Reflections: who I was and who I am.

Over the last week I have opened up truths about the last year to a new friend. It wasn’t painful to be honest for once, it was refreshing. But something was painful.

I decided to write a short play for an event, which I did. Then I thought I should get back to the play I started writing last year. I found it and read through it again to remind myself where I needed to write more. That’s when it got painful. I threw my soul into those words and they bit me. I felt melancholy and close to tears the rest of the day, only feeling better when meeting the earlier mentioned friend.

Yesterday, I played the song I wrote almost a year ago which defines the miscarriage for me. I’ve played it a number of times but, this time, I started crying. Maybe it is just tiredness or maybe everything is feeling raw at the moment.

My husband thinks that it is the time of year. It is a year since I started writing again and I started learning to recover. Looking back on who I was then is like looking at a different person most of time time. I can sometimes see that anger though, glinting back up. I walk with my nephew and people smile at me. I don’t have that in the rest of my life.

Being a mother changes the way the world views you. Being a mother without a child changes the way you view the world.

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Poem 82

The hardest thing

Is when people don’t know.

Comments pass by

Each one a blow.

The missing mention

About motherhood

All because

Life was not good.

The jealous pangs

When people talk about

The laughter and smiles

Before forced to shout

At their beautiful gift

Present and true.

But I lost my gift.

I lost you.

Poem 78

Revelations of the life we could have had

Playtimes and snuggles at the drop of a hat.

Walking your pushchair down through the park
Protecting you so the sun won’t mark.

Watching and waiting as you slowly drop off

Into a peaceful sleep – it is never enough.

Wishing you would eat one more bite

Of the food presented in your clear sight.

Revelation: when you open your eyes and see

The smile that could have belonged to me.

Poem 75

One year ago.
One. Whole. Year.
One whole year since I first saw a faint line
And my life changed.
I’m not who I was
No longer that girl
The one with endless hope and smiles
Free from heartbreak.
Now I’m broken
And re-formed
Pieced back together, day by day, hour by hour.
Longing for that different life.
Tested and challenged;
Triumphed and defeated;
Discovering new limits and realms of me –
Destroyed?
Recovered?
Just being.

Mother without a child

All the children scream “Happy Mother’s Day”
They fawn and cuddle with delight
Presenting gifts with hushed tones
Hoping that they got it right.

Their mothers get spoilt and pampered
Enjoying a day that’s for them
Happy that their smiling faces
Are maybe behaving again.

But what of those childless mothers
How do they celebrate this day?
Always longing that they will be presented with
A card simply saying “Mummmy”

They’ve never experienced the joy of today
From the view of the mother, not child
But a mother they still are, even though
Their child passed before being alive.

On Mother’s Day we join to celebrate
Throw gifts onto our creators
But spare a thought, my dear friend
For the mums who have lost their creations.

Never met due date

Today should be a day we celebrate
A day filled with joy, and pain
A day we meet a new life
And our life has some gain
But instead today we miss all things
The beauty of new life
Sadness overwhelms
Why can’t I have that life?
A pair of lungs that screams and screams
Until comforted by me
They settle info rhythmic rasps
With synchronicity.
Your time, it was not meant to be
Unhelpful as that knowledge is
I must go on, but I will remember
Your life that was never lived.

Poem 38

Last night I dreamt such a vivid dream

When all month there have been none

I dreamt of a child as yet unconceived

A beautiful and glorious son.

Complete joy escaped from my body

As I lay on the bed with him

I embraced him close and felt the way

I’ll always feel with you.

My gift from hope, presented to me

In a smiling, doting child

A reward for recovering from all pain

And accepting all denial.

To heal is to help a damaged soul

Only then can that peace be found

Mortals, we are all fighting to keep

Courageous love close and bound.

I speak to this child and tell him tales

Of a sibling he will never meet

But there’s hope in my heart that his precious heart

Will recover me and make me complete.

Poem 26

Four weeks ago
They said you were gone
You’d stopped living, just like that
Ended, finished
No warning, no crash.

The days got harder
The days were simple
Lost in a mindscape of
What could have been
Legs frozen, no movement
I could not be free
All alone, grief overwhelmed me.

Four weeks ago
They said you were gone
My heartache’s still strong
Though acceptance has grown.
Destined to never
Grow old or grow up
Little Peter Pan
Just slightly less lost.