for Samuel – a poem

In October 21 years ago I discovered I was pregnant for the second time. Having been told years previously that we could not have children, this pregnancy felt as much a miracle as the first – every one a blessing. We were so excited. However if you have read Friend of God you will know that the pregnancy ended in miscarriage at Christmas, a couple of months later. One of the things I remember needing to know is where my baby was now, and God was quick to tell me he (I believe God showed me it was a boy) was with Him. In the midst of all the grief and pain of that time, I wrote a poem to my unborn baby, as a way of processing and verbalising my deepest sorrow.

I have never shared that poem with anyone until now.

It is still an intensely personal poem. I still love and miss both the babies who I lost – it’s a pain that will never be fully resolved until we are reunited in Heaven. However, in recognition of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, in honour of all the families out there who have also experienced miscarriage, and in remembrance of my two beloved heaven-babies, I felt that this year it is time to share. So here is my poem:

For Samuel…

You would have been a beautiful baby
I would have called you Samuel – my treasure – my son.
I would have rocked you, nursed you, held you –
given you all the love I had,
and probably more.
We would have been a family –
played together, loved together.
You would have brought joy to our lives.

But now it’s over – for this life at least.
And all the things I looked forward to, I’ll never get to do.
Like kissing your tiny features,
wiping away your tears,
making a smile light up your face
and hearing your first words.

Samuel, my love,
Letting go of you is the hardest thing I’ve ever done – and
I don’t want to.
I want you to come back to me, but that just can’t happen.

So I choose to give you to the only One
Who loves you more than I do.
He will hold you and kiss you, and you will grow up strong in His presence.
You will have peace and joy, and know no pain.
But I will miss you until the day we are reunited in Heaven,
And I will be free to love you again with no pain.

Goodnight my sweet son,
Mummy loves you xxx

(c) Rachel Yarworth, Jan 2004