Poem 81

The sun warms my aching mind
Torn up over the life that has passed me by
A year of wonder, a year of pain
A year of not knowing if I’ll be the same
As once I was, just 12 months ago
As once I was when you made me whole.

The sun warms my healing heart
Reminding me that all things scar
They make us stronger, they make us stand tall
They show us that we recover when we fall
Down upon the worst of luck but, with love
I will always make it up.

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One year on

It has been one year since the worst day of my life: the day that honestly changed my life completely.

I wish I could say that I knew I was better for it but, in all honesty, I imagine that my baby is with me every day. I look at what I’m doing and think of how different my life would be right now if that heartbeat was still going.

In the year since my missed miscarriage, I have:

  • Been diagnosed with depression
  • Had grief counselling
  • Self harmed for the first time
  • Undergone CBT
  • Had a PCOS (polycystic ovaries syndrome) diagnosis confirmed
  • Suffered from stress so badly I wasn’t eating.
  • Been diagnosed as prediabetes.

It has been one hell of a year. However, in that time I have also:

  • Become an auntie
  • Seen 5 friends/family members get married
  • Seen friends become parents
  • Made lots of new friends, including some who will definitely be forever friends
  • Performed music live again
  • Completed two charity swim events, raising £1000.
  • Rebuilt my relationship with my sister
  • Opened up about my problems to my family.

That last point may not seem that important because I open up on here but, in person, I keep my problems very much to myself. I have become much better at knowing that it is ok to show weakness and need to get support from people. This has partly helped rebuild my relationship with my sister. That and her supportiveness about the miscarriage all while she was pregnant herself. She has kept me as involved as I want in my nephew’s life, even giving me permission to come round and cuddle him whenevers I want because he is the thing that is guard to make my face light up again.

This year has caused an incredible transformation. Do I wish it had never happened? Of course. But I also recognise that I cannot change what has passed. If I let myself try, I will go insane. I remind myself to be thankful for the things that I do have and hope that everything has happened for a reason.

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.

Poem 50

You opened up, revealing truths

Heard to other ears only once before

On hearing of my bodies rejection

You spoke of yours.

I cried.

My heart pained for the lost soul

Unexpected and unplanned though it was

Wishing you’d had a choice

The freedom of your own will.

How thankless it can be to be a woman

To carry a body only for the life to

Leave before the growing has truly begun

Marking you as mother of none.

A now spoken bond between two friends

Undesired but nonetheless worthy

Wanted or unwanted, the children are gone

It is never easy.

Poem 43

Substitutions.

That’s what my life has become

Overdoing the things I couldn’t do

If you’d survived.

Late nights and drinking with friends

Simple acts, so innocent,

All to substitute what I’d rather have:

You.

The night is filled with joy though

Tainted edges of regret cross my path.

I want my friends, I want my life,

But mostly,

I want you.

People for whom I am thankful

If I hadn’t miscarried, I would be having my 20 week scan around now. Instead, I have spent the last 8 weeks trying to recover and accept what has happened.

I am lucky enough to be one of those people who makes friends easily. As such, I have gotten closer to people since the miscarriage and they have become invaluable confidantes. I have started trying to see the positives in things and my friendships with these people have been the glimmer of hope emerging from this miscarriage. Thank you, all of you.

R – The epitome of support. This person will say that they are selfish but their unwavering support for me has been one of the most important things over the last couple of months. We grew close in this time for many reasons and have discovered a mutual understanding of mental health issues. This has allowed us to become support nets for each other, although they haven’t needed me to support them yet. Even when topics have gotten difficult and have the potential to trigger their own problems, they haven’t shied away. Instead, they have guided me and encouraged me when I haven’t accepted what I need, being my external Jiminy Cricket whilst the internal one is on sabbatical. Thank you for opening up to me and allowing me to open up to you without judgement or pause.

F – This person has helped without even knowing they are helping I believe. Whenever I see them, they tell me that they love my face. If ever there was a way to put an instant smile on someones face, that is it. Such an endorphin rush for something so silly. They laugh and smile with me, infectious giggling overtaking us on many an occasion. It has been vital for me to have someone around like this person as, when I am vulnerable, I react on how other people are feeling. They also saved me in a way that they don’t know. I was ready to harm myself, the day before I actually harmed myself, and they texted me. It was a random text which had no importance, apart from that it started off a conversation which stunted the urge to harm myself. There are no words to describe my thankfulness for that action.

J – I think I have found my (platonic) soulmate in J. We have such incredible respect for each other whilst both wanting to spend time together whenever feasible. There are few people I have opened up to so quickly and the same is true for them. When I start to feel bad again, I will remember that I’ve created a brilliant friendship due to the miscarriage and hold onto that with all of my strength. Love you J!

I want to make a special mention as well to M who is an old friend and therefore doesn’t fall into the above words. M accepts me for who I am, troubles and all. When I told them that I had harmed myself, they accepted it and offered support in whatever way I needed it. They didn’t appear shocked or distressed, just understanding. The act that shocked them was me revealing that I had stopped listening to music for a period of time. I’d had no desire. Music is like our spines to the both of us – without it, we crumble. I still haven’t quite got the craving I used to have for music back but it is getting there.