Strange that I should think of you now
All these many years gone by…
Standing in front of the mirror
Running my hands over my belly
Imagining a life formerly carried
In my once gently swelling womb...
Longing, sorrow, regret,
Flood my heart once again
For your life that was so very brief.
My heart had soared and beat
With measureless joy
At the news of your creation...
I told the world and
Any listening stranger
Of my good news.
I took delight in
My ever-growing waistline
And my swelling breasts
That would offer you
The life-giving milk...
I knew in just a few months
You would suckle life
While I held you close.
And in return,
I would draw life
From nurturing you...
I imagined who you were:
Would your eyes be dark as midnight?
Or bright blue like a summer’s day?
Would your hair be black and fine like silk?
Or flaxen and soft like downy fur?
I wondered too:
Would your skin be smooth as satin
With the freshness of a newborn babe?
Would you be fair and
Delicate like a porcelain doll?
Or would your coloring
Be dark and olive toned?
I thought:
Who would you be?
A boy or girl to
Seal my heart’s desire?
What would your
Personality be like?
Your hands so delicate and small
Sculpted by a Master Artist
Yet strong in their grip
Would wrap around my fingers
While you wrapped
Yourself around my heart…
Would you have the trademark
Dimpled chin and cheeks
Made more evident with laughter?
And would you suck your thumb
Drawing your own comfort
When you cried?
My heart soared as
I imagined your life and our future.
I dreamed, planned, and prepared
For your arrival in our lives…
But your heartbeat only
Resonated with mine for
A short while,
And you never drew a breath
This side of eternity...
For I would not carry
You to term,
Your heartbeat
No longer evident.
I would not hold you
Close to my breast...
The surgical room did not
Deliver your life that day
Into my waiting arms
And longing heart,
But instead delivered
A devastating blow of death…
And still I wonder:
All these many years gone by
What would you have been like?
Sometimes when I hear
The laughter of children
On the playground,
The cry of a baby’s hunger,
Or the plaintive remarks of
A little one calling out “Mama,”
I turn suddenly in response.
And then I remember again:
These cries are not for me.
And I wonder about you again...
Now these many years past
When my womb
Can no longer give life,
I’m left feeling
The barrenness of heart and soul
And a profound grief
Once again…
And then I realize:
Your heart still beats
With mine.
(By: Melanie Boutiette © 4/5/05. Reflections on losing my child, on lost motherhood, and unrealized desires. Dedicated to all my mother friends who know the loss of a child: Jacquelyne, Bobbi, Marisa, Susan, Julie, Lynn, Sheryl, Mary, Kris, Mary Jane, Linsey, Jessica, Missie, Debi, Laurie, Suzy, Dana, Mary Lynn, Joumana, Tommye, Amber, Helen, Hope...and many others who have experienced this grief.)