I lost my first-born baby about three years ago. A girl…A beautiful girl. I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately for some reason. I was 19 when I became pregnant for the first time. My husband then boyfriend and I had gone on a road trip through the Western part of the United States. We were going to make a stop at the Grand Canyon before we headed to Washington. When we got to Arizona we stopped at a Wal-Mart and I picked up a pregnancy test. I took the test in the wally world bathroom and when my results showed up, I remember feeling extremely dizzy. When we were back on the road and I told him the news, neither of us said a word but I knew my husband wasn’t upset because he had a smile on his face the whole time.
From the moment my husband and I first spoke our spark was instant and so fast that I felt like I was on a rollercoaster ride… in a good way…a butterflies in your stomach kind of way. Like we were meant to be together. (cheesy I know… but real)
We finally made it to the Grand Canyon and I remember we were sitting together on a rock just inches away from the actual canyon watching the sunset. (you havent seen the Grand Canyon until you’ve seen it with a sunset). And he wrapped his arms around me and said its going to be ok. Watching the pink, orange and purple sky reflect in the most beautiful place on earth showed me what a blessing I had growing inside my body and I was happy. Even though she was here only for a little while, she is was still a blessing. I was lucky enough to have a few days with my beautiful angel and I couldn’t have asked for more.
It’s the most devastating experience in the world to lose a child but we have to remind ourselves that everything happens for a reason. We as mothers, and fathers come back from this experience stronger than ever. We learn to appreciate the family that we do have. My husband and I have become closer than ever because we got through it together. And I always say that we have a true angel looking after us.
I wrote this poem for my little angel. It was published in RedInk magazine.
Only In Memory Now
Sacred hands stroke my belly
blossomed with stretch marks,
A medicine man prays over my womb.
Cradled in his blessed palms
We imagine what could be…
… Making one last trip to the mid-wives’ office,
only to hear that my unborn child’s bones
have miraculously reached across her chest
and she will be able to breathe without a machine’s assistance.
She will breathe.
… Going through an unforgettable procedure
with complete strangers hovering over me with a knife at my belly,
only to hear my baby cry
while they place her precious body into my arms.
She is going to live.
Hope criss crosses around my heart that night
and when I go for my check up the next day,
that seam is ripped and my heart bleeds into the puddle of no faith
that always drips from the mid-wives’ over coats.
They do not know faith, only science.
Dark clouds slowly roam through the sky,
And I give birth to the most beautiful girl I have ever known.
She had our hair
Almond shaped and colored.
Our faces could blend into the same portrait.
She had our heart
Strong enough, to breathe just enough, to overcome scientific predictions.
In the light we watched her sleep,
and through darkness she held my hand in song:
Hush little baby don’t you cry
mammas gonna be right by your side,
and when creator comes for you
I’m gonna miss you and daddy will too.
And then he came,
and then she went.
Her spirit swam through tears and out of my arms.
It’s been said before how it’s the worst
thing for a woman to learn to love her womb in nine months
And then walk out with nothing.
We walked out with inspiration,
to live in honor of her.
To share forever with each other.
I cradle her with my thoughts
I feed her with prayer
because I was given three beautiful days with my beautiful baby.
Grand Canyon Picture site: www.ego4u.com