1
I’m a mum without a baby, like a dish without it’s spoon
I’m a book without it’s pages, or a star without it’s moon
The date is not right, you weren’t due today
Yet pregnant memories seem far away
Months should have passed before your face saw the light
Now all we do is wait & hope you can fight
I know you are small, we are asking a lot
But wishing and praying is all that we’ve got
Tubes, wires, saline drips, and that horrible smell
Alarms going off, it’s a unique type of hell
We sit at your side as the monitors
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2
bleep
Trying to keep strong, so you don’t see me weep
I should count myself lucky, I know thats what they say
But it isn’t their baby who’s been taken away
Empty is my womb, as is the bedside cot
But my heart is full, and that’s worth a lot
Its a miracles that you are here at all
You’re here and you’re perfect, just terribly small
Some Women don’t get to carry a child
Some babies are born in the war torn wild
And some little babies are born all ready to fly
Too precious for this life, they go straight to the sky
So I do count my
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blessings as we sit and wait
Entrusting these doctors and nurses and fate
And now I look back, on that time full of fear
It’s incredibly the change that takes place in a year
You’re so big and strong it’s hard to believe
It’s truly incredible what a prem can achieve
Originally published at http://www.intrepidbebe.com
A poem about being a Mother to a premature baby. To any Mum’s in the early stages of their premmie journey-both they & you, are stronger than you can ever imagine.
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Intrepid Bebe - 29 Jan 17
I’m a mum without a baby, like a dish without it’s spoon
I’m a book without it’s pages, or a star without it’s moon
The date is not right, you weren’t due today
Yet pregnant memories seem far away
Months should have passed before your face saw the light
Now all we do is wait & hope you can fight
I know you are small, we are asking a lot
But wishing and praying is all that we’ve got
Tubes, wires, saline drips, and that horrible smell
Alarms going off, it’s a unique type of hell
We sit at your side as the monitors bleep
Trying to keep strong, so you don’t see me weep
I should count myself lucky, I know thats what they say
But it isn’t their baby who’s been taken away
Empty is my womb, as is the bedside cot
But my heart is full, and that’s worth a lot
Its a miracles that you are here at all
You’re here and you’re perfect, just terribly small
Some Women don’t get to carry a child
Some babies are born in the war torn wild
And some little babies are born all ready to fly
Too precious for this life, they go straight to the sky
So I do count my blessings as we sit and wait
Entrusting these doctors and nurses and fate
And now I look back, on that time full of fear
It’s incredibly the change that takes place in a year
You’re so big and strong it’s hard to believe
It’s truly incredible what a prem can achieve
Originally published at http://www.intrepidbebe.com
A poem about being a Mother to a premature baby. To any Mum’s in the early stages of their premmie journey-both they & you, are stronger than you can ever imagine.
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Mama to one little possum, married to her favourite human. Blogging about Motherhood, Travel and Life at:
http://www.intrepidbebe.com