Split Between Two Worlds

visit-us1.jpg– Petronella Eates

Through my phone, I happened to glance,
When my eyes fell upon a special folder, just by chance,
A folder I had forgotten about,
The photographs it held were precious, without a doubt.

They brought back memories, so sweetly tied,
I smiled and thought to myself with pride,
From an innocent baby, how well she had grown,
Into a beautiful young girl, who could stand on her own.

And all at once I felt a sudden pain,
The pain of a woman, who would never enjoy the same.
A woman who would always wonder what had happened,
To the babe from within her; she had not forgotten.

The sweet sound of our baby saying mama, she had never heard,
Of her falling, while she took her first steps, she had never feared,
The joy of wiping her tears, she had never felt,
Held her close or by her side, never knelt.

She may never know what her baby looks like,
She may never have the chance to answer questions, at night.
She may never cradle her or comfort her in times of gloom,
She would lose out on watching her, into a beautiful woman bloom.

All she had were memories dear,
Of her turning and squirming, inside of her,
The labour and surgery that followed that fateful day,
The unbearable pain of handing her, over was the price she had to pay.

And the hope that someday our baby will understand,
Why she had to take that heartbreaking stand,
Someday she would look into her eyes, holding her hand,
And ease all the pain, imprinted in the sands of time.

No matter what happens – remember sweet child of mine,
The most difficult thing for a mother to do is to say goodbye,
And there is nothing more pure than a mother’s love,
For a better tomorrow for you, she had to set you free like a dove.

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