Miscarriage, Motherhood, Poetry

Invisible Mothers

There is a place somewhere
Between letting go and
Holding on
Where she exists.

She is your neighbor
Your grocer
Your friend
Your banker
Your Sunday School teacher
Your high school classmate

She is the lady next to you
In church.

She is the invisible mother

Sometimes she’s holding the hand
Of her visible children
Sometimes her arms are deceptively empty

But both carry the weight of an invisible child

Of children



She carries on

She carries her child with her

No one sees

Because she is an invisible mother.

She is so many of us
That reaches out, that sees.
Through the darkness
The cloak
And offers her hand, her achingly empty arms to say

I see you.
I am you.
Me too.

And together, the invisible mothers
And are damn strong.

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