My baby girl, our future was to be
ever so bright and very happy.
I loved you from the moment I took that test
and I knew you were there, my little guest.
I did everything doctors said I should
and I was told everything was going good.
At 15 weeks I was allowed
to hear your heart beat – gosh it was loud!
Very soon I started to feel
you moving around, and that made it real.
Gentle tappings from your little feet,
from then I counted the days ’til we’d meet.
At every scan they said you were perfect,
and that is the word, I came to expect.
You refused to show us if you were a boy or girl,
hard as they tried you wouldn’t let your legs unfurl.
Little did I know I wouldn’t have long to wait,
or that hearing you were a girl wouldn’t be so great,
for a week later I stopped feeling those little feet
and on the ultrasound there was no heartbeat.
The rest of that day is a total blur,
I asked again if you were a him, or her.
The doctor couldn’t tell, but he told me
that when I gave birth I would get to see.
I was given a tablet and that night sent home,
though I couldn’t bring myself to be alone.
The next few days were a flurry of faces,
getting things sorted and breaking in places.
My heart had shattered into a million pieces,
I spent my time wondering if the pain ever ceases.
And then it was time,
I had to face natures crime.
I had to deliver you, my beautiful daughter,
my child who had been taken, purer than water.
All my life I’d pictured labour with thoughts of my child
occupying my mind to keep the pain mild.
I’d never have guessed that I would know I’d not see
a breath on your lips and feel a moment of glee.
Despite all this, from the moment I saw you,
I knew above certainty one thing was true,
that my love for you could be no stronger,
it was a mother’s love, and nothing lasts longer.
Your beautiful lips, your little nose,
your perfect fingers and your tiny toes.
I spent hours just taking them in,
my face plastered with a ridiculous grin.
For although you were born sleeping,
and I knew I should be weeping,
I was just so proud of you, my little girl,
I knew you would never grow a curl,
or look at me with a beautiful smile,
you’d been in my world only a little while,
but you’ll always be my first born child.
For though my life plans will be restyled,
and I’ll never get to push you on the swings in the park,
or protect you from the monsters that you see in the dark,
I can’t take you for walks in your new pushchair,
or even brush the tangles out of your hair,
I won’t ever take you to school,
or watch you swim your first length of the pool,
in-spite of it all, I have to admit
my life is better for having you in it.
You have made me see that when life gets tough,
you stick it out, even though it seems rough.
I can celebrate your life that should have been,
as long as I have people on which to lean.
Life will never get that bad,
I can never be as sad,
so I take each day as it comes,
I don’t make a fanfare or sound the drums.
I just aim to honour you in all I do,
I want to make you as proud of me, as I am of you.

Click here to read the full story.

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1 Comment

  1. crochetingbeautiful

     /  Monday 3rd March 2014

    that is beautiful!



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