by Rachel Simon
No bringing you home from the hospital in your new car seat
No cuddling up with you, no feeling your heat.
No driving you around when you’re cranky and can’t sleep
No cooing, no crying, no, you’ll not make a peep.
No smiling, no crawling, no other milestones
No beach, no ocean, no together skipping stones.
No wrapping you in your blankets, no soothing your cries
No rocking you in your rocking chair, no changing your diaper, no singing lullabies.
No trimming your fine hair or your little baby nails
No Cinderella, no Snow White, no, no fairytales.
No sleeping with you in our bed, nor on my chest
No spitting up, no burping, no putting you to breast.
No kissing your soft cheeks, your tiny nose, your gorgeous face
No changing your nursery because that was meant to be your place.
No putting you in your crib, your bouncer, your swing
No running errands with you in your new baby sling.
No wearing of onesies, undershirts or dresses
No washing your small clothes, no cleaning up your messes.
No Thanksgiving, no Chanukah, and no New Year
No visiting San Diego for your grandparents, aunt and uncles to be near.
No taking you on walks, no showing you off to friends
No more filling out your baby book, to my pain is there no end?
No sitting you on my lap to put on your socks and tie your shoes
Oh g-d, I’d give anything right now to have the true baby blues.
My life has changed for the worse now that you are no longer here
No hope, no purpose, no direction, no cheer.
No, without you Shiloh, our family is just not complete
Living without you is already proving to be no easy feat.
about the poet.
Rachel Simon lost her daughter Shiloh to an umbilical cord accident in October 2008. She created a website in memory of Shiloh: In Memory of our Daughter, and maintains a blog called Our Healing Journey.