A very dear and very brilliant woman I know lost her little boy at around the same gestational age as I lost Caleb. She wrote an incredible poem about it that brought memories just flooding back, and I wanted to share it (with her permission) with anyone reading this.
Can you see us?
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By Vanessa at Navigating Through Silence
Can you see me
Curled up in a fetal position
uncontrollable guttural cries
that come from so deep within
few of us know such crevices even exist.
When we saw you
When we spied on you
thanks to the technology that liberated and confined all of us
us - our family
We learned you loved that position
We watched you punch and kick
when the tech tried to unfurl you
from the fetal position
that you knew so well
but you refused
we called you stubborn, like your dad.
We saw you
But you never saw us.
Can you see us now?
See the people who made you from love
Who created the little you
and loved you from the moment
you presented yourself
as a mere hormone
via a pink line
We made you
and we love you
Can you see our pain?
How we ache everyday that you are no longer here
that every where there are reminders of the you
even though you no longer exist
outside of your hearts, our minds,
You were a piece of us.
The first true piece of us.
An amalgamation of your mother and father
And we couldn't wait to watch them transform
Can you hear us now?
I used to hear your heart beat.
Every morning and every night.
Your father could hear it.
But sometimes you preferred when it was just me.
Our special moment
my spying on you
You with little space to retreat.
It was truly the most beautiful sound
Such a strong sound,
the doctors said,
as they assured me you were right where you should be.
Could you hear us before you left?
Could you hear our voices?
If so I hope you heard our laughs
The sound of my heartbeat,
did it lull you to sleep?
Would you recognize it,
if you heard it now?
If you can see us,
and you can hear us,
you hold a precious, precious gift,
and I wish it was through a two way lens
So that we could see you
that you made it alright
That there's no pain anymore
That there's peace where are you are
and that you've come to call it home.
I feel so hollow without you.
But if you can see me,
and you can hear me,
I know that you can also feel me.
When you feel me
You know that without you
Such a vital piece of me is gone.
Which is why you hear the guttural sobs
and see the constant embraces between your father and I
that leave me weak in the knees
is because I can no longer feel you.
The next time you look at us,
The next time you touch us,
I hope to feel the warmth of your little hands radiate from within
that you will always
and fill me with your warmth.