Here Comes Treble: Sandy's Baby
Isabel Bradley's deeply sympathetic blend of prose and verse is dedicated to Sandy whose first child, a baby girl, was stillborn, and to all mothers who have lost a child.
Little One,
where are you now?
Tiny Baby,
whose soul sang in my womb -
Why did you leave?
where did you go?
Questions, never answered. Where was the soul of the baby she'd nurtured, crooned to, loved and longed to meet for nine long months? The baby girl who died before ever taking a breath?
That urgent ache, the desperate longing, the need, the craving to hold her daughter - sometimes it was overwhelming. If only she could find the child's soul, listen to her song just once more, know she was safe and warm somewhere, and loved...
*****
Mother - I'm here,
floating in stardust,
dancing through glory -
a sky so filled with love...
Mother - I'll return,
One day you'll hold me in your heart...
*****
Another child was born to her. A healthy boy, lusty and strong. It was an easy pregnancy. She gloried in her health, the swelling of her belly. And yet - this child was not her Little One. Precious beyond measure, healthily suckling, pulling strongly to take the milk he thrived on. But -
Little One,
Where are you now?
Her soul cried out, longing, reaching beyond the stars.
As her son grew, sometimes the pain eased. Sometimes she forgot it was there for months at a time.
But then, she'd gaze up at the Southern Cross spangling the night sky, and she'd hear, carried by starlit breezes, the sound of a song, faint and loving, somehow familiar, stirring her soul. Her eyes would ache, her heart yearn, and she'd stand and gaze at the dazzling skies...
Little One,
Why did you leave?
*****
To see the glory,
To hear the songs of suns -
Mother,
how could I stay?
One day our souls
will sing in tune...
*****
Her heart yearning, her soul diminished, the mother sought her lost daughter.
Miscarriage followed miscarriage, heartbreak followed heartbreak.
Once she thought the fluttering of life she felt was familiar, and her heart lifted. But that child, too, left her arms empty and aching.
Another son was born. Too early, but tough and fighting for his life. She crooned to him, and was afraid to touch him, afraid that he, too, would leave her bereft...
Months passed. The little boy thrived.
Her heart was eased by the happy, noisy growth of the children of her flesh.
Yet - her soul still cried out -
Why did you leave -
Where did you go?
*****
The dances of constellations,
The sighing of suns and moons and stars,
The whirling and singing of planets -
Mother -
I've seen it all ...
*****
Years later, the mother held her infant granddaughter, this precious child of her soul, safe in her arms at last. She was surrounded by a light of indescribable love, a light which resonated with the glory of suns and moons, stars and planets and the velvety-dark night skies.
Until next week… “here comes Treble!”
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