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A babe with no name

My baby’s life but gone, forgotten,

A life that never will. 
My baby’s death a pain, a strain,
A heart that heaven stilled. 
Alone I feel, in solitude, 
Lost, lonely and unfulfilled. 
Always my mind will hold Him tight, 
My ghostly son, now killed.
—–
My belly’s small and youthful still
Where new life should be Him.
Inside, my heart it aches and weeps,
For a babe borne without whim.
No where was it scribed, or written
That his life should fade and dim.
Of all the earths most precious places, 
Im shamed this one wore thin.
——
A boy for sure, no doubt, my babe,
He’d have grown up big and strong.
My child whose life was craved, adored, 
Will be loved for years come long.
And when my belly’s stroked by me,
With gentle care and song,
I’ll cry no more my boy, my son,
For with me you will belong.
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Poppy

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Saturday, 2 August 2014: One Year, One Hundred and Twenty Four Days Old.

Ayla met her Poppy for the first time today, when he arrived for a visit over the long weekend.

Ayla was beside herself with exhaustion by the time we got to the airport, pooped from having severe tummy problems that prevented her from napping and tired her out to the max.

Normally when Ayla is ready for bed or just woken up she refuses to go to anyone except Hubby or I, but when she met her Poppy at the airport she reached out for him like a long lost friend.

I was really surprised, but of course I shouldn’t have been; one look at my Hubby and his dad standing side by side it was like a mirror image, just a little more “snowy” on the right!