I posted this on the TTC after a Loss board, but I thought it might be fitting to share here, too. So, to preface, I generally try not to sit around writing depressing poetry, so please forgive me. However, I'm a middle school English teacher, and an activity I've done w/ my kids includes reading a couple of poems about something significant & something terribly insignificant happening at the same time, inspired by Emily Dickinson. So, even though I've done this same activity for the past 4 years, I decided to write a new poem myself. I think writing this poem helped me realize I'm not "fine"; this loss is still with me, especially now.
I'm distracted by your sparkles--
the ones on your headband
facing me a I lie on the table,
feet in stirrups,
for a routine check.
They look me in the eye
as you won't
transfixed by the ultrasound screen.
"There's something unusual," you say
as you head out the door
to fetch someone
to confirm what you already know.
He turns the screen way from me,
this miracle-maker that I've never met,
so even if I wanted to see,
I stare at your headband--
the sparkly brooch
nestled in your bleached hair--
curious about your need to shine
in this clinical place
where everyone wears maroon
and new age music
calms desperate nerves.
As the doctor says, "I'm sorry.
There's nothing there,"
I think about my little girl--
Gone before she ever had a chance
to wear a sparkly headband, too.