My Heart Is Raw From Grief (Therapeutic Poetry About Miscarriage)

Dear Readers,

My husband and I were pregnant for the very first time until we miscarried less than 48 hours ago. I was at 14 weeks, but the baby had already died a long time ago.

Miscarriage is frightfully common. There a lot of women out there walking wounded with holes in their hearts. Named or simply called ‘Baby’, we can never forget.

I wrote my first therapeutic poetry maybe 3 years ago at best. I can’t begin to tell you how it heals me. I use no form, no structure, no rules because I don’t know them and I don’t want to. I write as the spirit moves me, word for word, line for line, and I change nothing.

Therapeutic poetry is raw and perfect just the way it is. It’s not written to impress or be rushed off to a publisher. It’s meant to put our grief and trauma into something more tangible that can be processed more easily than all the swirling emotions inside.

The first poem I wrote yesterday evening roughly 24 hours after passing the tissue that was our weeks-old baby. It is very real, very painful; I wonder if it will always make me cry when I re-read my own words. The remaining three poems I wrote in succession barely 2 hours ago and I share them with you in the order written.

To any of you who have also miscarried: my heart breaks for your loss and possibly even multiple losses. I pray that something, anything in my creative healing process will also be balm to your soul.

To any of you who have known someone who has miscarried: may there be something, anything about my journey that helps you better understand this form of grief, that your compassionate heart may grow to help shoulder the burden of the one in pain.

I believe that vulnerably sharing our joys and sorrows has the incredible power to change the world. We are all journeymates, if only we open our eyes, our arms, and our hearts to each other.

I welcome you to comment with your own tales of tragedy and bereavement. I invite you to share these poems with anyone you think they could help. I encourage — urge — you to help me open up dialogue on the important topics of trauma and grief.

Let’s change the world.

UPDATE: Also check out my second batch of therapeutic poetry on miscarriage, Cycles of Mourning. Thank you to everyone who’s read my story, commented, or shared (over 170 shares from this website alone — I am humbled yet gratified beyond what I can say).

UPDATE: There is now a 3rd set of poems, Guilty of Being Happy While Grieving. And … ‘My Heart Is Raw From Grief’ has been shared over 250 times! Thank for your support, for me and others who have miscarried.

Today I Lost My Baby

It started at 1:00
I felt the growing moisture
between my legs

Spotting had happened before
But this felt different
More and
… Bad

I walked through the house
muttering No, please,
This can’t be happening

My pants were red
red as strawberries in summertime
as one of my favorite songs says

I felt the rising panic
No, no, NO! my mind raced
I called my husband
who left work early to come home to me

I got up from the bed
from all the towels I was half-nakedly lying on
Rushed into his arms
and sobbed

One hour became two
became twelve
When would this nightmare end?

I had no strength to sit
I just wanted to lie down
please, a little longer,
but the pain wouldn’t stop
and the flow was unending

The shock, the terror
the disbelief
How? Why?
No, no, no…

I couldn’t will it to stop
I urged the baby to stay
But I couldn’t and
it didn’t.

Another cramp of shooting pain
swaying on the toilet
hugging my husband’s arm
as I groaned and cried

More and more tissue expelled
each time more disturbing than the last
like globs of soft jello
where they don’t belong
and that were supposed to grow
hands, and feet, and
blue eyes like his dad’s

I cried harder each time
I could barely stand to wipe my own self
I was going to be sick.
This was my baby.

Baby, why didn’t you grow?
Why do you have to leave?
We want you.
Please stay.
I feel so empty without you.

I was so tired
12 hours is a long time
to bleed and bleed and bleed
and cry

We had to pull dirty towels and underwear
out of the hamper because I went through
so many
At first it was gross,
but then you stop caring

We laid down trash bags on the bed
to protect the mattress
I was bleeding so much

For the first few hours we walked
me from the bed to the bathroom
with towels as makeshift diapers
We laughed for a change.
We were tired of crying.

It was exhausting to get up so much
and I couldn’t just stay in the bathroom
It was the place of trauma and
I wanted out

We wised up and
started using pads
Then, I had to get up only about
every 15 minutes instead of 2

I worried that it was my fault
that I had done something wrong
that I hadn’t cared for you
hadn’t truly done my best

I couldn’t stop it
I tried
For whatever reason, we can’t know
but you died and had to go

If it’s my fault, I’m sorry
But I tell myself ‘it’s nature’
and I hope it’s true
Otherwise, how could I forgive myself?

Your daddy was so strong
He helped me up and down
changed me, fed me, held me
caught me when I fainted
held my hair back and
positioned the trash can

He is also sad
He joined me in the tears
You were also his baby
and he misses you

We saved some tissue specimens
not knowing what doctors may need
there’s a special glob in the fridge
that we think was you, baby
gosh, I cried so hard

it’s maybe sick, certainly sad,
but part of me wants to hold you
a red, gooey blob of baby jello
because that’s all I have

oh, my baby, how we wanted you

Growing Pains of Grief

Grief comes in all
shapes and sizes

There is not ‘more’
or ‘less’
Just different flavors
of the same loss.

