A Poem for My Grieving

A Birthday Wish List
By Vickie Bacon

I wish the endless nighttime feedings were what made me groan & stupor;
I wish the baby’s diaper pail made the house smell offensively like pooper.

I wish my bottles weren’t packed away inside a box;
I wish I got to take my stroller out in the dirt and rocks.

I wish there were outings: to doctor, friends and mall;
I wish there was a door post to watch her grow so tall.

I wish I weren’t so lonely at the end of a long day;
That the sparkle of her giggles would brush it all away.

I wish I were exhausted, so weary and quite teary
From being up all night & day,
her fever makes me worry.

I wish the clothes I have for her were stained and quite outgrown;
Her wardrobe was astounding; the best I’ve ever known.

I really wish her potty chair and playpen had been used;
I got to be the one who lost and I’m not all that amused.

I sometimes wish my losses could have been given to another,
To let them know the sort of pain there is;
an agony like no other.

I’m told to count my blessings,
That it all was for the best;
Except it's really not that easy with their bodies lain to rest.

I suppose there are some things left to life and even love,
But saying things like that aren’t helpful when your children are Above.

I wish I could complain like other normal ladies;
to know their plights of motherhood would release me out of Hades.

Some would say with certainty that I’m really very lucky;
My losses are a blessing, see
Since no young ‘uns make make life yucky.

I wish for crayons on the walls,
and unkempt toys strewn down the halls;
For speedy chubby baby days of play and drool and crawls.

I wish for patty cake and peekaboo
Instead I’m left with wails and sobs and
booo hooo hooo

So when your frantic days of motherhood makes you really fret,
Stop and ponder an awful plight with which you haven’t met...

For blessed you are if on that day you heard your baby’s cry;
The anguish of a stillbirth hasn’t made you want to die.

There is no deeper silence than a baby who’s born dead;
You get to leave with arms content, while we get hearts of lead.

Yes there are those days when Calgon isn’t quite enough;
the dog’s thrown up, the mood is bleak, and new motherhood is rough.

But the reward of all that strain is the sweet & tender kiss;
The one thing we don’t get that we will always miss.

We don’t get fussy nighttimes when the baby just won’t sleep;
We get silent nurseries;
a crib without a peep.

We get no new photos or new baby teeth;
We get a few memories and a cemetery wreath.

I rocked you Oh so lovingly on the day that you were born;
I really had no clue the depths that I would mourn.

I sobbed as I sang to you alone inside our room;
I couldn't believe what happened,
that you'd left us quite so soon!

The time was very brief when I met you on that day;
how quickly it all happened,
then they snatched you clean away.

But one thing I pray that I never forget
Is how very special it was that we met.

No, there’s no greater hardship than to not have your baby;
Don’t even argue,
there isn’t a maybe!

You’ll never know just how sad and remorse,
you will find yourself feeling as you cuddle her corpse.

There is no greater robbery than saying our goodbye;
To have the world move on ahead,
while all you ask is, WHY???

And if you think hormonal after care is hard,
imagine how intense it is putting TWO beneath the sod.

Certainly all that should help you keep your focus,
that motherhood’s a blessing and complaining’s slightly bogus.

Yes, it is a very sad idea that I’ve had within my head,
I sometimes wish my mother would have known this pain instead.