She held her newborn daughter in her arms.
Tiny, delicate, pink, precious, amazing, perfect.
Dead.

They had just met! How could this be?
She thinks back to the moment she found out it was a girl.
The possible names she and her husband considered,
How she would examine and caress her ever growing belly,
Eager to meet the little person who was growing within.

What kind of person would have her daughter been like?
What would have her voice, tantrums, and laughter have sounded like?
What would have been her first word?
What would have been her favorite toys, songs, and activities?
This she will never know.

She held her newborn daughter in her arms.
Beautiful, pure, lovely, light, innocent, soft.
Dead.
She isn’t ready to have her leave this embrace,
She holds her a bit longer.

She sees a dove flying as she walks out the hospital,
That little piece of herself is gone,
Will she ever be whole again?

~Raul Felix

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