The Blue Room, Lynette O'Sullivan

The Blue Room
by Lynette O'Sullivan

We wait
to be told
what we already know,
no heartbeat
but mine and yours
in this room with the blue walls.

This is the colour of Grief-
it flows from the silence
to pour itself at my feet.
I will use it to paint the days to come.

There is a knock
The doctor enters
She seems impatient
Death cannot be undone
She has no power here
She is gone

There is nothing to do now
but gather up the emptiness and leave.
Already I know
you are filling the gap -
you will not look back.
Only I will return night after night,
to the room with the blue walls,
in search of what I lack.
I will sit in this chair,
my hands stained blue,
cut to the bone,
listening to the voices whisper,
"You are not alone
not alone
alone..."

:::

about this piece.
In Lynette's words, "After finding out our baby had died during a routine scan we were shown to a room with blue walls to wait for the doctor. It was to be my first experience of how lonely and isolating a miscarriage can be. My maternity notes were taken from me, we were ushered away from the main part of the ward and were quite literally shown the back door when we left. I soon realized that my grief unnerved people and they much preferred me to keep it hidden away behind a closed door – the blue room."

about the poet.
Lynette is a stay-at-home mum to three beautiful children. She describes her journey, "I lost my first baby at nine weeks gestation in 1998 - a twin to my eldest daughter. I was devastated and never imagined it could happen again. Sadly I went on to have four further miscarriages and fell out of step with time and place. I know now that there is no going back to the way things were, I am forever changed, and I'm beginning to find some good in the new. I keep a haphazard blog at Little Grains of Sand."