NaPoWriMo #11: good grief

I know, I know--another poem about loss. What can I say? Working through grief is a good thing, and I'm still working.


Eight Faces of Loss

I wear the first
as I pull my eyes from an ultrasound screen
look my obstetrician in the eye
then tell my children
our baby has gone back to heaven
I tell them it is okay to cry
while I hold back my own tears.

I wear the second
as I buckle seatbelts
pull side door closed
stand outside our minivan
tears streaming, cell phone in hand
to break the news to my husband.

I wear the third
as I wait
wait for the drugs to work
wait for my cervix to ripen
wait for labor to begin
wait to see the child
I will only hold once.

I wear the fourth
as I come home to an empty house
my husband in Atlanta on business
my children with my in-laws
and finally
I fall apart.

I wear the fifth
as I drive my children home
from grandma’s house
tell them they had a brother
and his name was Daniel.

I wear the sixth
every time I see a friend
who is still pregnant
and walk away
without speaking.

I wear the seventh
as I turn inward with everything
that has already been said and felt
because saying it a thousand times
feeling it every moment of every day
will never be enough.

I wear the eighth
as I realize though I lost my child
I never lost faith
as I see grief and joy coexist
in the same second
as I learn I can navigate this place
for which I have no map.