I wanted so much more for you, my sweet little baby.
I wanted to change your diapers, not my life.
I wanted to nurse you, not my grief.
I wanted to dress you up, not bury you down.
I wanted to hear the sounds of you crying for me at night,
and not my own sounds of crying for you,
my innocent, misconceived baby.
I wanted to see you grow, not the grass upon the grave.
I wanted to see you asleep in the crib, not in the casket.
I wanted to give you life, not death.
I wanted to show you off, not alone go on.
I wanted to comb your fuzzy hair, not save a lock of it.
I wanted to pick up after you, not put down my dreams for you.
I wanted to hold you in my arms, not this doll.
I wanted to walk you late at night, not my fears.
I wanted so much for you, my newly born, newly gone - child.
I wanted so much more
I wanted so much
I wanted
I wanted you.
Me as I scatter her ashes into the Ocean. The worst thing a mother would ever have to do.
