Poem 72

Time heals

Time accepts

Time softens the regrets

Time

– You had none

Love conquers

Love vanquishes

Love counteracts the madness

Love

– You had all

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12 weeks on

Today marks 12.5 weeks since I found out about my missed miscarriage and 12 weeks since the physical miscarriage happened. In these 12 weeks, I have learnt more about myself than I ever wanted to know and I have become more dependent on people than I have ever been before. There have been good days and there have been bad days. Typically the good outnumber the bad but the last week or two has been particularly difficult and the balance has been off.

I wanted to write this for anyone who is struggling with a miscarriage, whether it is them or a friend/family member who has experienced it. The most important piece of information I have received is this:

You are allowed to grief. You have experienced a loss in the family. If it was someone people in the family knew about, you’d be allowed to grief: this is no different.

Those words were spoken to me by my counsellor. I have avoided going to counselling for many years but, with this, I reached the stage where I couldn’t avoid it any more. My counsellor has made me feel more validated than any other person who has tried to help me, my husband included. I am lucky enough to have a wonderful support network but, even with that network, I feel like I am failing sometimes by having such a strong reaction to the miscarriage. It is important to remember that feeling is not failing. When I’ve had moments where I am really struggling, I have told certain people whom I really trust and I get responses back like:

Well don’t be too hard on yourself. Your head’s doing whatever it needs to do.

Upon telling a friend that I am going to counselling, she said that she thought I was amazing to be tackling it full force and how much she admired me for it. It has given me that strength to keep pushing through on the bad days. I’ve learnt that there is no shame in needing to remove myself from situations that are just too much for me, even if someone else could cope. We each recover differently and that is the key thought for recovering from a miscarriage. Different people feel differently. I seem to be struggling more than other people I know who have had miscarriages but that is OK. 12 weeks on I have learnt that lesson – I hope anyone else reading this can learn it sooner.

Thank you for listening.

P.S. After 64 poems published consecutively, there may be a little break as the writing is dependent on my mood. That being said, I wrote 5 in one day the other week so maybe they will pick up again.

Poem 60

What would you think if you met me today?

Would you be sad or happy to see me?

So affected by your loss have I been that

You might not recognise this being.

My mind has been fractured, destroyed by the pain

The grief, the anger, the heartbreak

But my body only bears one scar

From when I tried to end it.

If you could see how you’re loved

And how your death has wrecked me

Maybe you wouldn’t have gone.

Your life could have saved me.

Poem 59

I feel weak for not being the version of me

Who understands and copes with what has gone wrong

The version who accepts that pain is good and that

Bottling only causes harm.

I hate that I can’t be free from these thoughts

Taking over my mind like a wraith

Digging into the trenches and

Pouring concrete to make them stay.

Breaking the thoughts is the hardest thing

Aside from surviving with your loss

I wish I could break the pain of my heart

Now that my love is lost.

Poem 55

Bump, no bump

What difference does it make

The physical manifestation of the missing piece.

That bump you hide

How I’d long to flaunt it

Presenting with pride the child within.

Embarassed by your size

Why do you fear it so?

What I would give that mine didn’t go.

Counteracting sadness

That I can’t reveal

A similar product – I’m physically healed.

Poem 51

The water laps upon the mystical shore
Swallowing the sand and rocks like prey
Beating the shells into submission before
The tide steals them far away.

I hear the crashing of the water from afar
Breaking the shore with restless wonder
The salty air cleansing my troublesome soul
Purging good and wickedness asunder.
Crash
Pull
Gentle sounds
Soothing the goodness and restoring
The failed body, internally scarred,

Forever in mourning?

Poem 49

Life is crumbling from normality

Fading into a juxtaposed state

Here and there, love and lost love

Where do I sit to know what is right?

The echoes of a life together

With now lost love which once he held

She held the hopes of all futures

One to unite, eternal vows.

Has it gone or is it hiding

Caught up in the rest of life not

Unravelling, just caught on the corner

Awaiting a hopeful verdict on true love.

Poem 47

Melancholy illuminated by candlelight
The flickering flame resonating with the unsteady mind
It dances, pirouetting like ill-shaped thoughts
Ultimately steady if not provoked.

The scent fragrances the air and
Cleanses the oversensed mind
A focus, capturing the vision from its lonely source.

Frenetic and unkempt though the mind can be
Calmed, now it is, with the lights serenity
A distraction from hellish thoughts of hurt
Entropy –

there must be balance in this heart.

Poem 46

Hard, compression against the skin

Indentation enough for this night

The feel of where the blade has been pressed

Comforts enough for a crack of light.

Unacceptable method of healing I know

But a stitch it provided, relief, hope,

Incomprehensible thought it must be

It focussed the terror in me.

Left with no scar, temporary red

No blood fell from the attempt

An alternative weapon later may provide

The next step, erosion, of the flesh outside.