To My Little Boo
A letter to the never born
My little boo
Where are you
Are you up above looking down
When we try to smile but want only to frown
Are you here in the breeze
That caresses me like a lover’s tease
Is that your voice I hear crying in the night
When a strange noise causes a fright
Were you there when we held hands and prayed
Over the crib wherein you would have laid
When I see the toys you should have played with
I wonder if the soul is but a myth
But my heart knows you are somewhere
Watching us wander here and there
You are in the faces of the children on the playground
You are the whippoorwill who makes a sorrowful sound
Your heartbeat is in the soughing waves
Your smile is the suns early morning rays
The softly delicate moonlight
Reminds me to maintain the fight
I can feel your tiny fingers
When a little tickle on my skin lingers
When I close my eyes
I can hear your sighs
You hold my hand when I cross the street
Scampering across on tiny feet
You giggle in my ear when the cat swats my leg
You urge compassion when homeless beg
Your tiny fingers swipe away my tears
Stroking my cheek, alleviating my fears
You are my conscience, my guiding star
Warning me when time to leave the bar
Guiding my hand upon the wheel
Keeping us safe while with reality we deal
Our friends say we’ll recover from the blow
Of losing the child we didn’t even know
They didn’t feel your presence stirring inside
Nestled in supposed safety, waiting for with us to abide
They didn’t look on in wonder during the ultrasound
As your little body grew ounce by pound
As your heartbeat went lub, dub, dub
They didn’t feel my wonder when her belly I’d rub
When I ‘d feel your tiny legs kick
When I held her hair in the mornings when she was sick
They didn’t pore over baby books searching names
They weren’t there during our night games
As we pondered possible futures for our beloved child
As we wondered if you would be meek or wild
We loved you from the moment we knew you were to exist
We love you still though in grief we subsist
We will move forward, perhaps try again
No shame, no blame, miscarriage is not a sin
But even should we have a baby at a later date
We will still love you and mourn your fate
So please, be happy and don’t cry for she and I
Just watch over us from the playpen in the sky
All my love …
Dad
We love you despite never getting to hold you
About the Creator
Andrew C McDonald
Andrew McDonald is a 911 dispatcher of 30 yrs with a B.S. in Math (1985). He served as an Army officer 1985 to 1992, honorably exiting a captain.
https://www.amazon.com/Killing-Keys-Andrew-C-McDonald-ebook/dp/B07VM843XL?ref_=ast_author_dp
Comments (2)
This was so tragic and sad. Made me very emotional!
Heartbreaking!!! Eloquently written!!!😢❤️💕