to bury your child and actually have to have the words " my baby" come out of your mouth when the director asks who you are looking to bury.
Please don't tell me what it's like to see a baby on the ultrasound screen and realize there's no movement... to hear the words "I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat" ringing in your ears. That all of the hopes and dreams that you once had have gone up in flames and will never, EVER, come to fruition. That you understand jumping out of bed in the middle of the night because you thought you heard a baby crying. That you dream, or have nightmares rather, of seeing your deceased babies and chasing after them as some stranger takes them away from you.... but you never catch up.... and they are gone forever.
Please don't tell me that you know what it's like to try to cut a deal with God and ask him to take you instead so that they can have a chance... that you really, truly, come to a point of being completely okay with dying if you know that your babies will be alive.
Please don't tell me that you "know" or that you "understand" what it's like when you haven't lost a child. Be so grateful that you haven't. Be jubilantly grateful. Be so thankful that there is not a missing hole in your heart that nothing and noone can fill. Be happy that people don't avoid you or just stop talking to you all together. Be glad that people don't excuse themselves from the room or quickly change the subject when you bring up your child's name... like just hearing their name means the black plague.
Tell me that you're sorry. Tell me that you're here for me. Tell me that my feelings are "understandable". But please, I beg of you... please do not tell me that you understand when you do not. You cannot.