We always think that our lives will be perfect,
especially when we bring a newborn child into the world
But sometimes...."God" has different plans for us...
Sometimes God gives us an angel
and doesn't tell us. Until afterwards.
It changes our lives forever
"The baby has died"
The words no one can say.
Half truths.Turning away. Avoiding eyes.
And pain becomes so powerful
That it pushes everything else far away.
So far away.
Were there ever good feelings?
Where is joy? Eager anticipation? Smiles?
Excitement? Pleasure? Most of all...
Where is love?
You feel nothing but pain.
Pain does go away. It uses itself up.
After its harsh, tormenting , and constant
Battering of self and soul,
Pain slowly stops. With cost, of course.
For feeling always costs.
And emptiness remains.
Sometimes the pain returns as part of the price of life.
But never with such intensity.
The memories of pain begin,
Yet are less intense.
Within the emptiness
The soul feels a different kind of loss
Before beginning its long task of repair and loneliness.
It seeks to find some warmth
Where harsh and constant pain once lived.
For emptiness is cold.
Yet life with its strong pull to keep on living
In the middle of wanting to die
Keeps the soul alive,
Urges the spirit to heal,
Tries to make sense out of nonsense;
Peace out of pain; and love out of loss.
Somehow the memories grow from pain
Into pictures of pretending
How this little life would have grown.
And become. And shared. And laughed. And cried
And been a part of you,
Rather than apart from you.
The memories picture grows with time.
It begins to have a sense of comfort.
A sense of love. A sense of peace.
The emptiness of soul and the loneliness of self
Are lessoned by a sense of warmth and love
That conquers the sometimes returning pain and sadness
Life comes back together
although arranged quite differently.
It is stronger, It is more firm even though held
With moments of sad lonliness
And knowing emptiness.
Yet able to continue. Able to continue living.
Able to know the memories of death,
To know the memories of broken hope.
To be able to say:
"I have felt such bitter pain.
I have cried tears that would not stop.
I have wanted to stop living
Only to stop hurting."
Somehow the miracle of life
Still exists within death.
And I still continue to live
Perhaps to believe in love...
As I am able to say:
"My baby has died
