So small, so very dead
 Little empty one who never felt
 The dawning quiver of life
 Who only moved while still
 imprisoned in the womb
 Who never felt the sweet, strong
 Rush of air in tiny lungs.
 Who never cried
 Never felt the kiss of love
 So small, so very dead.

 We Walk To Remember by Tim and Julie Smith
 We walk to remember the steps you've taken
 And all the memories that might have been
 And we grieve the loss of you, oh child of our dreams
 And long to heal the ache that's deep within.
 We ask the Lord to lead us to trust and gratitude
 And the knowledge that we'll never be apart.
 And we'll treasure the gift and the grace of your life
 For we'll always hold you in our hearts.

 The Babysitter by Sarah Roffel
 As we stroll along
 I hear the people thinking
 Is that her child?
 If they ask,
 I'd say yes.
 Even though you are the product
 of two other people,
 I'd tell them that you are mine,
 that you look like your Daddy
 and that
 The three of us live in the big brick house
 On the corner of Cresent and Jones Streets
 And that we are rich and socially correct.
 I'd tell them all of that,
 And then I'd make sure they weren't working
 As
 I give you back to your mother's arms.

 You were like a caterpillar
 Who turned into a beautiful butterfly
 then went to Heaven to be with God.
 What's it like up there?
 Do you grow when you're in Heaven?
 Will you have birthdays?
 I'll never forget you and I love you
 As if you were alive and with us

 Newborn Baby by Olga Flanigan
 To hold my newborn baby,
 only a few minutes old,
 counting her fingers and toes;
 caressing her bald little head
 and her smooth cheeks;
 to touch her tiny little ears and run my finger down her pug little nose
 This is one of my most precious moments.
Loving her before she was ever born;
 Loving her even more after
 A child is a miracle
 That we sometimes take for granted.

 These are from a book called GONE TOO SOON: The Life and Loss of Infants and Unborn Children by Sherri Devashrayee Wittwer.

Just Those Few Weeks (A Poem On Miscarriage) by Susan Erling
 For those few weeks-
 I had you to myself.
 And that seems too short a time
 to be changed so profoundly.
 In those few weeks-
 I came to know you...
 and to love you.
 You came to trust me with your life.
 Oh, what a life I had planned for you!
 Just those few weeks-
 When I lost you.
 I lost a lifetime of hopes,
 plans, dreams, and aspirations...
 A slice of my future vanished overnights.
 Just those few weeks-
 It wasn't enought to convince others
 how special and important you were.
 How odd, a truly unique person has recently died
 and no one is mourning the passing.
 Just a mere few weeks-
 And no "normal" person would cry all night
 over a tiny, unfinished baby,
 or get depressed and withdraw day after endless day.
 No one would, so why am I?
 You were those few weeks my little one
 you darted in and out of my life too quickly.
 But it seems that's all the time you needed
 to make my life so much richer
 and give me a small glimpse of eternity.

 Stillborn by Sheila Kitzinger
 I carried you in hope,
 the long nine months of my term,
 remembered that close hour when we made you,
 often felt you kick and move
as slowly you grew within me,
 wondered what you would look like
 when your wet head emerged,
 girl or boy, and at that glad moment
 I should hear your birth cry,
 and I welcoming you
 with all you needed of warmth and food;
 we had a home waiting for you.
 After my strong labourings,
 sweat cold on my limbs,
 my small cries merging with the summer air
 you came. You did not cry.
 You did not breathe.
 We had not expected this;
 It seems your birth had no meaning,
 or had you rejected us?
 They will say that you did not live,
 register you as stillborn.
 But you lived for me all that time
 in the dark chamber of my womb,
 and when I think of you now,
 perfect in your littel death,
 I know that you are born still,
 I shall carry you with me forever,
 my child, you were always mine,
 you are mine now.

 The Bookstore by Rene Strikwerda
 "Stillborn" "When Pregnancy Fails"
 these words that shout out at me
 declaring themselves.
 These hated words drew my eyes
 to the bookshelf. I do not want to follow.
 The titles inviting me to join
 their band of broken hearts and shattered lives.
 I want to scream-I do not belong here!
 So few weeks ago I stood in this place
 with rounded belly and lofty dreams
 A joyous member of the living
 hungrily absorbing information
 on pregnancy and caring for baby.
 The knowing smiles from women
 the casual glance from belly to face
 Eyes embrace you, welcoming you
 to the secret club.
 I choose the book on grief
 and lay it on the counter like an unclean thing.
 The eyes have changed. They look away
 No longer wanting to see inside you.
They secret my purchase away
 but I am not concealed
 I have been torn open for all to see.
 As I leave the bell on the door mocks me
 Singing "Your baby is dead."

 This one is about trying to get pregnant again:
 by: Marion Cohen
 The suitcase is waiting, for some time next year.
 The suitcase is waiting, with Carter's undershirts
 size 3 months and birth announcements
 and nightgowns that button down the front.
 Yesterday I noticed that one latch had come undone
 and it had partially opened up and
The nightgowns were spilling out,
 The suitcase is waiting, but not very patiently.

 Stillborn by Linda Kay
 Stillborn,
 I am not sure that I understand.
 Is it a babe who is born
 In the hush of a morning's breath
 Before the birds begin to sing?
 No. This is not stillborn, though
 We would like it to be.
 Is it a babe who is born so quiet,
 So still, that the angels hush
 Their rustling wings to hear
 If she will not draw a tiny breath?
 Perhaps. This is very close, but surely,
 it means more.
 Stillborn,
 Born, still in the arms of God.
 Stillborn,
 Born, still in the full knowledge of God's love and power,
 His glory and grace.
 Born still to us, but alive to God!
 Surely this is stillborn:
 No death, but life eternal,
 No sorrow, but everlasting peace,
 No separation, but
 communion forever
 With God!
 Yes, Now I understand,
 Stillborn...

 To Glenda by Ora Pate Stewart
 Small as a jewel box is your little casket,
 And you, as my smallest jewel,
 Are treasured up to God within it.
 I did not give you willingly,
 Nor did he snatch you from me.
 I rather think the choosing was your own.
 Or, perhaps we three had planned together
 In some other world,
 That you would come and make this hasty call,
 Then hurry on.
 That you might light the lanterns on the way
 So I could find the footing.
 But I have forgotten. I think you, too,
 forgot for one brief day-
 But God remembered;
 And then you left me.
 I took comfort in the little clothes
I made so tenderly.
 The little petticoat, the dress,
 The dainty lace,
 The little bonnet
 That frames your tiny face.
 Your eyes are closed,
 And mine are dimmed with tears.
 But maybe you can see with better eyes
 And know I love you.
 All the dreams we dreamed together,
 While you were one with me-
 these can wait.
 I do not count them wasted,
 Nor the drops of fresh warm milk
 That fall unbidden from my aching breasts,
 Like beads of pearl unstrung about your neck,
 And caught by your fixed fingers.
 These one day
Will be distilled as manna.
 This milk that you never tasted
 Will satiate your soul,
 And life will be fulfilled.
 Go then, my little jewel,
 Go back to God.
Tell him I feel no bitterness at all.
With my own hands I offer you.
 I have a treasure laid up in Heaven.
 and where my treasure lies,
 My heart will follow.
 you are my surety laid up with God.
 And I will come to you.
 I will. I will.
 *******************************************
 Here are a  link to another infant loss poem page.
**********************************************
 Some one liners...
 "To lose a baby must mean that heaven needs another angel"
 One I believed was:
 "I felt that I had let my baby down and I felt like I should apologize to him for not being a good enough mother to even get him to this Earth."
 "Not in our arms, but in our hearts and Heaven forever"
 "To honor the children, Who live in our hearts And in Heaven"
 "Playing In God's Garden"
 **********************************************
 "Not in our Arms, but in our Hearts and Heaven forever."

 Angels or back to My page.