An Ode to my baby

Today I was reading through some old e mails and came across this poem.

Its not often that I focus on the loss I experienced, his memory passes through my head on a daily basis, but usually its a subconscious thought, a thought which passes quickly.

I wanted to share this poem for all of you whom have suffered the trauma and the never ending grieving process of loosing a baby so very young.

I never got to feed you,

To cradle you in my arm

I never got to hear you

To soothe you till you calmed 

I never got to dress you 

In the outfits oh so small 


I never got to answer 

When ” mummy” did you call

I never got to wipe the tear 

On the first day of school

I never got comfort you 

When kids were being cruel 


I never got to kiss you 

As I tiptoed out your room

Because the only bed you ever had 

Was the one within my womb

I never saw the pictures 

That you painted just for me

I never saw you thinking 

Oh so much I did not see


I never saw you crying 

When you tripped and hurt your knee 

Or  heard you laughing hysterically 

About something on tv 


I never got to bake with you 

So you could lick the bowl

I never got to dig on the beach with you 

A great big huge hole 


I never got to bless you 

My hands upon your head 


Tears I still do shed


I never got to walk you 

To meet your future wife 

My heart yearning 

That you have a happy life 


I never got to know 

The children you may have had 

I’m sure I would have been 

So very very glad 


I will never stop loving you 

Through the rest of my years 

And so all I can do now 

Is cry  my silent tears.


I know that G-d is holding you 

So very tight 

I know you are surrounded 

By His eternal light 


I know that He showers  you with love so very pure

I know that He is keeping you 

Till I can be with you once more 

A Poem she will never read

There will be times I will feel the need to write about my daughter.

This blog( in general)  will not be sad, in fact I am determined to keep it happy and jolly… though if I feel strongly about something, you will all know!!

I am blessed with 2 beautiful daughters. A 7 year old and a 17 year old (yup feeling old). My 17 year old has not lived with me for 10 years.  Over the years I have been made to feel (probably unintentionally ) that I should be “grateful” for the time I get to be with her, that I should not complain when I do not have enough time with her, that I should just smile and say no problem when I am given instructions on how to be with her.

My hope is to reach out to other “Mothers apart” and let them know they are not alone.

Poems are my way of expressing myself, so here’s one I made earlier… 

( Advert Break:::: I am available for little or no fee to write poems for any occasion, Weddings, Bar-Bat Mitzvah, Sheva Brochot, Christenings, Funerals, Wake’s, etc)


The train rumbles, as it leaves the station

Trying to calm my steadily increasing frustration

The whistle sounds, a forlorn call

I wish I could curl in to a foetal ball


The brakes hiss, and screech like they protest in pain

Trying to keep my mind sane.


Whizzing past stations to fast to keep track

A part of me wants to turn back

Heading toward someone who is  a part of my being

So why do I in pain feel like keeling


Pretending this is just how it should be

A trip once every three months for me to see

O I smile and you will see my mask

To keep it pasted on is truly a task


Be grateful is the message they sublimely send my way

You are getting this much is what they really want to say

Really? For sure? Do you know what you are implying?

My anger raises up before once again subsiding.


To them it is a trip, that we once in a while do make

To them it is just a trip for goodness sake.


For me, as those train tracks screech in protest under

I peer at the sky, why does it always look like thunder?

Taking me to her, as if a civil occasion

Pasting a smile, through me there is a sadness invasion


The same routine every single time,

Acting as if this is just oh so fine

A meal out, her watching just in case

A friend of hers may see her, constant worry on her face.


Talking as if we are all good mates

But look, is this really going to be our fate?

An awkward hug after a measly two hours

Oh how I wish I had turning back time powers


Speak to you on the phone tomorrow I hope

My heart breaking but having to cope,

Sure mummy she says with a wide smile,

Whilst running to the house to her  “mother” all the while.




Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: