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.