You never got to fully develop your little body.
But I can picture every detail of your perfectly formed features
As clearly as if you were before me.
You never got to wriggle and squirm in my belly.
But I can still feel you.
A hollowness inside that cannot be filled.
You never got to know my touch or arms holding you tight,
But I caress the memory of you with love,
Hugging my pillow at night, wishing it was you.
You never got to breathe and fill your tiny lungs.
But I take deep breaths to soothe the ache in my heart.
Sighing, for what should have been.
You never got to hear my voice or know me as your mother.
But I speak to you often and the person in the mirror
Wears traces of you, etched in the lines of her face and on the curve of her lips.
You never got to experience happiness, joy, or excitement.
But I lived there during the twelve weeks you were with me.
A brief interlude that was over before it could truly begin.
You never got to experience sadness, loss, or fear
But I know that if you had, I would have always
Picked you up, held you near, and comforted you.
You never got to see your potential fulfilled,
But I dream of the ‘what ifs’ and alternate realities
All the endless possibilities, never realised.
You never got to cry out loud or shed any tears,
But I have shed enough for two lifetimes.
The scar upon my soul
Is the only proof I have
That you ever even existed.
You will forever be my baby,
Never a toddler, child, teenager, or adult.
The scale of injustice tips me over the edge sometimes.
But in the end, the balance is always maintained.
For everything you never did, I have done for you.
You are gone little one, but never, ever forgotten.
By Sarah ©2022
Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Story Swap #2