Grief comes in waves
some crashing
others almost a caress

Don’t fight it
Don’t run
Float, gently
with your eyes
drinking in the sky
You won’t drown
I promise

God, Nature, The Universe
(whatever is out there)
Knows what we can handle

Both joy and sorrow
grow our hearts
if we give space
to all that we feel

I feel my growing pains

My heart is bigger
than before

Having lost more
than anyone ever should
I feel myself filled
with more love
for all I do have

And I am grateful
as I grieve

Give Me Space To Grieve

We’ve forgotten
how to cry
how to wail
how to sway
how to crumple

We’ve forgotten
how to hold
how to cling
how to hug
how to help

We must remember
it’s never ‘over’
certainly not in 24 hours
or even a week
or a whole year

Give me space
to weep, to laugh
to use whatever words
angry, sad, or ‘crazy’
to try to explain my grief
in all its many facets

Open your heart
let me crawl in
feel my aches
hear my spinning thoughts

Let me share my trauma
in any graphic detail
Let me make it real
knowing that you, too,
have a heart large enough
to handle this burden

Give me space
to be as unpredictable
as my grief

If I want to laugh
tell me a funny joke
If I want to cry
ask me how I’m doing

If I want to sit with grief
in the trenches for a while
let me talk and question
and wonder what if

Don’t tell me I’m wrong
Don’t show me you’re worried
Don’t try to encourage me
to feel anything other than
all that is there

It’s all real, It’s all right
It will all pass in due time
with the coming of the tide

Let me be raw
Let me be vulnerable
I don’t want to hide from you

Show me your strength
Show me you have embraced
your own pain
So I know you can hold mine, too

Give me safe space
to tell my story

Look me in the eye
as tears stain my cheeks

I am not ashamed

Hold my hand
in flurry and in silence

Be my angel
in human skin
Love and Light

Wrapped In Periwinkle Blue

I held my baby this morning
wrapped in periwinkle blue

I sat and rocked my baby
in the wee morning hours
as the first gray light of dawn
cracked through the darkness

I curled my body around my baby
hugged close to my womb
where it belonged
where it had been so recently

I wanted to put my baby back
back inside where it was safe
back inside the hole I now feel
back, oh my baby … come back

I clung to my baby
with one tense arm
the other holding the kleenex
as I silently sobbed
body wracked with agony

I read my baby a story
a funny Amelia Bedelia tale
Just like I would have
only this time the words choked

I had to get up
I needed water
I needed to pee
I didn’t want to leave my baby
not for a second
I set it down on the chair
and felt worried
as if it could fall off
while left alone

I stiffly picked up my baby
feeling so aged by my pain
I shuffled back to bed
so we could snuggle
as I spooned my baby

My Beloved’s arms around us
I told him what I did
I told him wrapped in my arms
was our baby
from the fridge

Our baby is dead
Probably weeks long gone
It doesn’t look like a baby
It was too young

When our baby left my body
6 months far too soon
I shuddered with horror
started to faint and vomited
all over the floor

But we saved our baby
In a plastic bowl that had
probably once brought me
egg drop soup

We put our baby in the fridge
The freezer seemed too cold

I’m glad my baby wasn’t flushed
So I could hold my baby this once
wrapped in periwinkle blue

About the author

Laura Bennett

Laura Bennett

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  • Oh Laura, I’m so sorry. Your poems are a beautiful tribute to your baby and the love between you and Kyle. May our Father pour His profound comfort into your hearts.

  • Laura, I’m writing this with tears running down my face. Your poems are beautiful, painful, meaningful and raw(from the heart) a miscarriage is something a woman should never have to go through. You are helping others who have gone through this-so they do not think that they are alone. I was(am) the Grandmother to that baby you both lost and it will ALWAYS be known as my first grandchild.

  • Oh Laura and Kyle, I’m so very sorry for your loss. Thank you for sharing your very personal grief in such a beautiful way. I pray the God of all comfort will be your refuge and strength.

  • What a beautiful way to honor your child and this experience. The loss of miscarriage doesn’t bring with it much by way of comfort and I think that when you share your experiences, you open doors to that. Take care and I wish you a healthy recovery.

  • I had no idea, Laura! I’m so endlessly sorry and sad.
    Sending all my love and care. XXX

  • Laura your words are so beautiful and most of all- important. They are important to your journey, your grieving process, and they are important to us. Thank you for sharing. I wish you profound peace.

  • My dearest L&K, my sorrow could never be as deep as yours. As this was your baby. It is so for each woman who endures a miscarriage. But I wish you to know that the soul of your baby is near you both. It will be so till the right time and events fall into place. You see this child knows the events that will happen;and needs to happen in its life. For this person has many deeds to fulfill in this lifetime. So know my darlings, that this perfect soul watches over you both, till the just perfect moment comes again for you all to be made a whole family . Love always Vickie Martinez. ???

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