Poem 84

A broken face

Once full of dreams

Glints with memories of what could have been

If futures had altered

And paths foreseen

The shadows of the world, within.

I see the path

That calls to you

Whispering and dragging, pulling you to

The way that life

Is meant to be lived

Full of smiles, truths, and wonderment.

I beckon you

One day to see

What you deserve; you deserve to be free.

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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.

Poem 83

Parallel lives, parallel worlds

Looking left and right at all that could be

Seeing the joy, seeing the sadness

Seeing the heartbreak bestowed on me

Now that you’re gone, returned to the ground

Now that you’re gone…

…I fear I’ll be found.

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 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.

Poem 80

Remember me
When you look in your mind
Remember me
And then you will find
Glimpses of the person
You knew that I was
Shimmers of the person
No longer with us.
But, look closer
And then you will see
She’s there in the shadows
Hiding from me.
Biding her time
Until she’s ready to be
That brave, stronger person
That brave, stronger me.

Poem 77

One year ago

The heartbeat stopped

The screen stayed monotone

You were gone.

It stopped before

I heard it beat,

I heard it echo,

Dead, not asleep.

You were gone before

That dreadful day

The day my life changed

My faith went astray.

One year ago

How can it be

That time has passed without

You, already?

Forever here

In my senses you’ll be

My otherworldly child

In my company.

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.