Birth mother Tamara Robertson recently shared this poem she wrote after the birth of her son, which does an amazing job of capturing both the grief and beauty of her experience. Go ahead and grab a few tissues – you’re going to need them.
My Little Tough Soldier
There’s so many words I would like to say
To him, but I know he can’t understand me,
I wish he could see,
See how much love that grew,
Within myself that left something new.
I would walk a thousand miles with the pain,
If I could just see him tonight
And tomorrow, the next and gain,
Gain the happiness of which I thought I
Lost but now found,
Found myself on solid ground.
Instead of dripping like raindrops and gloomy,
Like the clouds which seemed black at
the time,
Or even rotten like an old lime.
I would give anything if I could just have
financial stability,
But I don’t have the ability.
If I would’ve kept him he’d have nights
Of starvation or go to school with no notebooks.
I wish I had what his new parents took.
I feel as though they took my happiness
But I’m proud to give them a beautiful
Child
That’s calm and not wild.
He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me,
It’s hard to bear to let him be.
But his needs are more important
Than my own,
I love the smile on his face which is shown.
Nothing is more important and precious
Than the life I gave,
And the life I need to save.
When I first saw him, his eyes were
Open, and looking right into mine,
Showing his wonderful baby soul which is
Clearly divine.
Sending waves of love through my veins,
But knew later I would have pains.
Crying in happiness as he cried his first cry,
I didn’t ask God, “Oh why?”
“Why me?”
Which later had seemed to be.
“Oh honey! Oh honey!” are my first words to him
Nothing was cold and dim.
I felt a great wave of peace and comfort –
I happiness I couldn’t explain,
The tears I couldn’t detain.
My mom was right beside me experiencing
Everything I was,
My memory is clear and not a fuzz.
But sadly, he won’t remember a thing when
He’s older,
My tough little soldier.
©2017 Tamara Robertson
