Please share some thoughts about your baby and experiences. Send your poetry, articles, stories, pictures, etc. The one
stipulation for publication on this page is that you send original material (you've written it or someone you know has written it - we can't
publish a favorite poem by a famous writer.) This is YOUR forum to share your babies. Items may be printed with your name, with a pseudonym,
or with "baby's" mom (i.e. Sarah's Mom) or a "dad in California" ~ whichever you prefer, but be sure to indicate that in your e-mail. You can
post your submissions here just indicate poetry,
story or article in the subject line. Thank you. We wish you peace and healing.
LAMENT FOR BABY ZEN
You never got to
Cry even once
You never drew
You never even
Opened your eyes
Oh, my little one
Oh, my baby
Oh, my child
Arlene Lieberman 7/29/96
I believe I saw angels in the room the night I conceived,
I thought it meant God was watching over you,
But now I realize they were there to take you,
You are with them now.
prayed at least twice everyday for you to be healthy,
And for 18 weeks I felt that joy,
But it was only false hope of things never to come,
Of my dreams that would never be.
It has been 10 days since the birth and death of my daughter,
My first child, my only child, but also my hope.
It does no good to try to find reasons for why it happened,
There are no answers that could satisfy me; there is nothing rational
or acceptable about her not being here.
I feel like a shell of emptiness, there's nothing left inside,
Except for a breaking heart, and an aching for life.
Am I a failure? I feel like one, like I will never get this right,
I will never be like the blissfully ignorant that have healthy babies.
But I will try again, because I know the joy I felt for four months,
And the brief moments of love and admiration I felt when I
held my daughter for the first and last time.
I will try again because I ache to have life inside of me.
Sarah was alive inside of me, next time I will pray for life outside of me as well.
I could swear I heard angels whispering the night she was born,
They were back again, coming to take her home.
Written October 13, 1997 by Sarah's Mom
Sarah was diagnosed with polycystic kidneys
A Mother's Day Gift . . .
On Mother's Day, my husband gave me a special card that included a note from Carly, my baby girl, who left us on March 27, 1997. She had a rare
and severe chromosome abnormality (the upper arm of Chromosome #3 was deleted). I'd like to share this note with other parents who have also had
to make a difficult decision about their unborn child.
Thank you so much for carrying me around for 5 months.
You took such good care of me - eating right, exercising, planning for a wonderful birth.
I don't think I could have felt more loved.
Thank you for making what must have been a terrible decision for you.
I would not have wanted a life if I could not be raised by you.
Don't worry about me- I'm in good company here with Grandma Cochran and Great Grandma Ruiz et al.
I can still feel your love and that's what's important.
All my love to you and Dad and Koshi-dog.
Please tell my little brother or sister about me when she or he comes.
A Thought, a Wish, a Hope, a Prayer (for Robbie)
Our child came to us as a thought,
a thought that we had love to share
a thought that we would come to care
so very much for this first child.
Our child came to us with a wish,
a wish that he'd grow strong and proud,
a wish that we would be allowed
to grow with him, with this first child.
Our child came to us with a hope,
a hope that he would laugh and play
throughout his childhood, day by day,
while we watched over this first child.
Our child came to us with a prayer,
a prayer that he'd be safe and sound,
a prayer that love would soon abound
throughout our house for this first child.
Our first child left us with a thought,
a thought that life was not secure,
a thought that nothing is ever sure,
and then he was gone, and with him our thoughts.
Our first child left us with a wish,
a wish that time had been more kind,
a wish that we find peace of mind,
and then he was gone, and with him our wishes.
Our first child left us with a hope,
a hope that he was safe above,
a hope that he had known our love,
and then he was gone, and with him our hopes.
Our first child left us with a prayer,
a prayer that we remember him,
a prayer that we can start again,
and then he was gone, and with him our prayers.
Written by Patricia who wrote this a few weeks after she lost her son
(stillborn after induced labor at 27 weeks) to trisomy 18.