A Brief Hello
Fruitless labor
Pitocin-dosed
forced contractions
Tears doubled
by knowing
what’s to come
The final push
The heartbreaking
silence
She holds the baby
who will never
suckle at her breast
Tiny boy, gone
before he arrived
An empty promise
Yet, she holds him
Swaddles him
Kisses him
Strokes him
Adores him
Names him
One photo
Mom and Gabriel
Her little angel
Goodbye
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Well, after the fun with Shakespeare yesterday, I fell into memories of my mom and her telling me about “the one that got away.” Times have changed since then: Even though my mother’s baby was about six months old, she never saw her second girl child. Susan at Imaginary Garden With Read Toads, where I’ve been posting daily since the first of April, asked for a Hello or Hello/Goodbye poem, so this allowed me to put my emotions into words. This will also appear at my poetic birthing center, Poets United.
Nowadays, they take a picture, they do name the baby, they have a funeral, a burial or internment. I think it’s a healthy part of the grieving process that will come no matter what, for the mother with swollen breasts and no baby to feed. I wish my mother could have met her baby girl. May all babies be born healthy – and wanted. Peace, Amy
Sharp Little Pencil 