A Different Kind of Pain
By Found the Words
Note: This poem was written by a sister who had suffered a miscarriage.
So many moments passed where I wouldn't take the time to think about you inside of me, your little heart beating, your little hands forming. The time it took to absorb the shock of your existence was stolen away by the time it is now taking to grasp your departure my beautiful baby boy...
To only have you in my arms, to hold you close and tell you 'Mama loves you.' To hush away your cries and fulfil your needs, what I wouldn't give. I sit up at night and cry for you my beautiful baby boy. I spend my days thinking of the brief time we shared together, a time where you graced my inner being with your remarkable presence. I remind myself, over and over, I have to be patient, I have to persevere, I have to, it is my only way back to you my beautiful baby boy...
It is so difficult at times, I ask myself if you knew all along. In all the ultra sounds, in all the minutes I stared at you in awe, while you moved around and gave me a little show on screen, did you know, did you always know, my beautiful baby boy...
The profound difference you have made in my life, you were here and gone in the blink of an eye. Yet your impact will forever grow, because my faith in Allah tells me that you are safe and content while you do what babies do, my beautiful baby boy...
While you live a painless life, without any fear, amongst the angels, the Prophets, amongst Allah the One Who Willed your Creation, Alhumdulillah, Alhumdulillah, Alhumdulillah. As you rejoice in the Gardens beneath which rivers flow, remember that I anticipate our reunion, an Eternity of sweet kisses, warm cuddles, and soft embraces, while I whisper 'Mama loves you,' Ibrahim, my beautiful baby boy...
The Almighty Allah says,
"When a servant thinks of Me, I am near.
When he invokes Me, I am with him.
If he reflects on Me in secret, I reply in secret,
And if he acknowledges Me in an assembly,
I acknowledge him in a far superior assembly."
- Prophet Muhammad (SAW), as reptd by Abu Huraira