on 39th birthdays. . .
Sometimes birthdays bring up memories – ones we haven’t thought of in a long time. David and I had an early miscarriage in between Madeline and Annabelle, and the memories of that precious baby we never held still come to the surface at unusual times. Our 39th birthdays being one of those. David published this beautiful poem on Medium today and I wanted to cross it over to the blog for everyone here as well. . . -ari
to my Son, on my 39th birthday
Sometimes a body makes a terrible choice
A heart may never understand.
A womb opens too early
Or closes far too long.
You were the former.
From the moment I saw the pregnancy test
I knew you were my son,
Just as I knew your sister
Was my baby girl
Before the moment of her ultrasound.
How, I don’t know
But I found certainty
Amidst the mystery
Of birth and
But something went awry.
I don’t know
And so I don’t know you.
If you are in heaven
Born into a form
Better suited for eternity rather than earth
You are eleven,
(Are there birthdays in heaven?)
Playing heaven ball,
Climbing heaven trees,
Riding heaven bikes,
Stairway to heaven — of course.
If you’re anything like your sisters,
You’re an amazing, beautiful child,
The only sort your mom and I create!
Today is my birthday and
I’m so sorry I missed yours
I wish that I had the pleasure to know you.
And I hope that somehow, someday
Your mom read my note above, reminded me your younger sister would not exist if you had lived.
Thank you, for making room for my precious girl,
For giving of yourself, involuntarily.
You died, that she might live.
You would love her, she is hilarious,
Especially when she dances.
She would beat you in a footrace,
Because she always fakes until she has a head-start.
She can climb anything, do real pushups, is fluent in Pig Latin,
Fantastic at math and chess, wants to be a teacher.
You made the world a better place
When you made room for her.
Thank you, son.