An Ode to my baby

Today I was reading through some old e mails and came across this poem.

Its not often that I focus on the loss I experienced, his memory passes through my head on a daily basis, but usually its a subconscious thought, a thought which passes quickly.

I wanted to share this poem for all of you whom have suffered the trauma and the never ending grieving process of loosing a baby so very young.

I never got to feed you,

To cradle you in my arm

I never got to hear you

To soothe you till you calmed 

I never got to dress you 

In the outfits oh so small 

 

I never got to answer 

When ” mummy” did you call

I never got to wipe the tear 

On the first day of school

I never got comfort you 

When kids were being cruel 

 

I never got to kiss you 

As I tiptoed out your room

Because the only bed you ever had 

Was the one within my womb

I never saw the pictures 

That you painted just for me

I never saw you thinking 

Oh so much I did not see

 

I never saw you crying 

When you tripped and hurt your knee 

Or  heard you laughing hysterically 

About something on tv 

 

I never got to bake with you 

So you could lick the bowl

I never got to dig on the beach with you 

A great big huge hole 

 

I never got to bless you 

My hands upon your head 

Instead 

Tears I still do shed

 

I never got to walk you 

To meet your future wife 

My heart yearning 

That you have a happy life 

 

I never got to know 

The children you may have had 

I’m sure I would have been 

So very very glad 

 

I will never stop loving you 

Through the rest of my years 

And so all I can do now 

Is cry  my silent tears.

 

I know that G-d is holding you 

So very tight 

I know you are surrounded 

By His eternal light 

 

I know that He showers  you with love so very pure

I know that He is keeping you 

Till I can be with you once more 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY?

I knew it was in August, but it had stayed buried, until someone during a unrelated conversation reminded me, the shock, the anger at myself and the shame and guilt rushed at me, literally  taking my breath away.

Had I denied him by failing to remember him at this time of year? Can I console myself that I do in fact think of him, even subconsciously, on a daily basis and therefore am I forgiven for the unintentional lack of remembering that today is the day he was born, and  in a day and a half it will be the day he died. Does it make me a terrible mother to him that the day did not shout out to me?

16 Years old today, my son, the boy who I never met, the boy who remains a wonder and mystery to me, a shadow of a memory who’s fleeting presence in my everyday life is small comfort to what could have been.

Passing away so soon after his birth means that according to Jewish Law I do not have “Yahrzeit” a day, set aside to remember him by, a candle to be lit, prayers for his memory to be said, what I have instead is a cold, grey stone, cut in to the shape of a heart with his birth day and the name I would have given him engraved on it, given to me by the hospital approximately 8 years ago, when I made my final pilgrimage there to enable myself to have the closure I so desperately craved.

Visiting the hospital where he was transferred to, being shown around the intensive care unit, being given the notes that were taken, sitting in the “garden of dreams” all those years ago I had finally felt a nearness to my son, it had taken many years of anguish and heartbreak to both find out where he had spent his pitiful life, and where he had been buried, so much of the trauma had been blocked out, sent to the back of my brain where a lot of the memories are still hidden.

I hear my brain shouting at me, echoing words I have heard from others, “get over it, it was so long ago, you have moved on, focus of the living, focus on what you have now” so this is a message to all those who have loved and lost, and continue to love the angel, the pure soul God blessed us with, you do move on, you do focus on living, the love you have in your life, but you never forget, you can not forget, each time a friend or family member gives birth there is a raw pain, there are prayers that their baby is healthy, there is a tiny spark of jealousy.

With each birthday I allow myself time to close my eyes and think, today he would be 16, would he be doing A levels? would he be academic? Is he a happy boy? Or is he moody, and angry with the world in general as is a 16 year olds given right to be? Is he loud, musical, an actor or dancer like his sisters are? how religious is he? Does he love and value Judaism, have we taught him right from wrong?  Is he rebellious or is he laid back and happy wherever he may be? What foods would he like? What kind of clothes… the list goes on and on, if I let it, the list can overtake all other thoughts today.

If you are feeling judged right now because you lost your angel so many years ago but still feel the pain, know that you are not alone, no one can ever tell you to get over it, or move on because your can not and should not.

Never forget, never stop hurting, because it is the pain that connects you, the love that the pain brings, although so difficult is what will keep you grounded and give you the knowledge and the validation that you were once your babies mother.

I may not be obligated to light a candle, it may not mean anything in Jewish Law, but tomorrow I will light a candle, because it will comfort me, it will give meaning to my sons life and it will light up my home with its warmth, and maybe just maybe it will make me smile when I sit and look at it, smile because I know that today, he sits with God next to the Throne and is smiling back.

Lots of love

 

sara

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