Julia is hosting a series of guest posts — some named and some anonymous — in honor of National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I really appreciate this series, because one thing that meant the most to me during the miscarriage of my first pregnancy was hearing the stories of others who understood my loss.
Writing about the experience and the emotions I went through was another important tool for helping me heal, and Julia has allowed me to share some of that work with you. If you'd like to read more of my parenting poetry, I have a whole book of it. Poetry of a Hobo Mama is available on Amazon (in various countries and for Kindle, which means you can download it to your computer or smartphone, too), or you can save 20% off the cover price at CreateSpace with coupon code SAP84AYJ — great idea for a holiday present for a new mama. (Just saying.)
Robin like the hope of spring
Robin like the blue of an egg, the peace of that blue filtering through me and healing
We buried you, Robin,
or maybe it was umbilical cord or placenta or blood (but let’s believe),
in the hardy mum that weathered
summer and winter, drought and flood,
one journey from East Coast to Midwest in the oppressive droopiness of summer,
and one from Midwest to West Coast in the blasting chills of winter,
and even my unmotherly indifference.
Will I one day be a Hardy Mum, Robin?
I feel more like a Bleeding Girl.
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