Miscarried Love
(I can't explain it...why or how this came to me...well, I can in one word...God.......)
For: E.R.J.
You stop…
Not wanting to get in the car
(Wishing you could stop time)
Not wanting to go for you are then admitting
This is reality and you have to say goodbye
So close—
Then so fast
Gone
You think about the holidays,
The kisses,
The sweet handprints.
You think about those first steps and
That recognizing smile
You think about the sweet distinct smell
And those middle of the night feedings
You think about holding your heart—
Your world—
In your arms
Grasping your aching abdomen,
“If I don’t go, it’s not real, they can’t take my baby!”
Tears flowing.
You ache to hear the persistent cries
To clean muddy footprints off the freshly mopped floors
Or to admire in frustration a mural on the wall.
The doctor comes in
Compassionate but
No matter how many times he’s done this
He will never understand the rush of emotions in the moment he says,
“I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat."
Or
"I’m sorry, you’ve miscarried.”
No one quite understand
That even if you were 5 weeks
You were already in love.
Your world had already changed.
You were a mother, now
A childless mother
Without even a grave to visit
Without even the world to mourn with you.
Empty---is the only feeling you have
Maybe some misplaced guilt wrapped in the question “why”
But Empty overshadows it all.
L eaving---
Leaving your heart in some biohazard container
When your arms should be full.
Empty.
Lost.
Shattered.
Empty.
No one misses your baby like you.
No one felt the bond
The love
The dreams
Like you did.
There's nothing anyone can do or say
There’s not even a way for you to express how you feel
All that’s left is an empty womb
And
A full heart of miscarried love.
For: E.R.J.
You stop…
Not wanting to get in the car
(Wishing you could stop time)
Not wanting to go for you are then admitting
This is reality and you have to say goodbye
So close—
Then so fast
Gone
You think about the holidays,
The kisses,
The sweet handprints.
You think about those first steps and
That recognizing smile
You think about the sweet distinct smell
And those middle of the night feedings
You think about holding your heart—
Your world—
In your arms
Grasping your aching abdomen,
“If I don’t go, it’s not real, they can’t take my baby!”
Tears flowing.
You ache to hear the persistent cries
To clean muddy footprints off the freshly mopped floors
Or to admire in frustration a mural on the wall.
The doctor comes in
Compassionate but
No matter how many times he’s done this
He will never understand the rush of emotions in the moment he says,
“I’m sorry, there’s no heartbeat."
Or
"I’m sorry, you’ve miscarried.”
No one quite understand
That even if you were 5 weeks
You were already in love.
Your world had already changed.
You were a mother, now
A childless mother
Without even a grave to visit
Without even the world to mourn with you.
Empty---is the only feeling you have
Maybe some misplaced guilt wrapped in the question “why”
But Empty overshadows it all.
Leaving your heart in some biohazard container
When your arms should be full.
Empty.
Lost.
Shattered.
Empty.
No one misses your baby like you.
No one felt the bond
The love
The dreams
Like you did.
There's nothing anyone can do or say
There’s not even a way for you to express how you feel
All that’s left is an empty womb
And
A full heart of miscarried love.
Comments
Thank you for writing and posting this. It honors my two babies - Reagan and Joss - so much.
I love you!