This week there were many poems to read that surrounded the topics of menstruation, menopause, miscarriages, and abortionsโall events that surround a womanโs body. The one that I kind of want to talk about is the miscarriage, because it is a distinctly female loss that a mother or soon-to-be-mother feels, it cannot be so profoundly understood through any other lens. It can be sympathized with, but unless youโve gone through it you can only imagine the change a loss like that can do to you. The narrator was repeating their babyโs possible names and grieving the life they never had, wondering who they might have come out looking like, and honestly thatโs heartbreaking.
Grief from the loss of a loved one you grew up with is rough, but to never get the chance to get to know them is another kind of tragedy. My grandfather recently passed and I found myself thinking about how I didnโt get to know him as I am now, I mostly just have memories from growing up with him but I wonโt get to share a lot of things with him now that Iโm older. The grief the mother is experiencing is arguably worse because the loss was directly from her body, she could physically feel it happening and nothing can prepare you for that. You could feel the desperation in the lines of the poem, how she wanted more information about the baby, even the smallest details, to give her some sort of solace. That connection that motherhood provides is so special, but can also cause such pain.
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