Something I wrote to deal with my miscarriage

Dear Little One

I know not the day you came to be,

Nor the day you would’ve been with me.

I know not if you would’ve played with dolls,

Nor if you would’ve liked your bows.

I know not if you would’ve played with trucks,

Nor how good you would’ve looked in a tux.

I know not the sweet sound of your laugh,

Nor the sadness of your cries.

I know not your kind spirit,

I just know I’d want to be near it.

I know not your warm embrace,

Nor your tiny little face.

I know not the fat rolls of your arms and legs,

Nor if you would’ve liked ham and eggs.

I know not the color of your hair,

Nor if you would’ve liked the barber chair.

I know not the color of your eyes,

That I can only fantasize.

I know not of your resemblance to us,

Nor if that would even be a plus.

I know not the shade of pink of your cheek,

Nor the softness of your skin.

I know not the reason why you couldn’t stay,

Nor how to breakaway.

I know not why I miss you,

Nor why I didn’t get to meet you.

I know the sadness of your loss,

How much I can’t even get across.

I know the joy I’ve lost,

Such paths I would’ve rather not have crossed.

I know how much I’ll miss you,

All because I didn’t get to keep you.

I know how much I love you,

Even though I never got to meet you.

~NEPB

I hope some of you can relate.