I stand here Remnants of your spontaneous fetal death between my hands I hope you know I held them gently their presence cared and felt “we will find out what went wrong” I repeat to the piece of tissue you had began choosing names for
All I can imagine is the way you longed to hold your “almost” While we label and pack it for pathology my coworkers unknowingly laugh and guess what this mangled blobby mess could be
I want to tell them of the pain That surely marked your face The tears falling from amber eyes you hoped to pass down.
“I got you” I repeat to a container holding what could’ve been a persons world I am no one in the scheme of things but right now I feel like the most important person to have the chance to hold you.