Five and a half months
Almost half a year
Aren’t I over it yet?
Why am I still crying?
Why don’t I want to go out and play
With loving family, and old friends?
Who just don’t understand
They don’t see that
My soul is still cracked
My heart’s still rubble on the floor
My arms still ache for the sweet weight
Of my daughter cradled close
The stretch marks have faded to a shiny tan
Never knew I’d miss those purple stripes
My belly’s soft, not taunt with child
But still I keep on missing her
And life still seems too harsh, too long
To go without giving kisses to my girl
Wondering who she would have been
Don’t call her my angel while all yours thrive
She was my angel as she kicked me
Her death didn’t mean sainthood
Not for her, she was already my perfect girl
And certainly not for me, in my anger, in my spite
It was just an interruption
A separation of mother and child
Don’t tell me about your baby
Growing well, growing up
Ill ask as often as I can
But the health and sparkling eyes of your darling
Just make me sadder still.
Don’t tell me how to feel, or how to act, or think.
How dare you
Don’t presume to understand
Because until you shake with labor
As your world is destroyed
There is no imaging the devastation.
Of a mother torn.
Don’t tell she’s better off, or that I’m so young.
Don’t bring God into this.
He stood by, and watched it happen.
Its said he has a plan, well, I guess he does
But his plan ruined me, and spoiled my love for all things.
The God of mercy, the God of love
How well he knows how to
Bring a woman-too-happy to her pained knees
Destroy the hopes and smash the dreams
Leave them behind when he takes their whole families.
It’s all his plan.
Well, for now, he’ll have to drag me along.
Still, my heart is sore and overflowing
Don’t tell me time will heal my misery
Because time is meaningless numbers at best
Worst, it’s distance from the happiest I ever was.
Every day is just another that I’ve lost with her.
When I wake in the morning
Still I expect my hand to rest on the curve of her head
Or her too sleep down the hall.
Every morning, for the first few seconds
I am still mommy, to a living child.
Memory rushes in, to snatch her away again.
Still I miss my girl, though half a year has passed.
It’s just another part you don’t understand,
That I’m reliving the week after her birth
Over and over again.
The calendar pages have turned
The trees are as plainly bare, as your disapproval for me
But to me It’s still only been a day or two, since she was taken from my arms.
Kissed her good-bye on the brow
Then lost her all over again.
So yes my heart is still broken
And no, it won’t ever heal
She’s my baby girl still
Don’t talk to me of another
Because she was my first
First love, though soon crushed, burns brightest
And she’s still my baby
No matter if I later have a dozen more, healthy babies
She’ll still be my baby
Still longing for the sight of those blue eyes
I never did get to see
She was gone too soon
The first contractions of labor, she’d wiggled and kicked
Protesting the eviction from her most comfy spot
But then she settled down
Only squirming during contractions and in their aftermath
It went on and on, and the hours morphed to days
Never did we get there though
By the time they laid her on my chest
She’d already slipped away
But still I dream of her opening them for me.
*Just something I wrote last night/this morning. Not sure what to do with it now, heh.