Miscarriage In May
A poem, I just wrote now.
To my son, Samuel Khairuddin
Mrs. Khairuddin, you are pregnant!
Those joyous words,
Made my dreams come true,
Wanting this since I was
6 years old,
A born Mother,
Some said,
In training for 33 years.
"Don't get too excited
It's really early in the pregnancy".
Then all of a sudden,
Pain,
Disbelief,
Blind hope,
The bad news,
The tiny hope,
The blood test,
The worst result of any test.
Is this a test?
Is this a nightmare?
The joy taken away within hours.
The anger.
The rage.
The numbness.
The cries for my Mum.
My husband's desire to fix the unfixable.
The kindness of strangers.
An A&E nurse's hug and kiss on my head.
Those reaching out.
Those sharing their nightmares.
The feeling of guilt lessening.
The desire to speak out.
The desire to name the baby boy.
The desire to honour a face we
Will Not See
Until Heaven.
At least the first face
He will see
Will be Jesus'.
Our boy, who we named
Samuel
Will wait for his parents
Who
Wanted Him
So Much,
Who
Loved Him,
So Much
Who
Miss Him,
So Much.
I have a hole in my
Heart.
I keep feeling
Someone is
Missing
From my Home.
I await our reunion
In Heaven.
Where we will
Hug You
Kiss Your Head
Tell You you are
Wanted
Loved
And we will
Miss you no more
As we will be
Together Forever.
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