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Silent loss

Karen Gardner miscarried her son, Stolly, 18 weeks into her pregnancy. These are her reflections on her loss and that time.

Why don’t we tell our daughters?
Our sisters and our friends,
Of the pain inside,
We deeply hide,
This pain that never ends.

Of dreams grown thin,
That implode in,
Of lazy days gone wrong,
Of future cries,
Turned into whys,
And wheres, and whens, and sobs.

A tear of joy
Turned to a frown,
Such unexpected news.
So long had passed
From start to now.
Surely, too long to lose,

Pure joy, excitement,
Disappear,
Comprehension starts to dawn.
A new life, so full of hope and loved,
Will never see the morn.

A heartbeat, heard
Once felt inside
A picture on a screen
A nose, a face, a hand, an arm,
Now never to be seen.

Or held.
But loved.
And.
Missed.

The heart just stopped,
The spark went out,
He left so long ago.
It seems unreal,
No reasons for.
How could we not have known?

Then such a wait
An agony
Of what the days will hold
A pill, a pain, a push, a night,
And now our boy is gone.

Dark days turn into nighttimes,
Where still sleep does elude,
Yet not from cries,
Or tiny eyes,
Does sleep now leave us for.

No arms reach up,
No cries call out,
No heart beats below mine,
No future scans,
Of futures lost,
Or futures come and gone.

Why don’t we know this future,
All things that can become,
Why keep it such a secret from,
The people it can touch?

A hidden fear?
A kindness to,
The dreams within our hearts?
An ignorance,
A lack of faith
That medicine imparts.

How could we be so foolish
That this could be unknown?
Every other person we now meet,
Has been and said and done,
Walked there before where we now are,
And stepped the steps we take,
As we stride towards the future
With, unforgiving fate.

Why is this loss a secret,
We keep within our hearts,
To never speak, as we lose sleep,
And live a world apart.
Is this to be my secret,
My hidden, silent shame?
I did not bring life to this world,
A loved, loud screaming babe.

Am I at fault
So do not speak
Of this, my darkest day.
I did not choose,
To step in shoes ,
That then did walk this way.

So, why don’t we tell our daughters,
Our sisters and our friends,
Of the pain inside,
We deeply hide,
This pain that never ends?

Karen Gardner
© March 2006

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