The heartbreak of losing our second baby in less than three months is still terribly raw.
It happened so quickly…
On the morning of New Year’s Day, I was enjoying time with friends and family in the beautiful Texas hill country, and by the afternoon, I was lightly spotting, and something in me knew the worst had happened.
By 7 p.m., my husband and I were receiving the gut-wrenching news from an urgent care doctor that our baby’s heart wasn’t beating.
Below is a poem I wrote on Sunday…my first step in what I know will be a long road of grieving, one I expect will endure, on some level, all my life.
God bless you all, and may each of us hold our loved ones close. I’ll be back later with a related post I’m currently writing titled “Comfort in Coincidences – Part II (A Story I Never Thought I’d Write)”.
A blob of ink
Is all you need
To kindle a story to life.
A dip of the nib,
A spark of the mind,
And the words take the hand into their vision.
To a writer’s eyes,
A stark white page
Is all you need
To behold a 3-D world.
The fingers twitch for a pencil, then switch on the light.
Once the Muse has whispered,
You must give chase,
And pursue her teasing tale.
To a writer’s heart,
An unborn child
Is the dawn of a precious story.
It’s Chapter One,
A promise aglow,
With adventure,
With beauty,
With love.
Its blood is ink.
Its body blank pages.
Its mother its author…
Or is she?
She aches to write the story,
To tell it straight from start to finish,
To pour her heart onto every line and dot and squiggle.
But she cannot,
For books are bound nicely
In three solid acts –
Beginning,
And middle,
And end.
There are ups and downs
And twists and turns,
But in the end, the sun’s always rising.
The unborn child is not a book,
And sometimes, sunset never leaves it.
Sometimes the writer must –
Yes, she must –
Let go of the pen,
Say goodbye to the page,
And let the Muse that is God call it home.
“In the garden of memory, in the palace of dreams…that is where you and I shall meet.”
ALICE THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS
“Perhaps they are not the stars in the sky, but rather openings where our loved ones shine down to let us know they are happy.”
UNKNOWN
“This is not goodbye, my darling, this is a thank you. Thank you for coming into my life and giving me joy.”
NICHOLAS SPARKS