The following is a poem written by my wife Rachel flowing from the pain of our recent loss. We hope it blesses and encourages and even helps your grieving process if you have suffered a Miscarriage.
Without further delay, ladies and gentlemen, my wife!
“More Time”
“I just want more time”
The first coherent sentence that emerge
From the wreckage that is my thought life
These hellish weeks
A lucid thought in such mental turmoil
A true gift
I crave clarity
But to accept this gift?
To see this sentence to its full conclusions?
That means vulnerability
And courage
Am I brave enough to process?
Do I have the courage to let myself feel?
Yes
Because I am a mother
I honor my child’s life
By acknowledging that Shalom’s
Life is worth grieving over
For my baby, I will heal
I will wrestle with this thought
“I just want more time”
10 weeks gestation
Such a medical phrase
That is all the time I had
Your daddy kissed my growing belly
I wanted your daddy to kiss your forehead
But then time was up
I sang to you
You never heard me
Because we never made it to 23 weeks
I longed to reach 23 weeks
When you could hear my voice
But then time was up
Time
To nurture
To love
To wonder over
To teach
That time was gone before I could even say good-bye
There was nothing left to do
Broken-hearted parents drove home in silence
Named you Shalom
And begged God for the peace we named you after
And I clung to the time I did have
Two memories on a blurry screen
The result of faulty man-made technology
The image of your beating heart
The image of your tiny body
There was a heartbeat
I saw it
And then it was gone
No one can tell me this isn’t a death
No one can tell me this isn’t a loss
No one can tell me I’m not a mother
Now, what do I do with my faith?
Shalom is in heaven
Theologically that should seem right
My child is not with me.
Maternally, nothing has ever felt more wrong
But I offer my shaky, bleeding heart
To a God infinitely beyond my raw emotions
Shalom will never want more time
Shalom will never year from something
Beyond a blurry image on a man-made screen
Shalom will never “feel” like Jesus isn’t there
In my humanity, I beg for more time
As a parent, I will never want
Anything less with my child
But my God asks me to wait
For the day beyond wishing and disappointment
When I won’t need to ask for more time
For now
I grieve
I wrestle
I embrace what is scary
Brokenness
Vulnerability
Asking for help
Ugly crying
I miss Shalom
But only for now
