Saturday, December 1, 2012



My baby boy,

I wear a necklace with your name on it now. It has a ruby bead for your birthstone. It is red, and it makes me think of the way you were "born." As sorrowful as that makes me, I like that it is a ruby, because it reminds me of the pierced heart of Mary. 

Soon, we'll be upon the 6th month after you were born. It doesn't feel like that long to me. As I watch my friend H's belly grow, I know you would have been just that big in my womb, and I long for you there. Instead, your poor mother is just fat. I miss you so. 

Just now, I had a thought that you must see me from heaven, and beg me to rejoice that you are with the Lord. I can't picture what you look like anymore. Maybe it would be too painful, and God is sparing me that pain. Darling boy, I do rejoice that you are with the Lord. I know that is the goal in being a mother anyway. 

You, who never arrived,
like ephemeral words,
I remember you.

Yet there is so little
to remember
that I am left

desperately trying to salvage
legitimate thoughts of you
which makes me feel crazed.

Don't let me 
go crazy, darling boy;
remind me that

"the counsel of the Lord
belongs to the faithful;"
I refuse to give

anything but Fiat
unto Him
who hath done great things for me.

I love you, darling boy. 

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