In memory of Bugaboo

Today is the day that only I remember. Two years ago today is the day that my first baby might have been born.

Usually when I talk about my first baby, I am talking about Spud. Indeed, Spud is my first born baby.

Bugaboo is the baby that never got to be born. Bugaboo is the first baby for whom I had hopes and dreams. The baby that never got another name, but remains Bugaboo forever. The baby that lived inside of me for three short months and then moved on.

I am very blessed with the children I have, and I have no wish to change the way things happened, but today is a day that I remember Bugaboo.

As I look at my two living children, I am reminded of a poem that I read a long time ago.

A different child,
People notice there's a special glow around you.
You grow surrounded by love, never doubting you are wanted;
Only look at the pride and joy in your mother and father's eyes.
And if sometimes, Between the smiles, There's a trace of tears,
One day you'll understand.
You'll understand there was once another child, a different child
Who was in their hopes and dreams.
That child will never outgrow the baby clothes.
That child will never keep them up at night.
In fact, that child will never be any trouble at all.
Except sometimes, in a silent moment,
When mother and father miss so much that different child.
May hope and love wrap you warmly and may you learn the lesson forever
How infinitely precious, how infinitely fragile is this life on earth.
One day, as a young man or woman, you may see another mother's tears
Another father's silent grief
Then you, and you alone will understand and offer the greatest comfort.
When all hope seems lost, you will tell them with great compassion,
"I know how you feel.I'm only here Because my mother tried again."