it is three years since my great grand daughter was born forever sleeping. I cannot write things when things are too close, too soon after an event. I have healed but thought you might be interested in some of the poetry I have written and the process around Jarleahs birth. She was full term and was kicking in the morning and by the time of the midwifes appointment in the afternoon her heart had stopped beating and she was gone before she was born. My PTSD kicked in big time aroundthis birth but I have processed the trauma and can now write about it.
The mother of Jarleah, my grand daughter Grace, is due to have another baby on Jarleahs birthday but they are going to take this baby two weeks early or earlier if there seems to be a problem.
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We did not hear your first cry
We waited but it wasn’t there
We did not see your faltering steps
Because you didn’t take them
We did not soothe your teething gums
Because there were no teeth
We did not see your first kindy picture
Because you did not draw it
We did not enrol you at school
Because you couldn’t start
This because you were born
without a beating heart
We do not forget you
Because you are still whanau
And you are still... forever still.
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I read this at Jarleahs funeral. We had her at home with us for three days in her forever bed.
Her tiny body was karanga into my daughters home. (A karanga is an element of cultural protocol of the Māori people of Aotearoa New Zealand. It is an exchange of calls that forms part of the pōwhiri, a Māori welcoming ceremony.) by a Kuia (an elderly maori woman) and my daughter responded to the call as she had learned to do.
Jahleah
We never saw you smile
Or the colour of your eyes
We never heard your laughter
And never heard your cries
You didn’t hear ‘I love you’
You didn’t see us weep
Your spirit left your body
And you were born asleep
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I hope this has not made anyone sad. For whanau (family) bonds were strengthened by Jarleahs birth. We have healed as a whanau.