The Box – a poem by Jude Davies

There’s a box

It’s a memory box but we don’t have many memories.

The box feels cavernous.

In the box are…

Our first pregnancy test, our second pregnancy test. Your scan picture. Another scan picture. 

And then…

A baby-grow that you never got to wear

A dummy, a bottle, never used. 

A teddy, the matching one got cremated with you.

The scatter tube from your ashes.

Your cremation certificate.

There are memories I have that can’t go in a box.

The day we found out we were expecting you – so much joy, the tears of happiness

The day I bled – so frightening, the tears of fear

The scan with a heartbeat – so much relief, the tears of relief

The second scan where we not only saw your heart beat, we heard it too – the tears of joy

The third scan where we heard those devastating words – There’s no heartbeat – the tears of raw, uncontrollable grief. 

Your birth, just us – numb with shock

Your funeral – tears of sorrow

If my tears could be captured there wouldn’t be a box big enough to hold those. 

That’s all I have of you. 14 weeks of memories and a lifetime of sorrow. 

by Jude Davies