Feigning strength, stability with others around,
“Everything’s fine”, an easy to hear sound.
But left alone, only my thoughts and doubts resound.
Sorrow and grief rising as at the loss of a child,
Every month, emotions and rage so wild,
Knowledge of the blessing, but feeling so defiled.
“We aren’t ready”, “We have plenty of time”,
But the heart yearns as if waiting is a crime,
It climbs until the time of tears is prime.
No matter the suffering, it starts all over,
Hanging on to hope as if a four leaf clover,
The possible gift outweighs the affliction, moreover,
God will give when I’m ready, one way or another.
Poetry
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This is a beautiful and emotionally raw poem. The lines that stood out to me the most were “But the heart yearns as if waiting is a crime,/It climbs until the time of tears is prime.” Thank you for sharing.
I’m only 22, but every month I would hope and hope to find out I was pregnant. I finally got a positive a bit after I wrote this poem. I was blessed to carry my child for 6 weeks until I miscarried. I read this poem after and the words don’t even begin to describe the heartache and sorrow I felt and still feel.
But there is a comfort in knowing my child is in heaven and will never have to suffer in this horrible world. I now know I can become pregnant and I have plenty of time. That brings me peace that I’ve never had before concerning this issue.