To Mourn the Unborn
Children is a subject I’ve covered before;
About my longing and urge for more.
I thought it was done and left behind;
But here it is, at the back of my mind.
Teasing with what I desire the most;
Haunting me just like a ghost.
The struggle was hard to understand;
To deny the family we had planned.
I was sure this wasn’t a permanent state;
The burden in fact a constant weight.
The ghost of a child that will never be ours;
My happiness this burden slowly devours.
A corner of my mind is set aside;
Where the ghost floats on the tears I’ve cried.
Lost on the water, not put to rest;
Never to lay upon my chest.
No late night cries or morning feeds;
No wearily meeting its infant needs.
Taking breaths, slow and deep;
I will never watch it fall asleep.
I will never see it grow to be;
A part of our little family.
To bond with its brother, fight and play;
To support each other come what may.
As a ghost in my head, it does not exist;
But as a part of the family, it will be missed.
Feeling so selfish looking at my son;
For greedily wanting more than one.
I love him more than words could explain;
And love will always win against pain.
But the pain is something I have to feel;
The loss of the ghost is harsh and real.
Time moves on, other families grow;
And conflict pulls me to and fro.
The battle between envy and delight;
My enemy is jealousy in this fight.
I don’t blame others, in fact I cherish;
The chance to cuddle a newborn squish.
This internal clash is my own to manage;
My friends will not be collateral damage.
Here I sit with my ghost unborn;
A loved one lost, I need to mourn.
The grieving process will help me mend;
The loss needs resolution, to ascend.
To the ghost there is something I need to share;
I will always love you and always care.
Now, to let you go I ask you please;
Close your eyes and rest in peace.
By Paul Webster
I feel your pain so know you are not alone in this.
We have 2 gorgeous girls, but my dream was always three.
We cherish what we have as do you.
I keep telling myself it is what is right and meant to be, but all the lovely news and squishes around me make me feel that little twang of jealousy.
I wish I were as good with words as you, but you’ve said it just right!