For Those Grieving The Baby They Lost Or Haven’t Yet Conceived

Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Month. If you're new to me, you may not know we had a stillbirth 16 years ago. It's a loss that is single-handedly responsible for shifting the way I move in the world, and over time, has created a deep, internal container, unafraid of grief and suffering.

In honor of this month, I would like to share a poem I wrote for two friends suffering, one unable to conceive a child, and the other — another child. In writing this, I transferred my own unmet longings of not having a child to hold to meet their unmet longings. I think healing does this—helps us find the broken pieces inside of us and creates something new—not something better—but something new. This new is what we're able to share with others whose suffering and brokenness can use our compassion and healing in order to find their own way, though with company, until they've found their new.

Longings...

Unfulfilled

Fingers tenderly touching my belly

Circling. Massaging.

Willing.

A bump to form.

1489 days and counting

Intimate caresses jaded

Touches not for pleasure, now for a purpose

Willing the blood flow to stay away

As cramps rise again

Month after month

The house gets quieter

As longings grow deeper

Until the muscle dragon grinds his teeth

Then tears flow

Along with blood

Basketballs, footballs, volleyballs, alike

Disappear under t-shirts in private moments

To practice positive thinking

Of cradling the softness of flesh delivered out of my uterus

Moments of fantasy bumps in the mirror

Leave an ache

As one line never becomes two

As plastic sticks are thrown away

Baby Pinks and Blues come and go

At parties in the honor of another

Blessed One. Normal One.

Someone who most deserves one

For how long will I be out of the club?

1489 days and counting…

What's healed inside of you that you have to offer others? How are you going to share it?

What could keep you from sharing It?