Hushed tones from all the medics while the family embraced,
Gazing upon their perfect child who knew not how to cry
While whispering tenderly and softly not a hello but a goodbye.
They pushed her through the labour suite and out the other side,
With nothing but a memory box which said that nature lied.
She saw the other mothers nursing lusty babies at their chests,
And sobbed as she was given tablets to take away her swollen breasts
Back at home there is no chaos, no muslin cloths lie on the floor,
Just a steady stream of flowers and stunned cards pushed through the door,
And there upon the sofa weeping, two loving parents sit,
Wondering how to miss their child eternally and how to muster up true grit.
The phone begins to quieten now as life returns for others,
Leaving them in a lonely new club reserved for bereft fathers and mothers.
The days bring unwanted initiations, the first times of each event,
"Do you have any children?", "we're having a baby!" does the pain ever, ever relent?
But there is hope amongst the sadness, and light beneath the shade,
Some people stay the course and of their grief are not afraid,
They come around for coffee, they speak the baby's name,
In memory he lives on, nine months were not in vain
Darker days become gentler months but tears will always be spilled,
For she will always look back with the saddest eyes at a life so unfulfilled
I know she will make it through, I know because she is me,
And the boy stitched inside her heart is my darling Freddie Bean.
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