Baby loss poetry (Archives)

Baby loss poetry

Closeup of Miranda holding Adrian's Elephant. Miranda is wearing a pink dress and tan floppy hat (personal photo)

There is nothing wrong with ‘Dwelling’

Our grief-averse culture seems to rush us to the finish line; that place where things are just happy, and our loved ones are remembered only with smiles and upbeat feelings—But honestly, there is power in dwelling. Power I am happy to claim.

You're an absence I carry

You’re an absence I carry

Moving after my son’s death and it’s hard—although people here know he existed, he’s still an abstract concept to them, only “real” to me.⁠

Motherhood comes in so many forms

Motherhood

I am the mother whose body swelled with pregnancy.
I am the mother who dreamed and wanted and planned.
I am the mother who left my heart in a small and curtained alcove room.
I am the mother who screamed and cried and begged.

The Worst Part of Child Loss | Miranda holding Adrian's photo in the mountains of Kaua'i (Luna Kai Photography)

The Worst Part

Hearing the news was definitely the worst part. “There is no heartbeat.” It broke me. I fell. And the “worst” pieces just kept building.

Wildflowers and Adrian's Elephant

On Sunlight and Strength

I am a weed. They say I am strong, but I do not aim to be so. I don’t aim to be anything. I’m just here.

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