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- 29 Jan 17

I’m a mum without a baby, like a dish without it’s spoon

I’m a book without it’s pages, or a star without it’s moon

The date is not right, you weren’t due today

Yet pregnant memories seem far away

Months should have passed before your face saw the light

Now all we do is wait &  hope you can fight

I know you are small, we are asking a lot

But wishing and praying is all that we’ve got

Tubes, wires, saline drips, and that horrible smell

Alarms going off, it’s a unique type of hell

We sit at your side as the monitors bleep

Trying to keep strong, so you don’t see me weep

I should count myself lucky, I know thats what they say

But it isn’t their baby who’s been taken away

Empty is my womb, as is the bedside cot

But my heart is full, and that’s worth a lot

Its a miracles that you are here at all

You’re here and you’re perfect, just terribly small

Some Women don’t get to carry a child

Some babies are born in the war torn wild

And some little babies are born all ready to fly

Too precious for this life, they go straight to the sky

So I do count my blessings as we sit and wait

Entrusting these doctors and nurses and fate

And now I look back, on that time full of fear

It’s incredibly the change that takes place in a year

You’re so big and strong it’s hard to believe

It’s truly incredible what a prem can achieve

Originally published at

A poem about being a Mother to a premature baby. To any Mum’s in the early stages of their premmie journey-both they & you, are stronger than you can ever imagine.

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Intrepid Bebe

Mama to one little possum, married to her favourite human. Blogging about Motherhood, Travel and Life at:

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