Two girls, one unsure, although I felt a she.
Only one survived, had to set the others free.
Hailee was the first to die in my arms in May.
Just as luck would have it, on a sunny Mother’s Day.
Then the third precious child conceived of love so real.
Deeply wanted, desperately needed, our hearts so full with zeal.
On a cold December’s day, her movements came to cease.
Of course I knew before they told me, our precious was deceased.
Wanted so badly to give him her, a symbol of our love.
Sobbing sadly in that cold room as her soul ascended above.
Grateful for the precious time although brief with two, thankful for the one survived, who held me together like glue.
All alone, just she and I, on this trek called life.
Struggling fiercely, pushing on, in loneliness and strife.
The one survived helped me survive although I miss the other two,
I consider myself so very blessed to have had all of you!