Poems & Words

MOTHER NATURE

If we, as parents, waited nine long months for the birth of our baby girl, would you not expect us to love her? If we brought our new baby home, would you not expect us to care for her, nurture her, and adore her? Anything less would be considered abuse, wouldn't it? But what if she cries only once, and our happiest memories are of the months she lived and grew within? What if her baby blue eyes open only once, and all the pictures in her album can be counted on one hand? What happens then? What do we do when the milk comes in, and no one is here to drink it? Or we awaken for the two a.m. feeding and rush into the nursery, only to find it empty? What happens when my tummy begins to flatten, and my pregnant body returns to "normal', and we still have no little one to hold? Where are the smiles? Where is the joy? WHERE IS THE BABY? What if morning sickness suddenly becomes mourning sickness, and postpartum depression occurs in the midst of grieving for a baby child? And what if the only cries in our house, are our own? How do we explain everything nature intended to happen when a baby is born, still happens? Except the most important part! Apparently, my tummy is empty. And yet the cradle is empty, too. My mind can't comprehend this craziness. What if our love continues to grow as the weeks and months and years gradually slip away, And our precious little girl....Never....Comes home?

- Author Unknown

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THE SITTING TIME

Don't listen to the foolish unbelievers who say forget. Take up your armful of roses and remember them the flower and the fragrance. When you go home to do your sitting in the corner by the clock and sip your rosethorn tea. It will warm your face and fingers and burn the bottom of your belly. But as her gone-ness piles in white, crystal drifts, It will be the blossom of her moment the warmth on your belly, the tiny fingers unfolding, the new face you've always known, That has changed you. Take her moment and hold it as every mother does. She will always be your daughter and when the sitting time is done you'll find bitter grief could never poison the sweetness of her time.

- Joe Digman

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Sometimes love is for a moment. Sometimes love is for a lifetime. Sometimes a moment is a lifetime.

- Pamela S. Adams, The Compassionate Friends

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REMEMBERING

Go ahead and mention my child, The one that died, you know.

Don't worry about hurting me further. The depth of my pain doesn't show.

Don't worry about making me cry. I'm already crying inside.

Help me to heal by releasing The tears that I try to hide.

I'm hurt when you just keep silent, Pretending she didn't exist.

I'd rather you mention my child, Knowing that she has been missed.