Another Loss Poem

I’ve had a sad couple of days lately for a variety of reasons and I have a lot of posts building in my head, but not enough time lately to share them. Read this quote today and really liked it: “Loss makes artists of us all as we weave new patterns in the fabric of our lives.” ~Greta W. Crosby. My good friend had a miscarriage this weekend and it just feels really unfair somehow—I know it isn’t a logical thought process, but I feel like “didn’t I learn enough from my own experiences to spare anyone else in our group from having to learn them too? Wasn’t my own sadness enough?” Of course, that isn’t really how life works and this isn’t about me at all. I don’t really remember having “it’s not fair” thoughts about Noah—more of thoughts like, “I guess it was my turn” and things like that—but with this I feel as if it’s just not fair. I also keep remembering all the “aftermath” thought processes and the semi-irrational thoughts and the self-blame and the general wondering and rehashing and the having to cross the dates off in the calendar (I’d written ahead until about 25 weeks and each day in my journal I’d have to cross out what I’d written–knowing that it had been written there in innocence, naivety, hope, and promise) and I am just feeling so sick that someone I know and care about has to do all that stuff too.

I read this poem yesterday and thought of her:

Our Baby

by Teri Stuckman

An empty space where life once stirred

My eyes were not yet seeing

Where once my heartbeat shared a tone

with a small and fragile being

So scarely formed yet still a life

A dream, a hope, a promise

Our plans were changed to now include

This new life thrust upon us

Then just as quickly as it came

Our dreams were gone away

The deepest pain I’ve ever felt

Our baby died today

With footprints left upon our hearts

She gently took her leave

We’re left with nothing but regret

And only time to grieve

there was no service to be held

No mourning time required

No songs of longing and despair

No words to be inspired

We’re simply told to bear the pain

‘It’s nature’s way’ they say

I can’t forget our baby moved

inside me yesterday

And with each word of sorrow

my teardrops fall like rain

The anger and resentment

are mixed with guilt and pain

I look to heaven for a sign

to help search out a course

Where love can teach acceptance

and eliminate remorse

My body will accept the truth

that now our baby’s gone

But in our hearts our Angel

everlastingly lives on!


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