I've been meaning to post this poem for a long time now. Being pregnant again is full of mixed blessings. It's important to focus on the blessing itself. I feel we have worked so hard to do everything in our control to keep this baby. And if we do actually hold this baby screaming in our arms, I will be the proudest person in the world for putting so much effort into something successful. But I still think every day, about the little 8 month old, or 4 month old, that I would be caring for each day if history would have been different. The different child, the other child, my little girls, that everyone but me will forget. So I share this poem, because I will raise this baby (boy) to be the person who can relate to and comfort some mother or father who has lost a child. And who will never forget, that he has two sisters that aren't here for him to torture;-)
A Different Child
A different child,
There's a special glow around you.
Surrounded by love,
Never doubting you are wanted;
Only look at the pride and joy
In your mother and father's eyes.
And if sometimes
Between the smiles
There's a trace of tears,
There was once another child
A different child
Who was in their hopes and dreams.
That child will never outgrow the baby clothes
That child will never keep them up at night
In fact, that child will never be any trouble at all.
Except sometimes, in a silent moment,
When mother and father miss so much
That different child.
May hope and love wrap you warmly
And may you learn the lesson forever
How infinitely precious
How infinitely fragile
Is this life on earth.
One day, as a young man or woman
You may see another mother's tears
Another father's silent grief
Then you, and you alone
And offer the greatest comfort.
When all hope seems lost,
You will tell them
With great compassion,
"I know how you feel.
I'm only here
Because my mother tried again."
For Madoka Marietta Rosalie, from your mother, Pandora Diane Waldron, March 4, 1999.