Remembering Miss Mickey Poo

Mi'kaya Denise,

When I got that paper and the words on the page staring back at me in big bold letters said, "PREGNANT!" I was terrified. Petrified was more like it. You were finally here. No longer a though of what could have been at the back of my mind; but, a real baby... growing inside of me. You, my little girl..waiting to come into the world and turn it upside down with your undeniable beauty and your momma's wit.

I have always wanted a little girl. Now, I would have been glad for a little boy, but I couldn't hide my excitement when I found out that you were a little girl. I bought all the little pink things and hid them away for the day that I could dress you in your little pink onesie and cute sunhat and we could hit the road together. Mommy and Daughter. Now, most did not want the drama that comes along with little girls but me and you... We were going to be best-est friends.

My first few months with you in my tummy were the hardest. You kept me sick as ever. I could never keep any food down. It was literally hell; however, I was secretly counting the days until I could hold you in my arms. Now, as I am looking back on the time that we spent together, I would go back and re-live every waking moment if it meant that I could have you alive and well in my tummy and I could keep you safe.

I miss you Mickey Poo... more today than I ever thought that I could. My heart aches that you are not here. I often feel cheated, robbed of my time with you. You life was over all to soon. I wanted to teach you so much. I wanted you to experience life ... but only the great parts. I wanted to shield you from everything that was wrong and unjust with the world and if I could have I would've.

Sometimes I catch myself wondering what you would have been like. I know that you already had determination and a lot of fight in you, little girlie. Would you have had your momma's quick temper and passion? Or would you have picked up Momma N's cool and calm demeanor? My love of the color pink or Momma N's Cool Blues. I think you would have had both of our insatiable loves of reading and Momma N's ability to throw down in the kitchen. But these are things that I guess that I will find out when we meet again.

I want you to know that you are not forgotten and no one could ever take your place. You are my baby girl, my first born and I miss you... dearly.

Happy 7th Birthday Mickey Poo.
Momma loves you.

Promises Made...

Yesterdays goals
dim memories.
Dark sadden eyes
blurring with tears.
Painful scars are born
love is history
Futures crumble when doubt appears

No brightly lit hope envisioned
When followed after harsh words
Hurt souls split in twain,
partitioned
Swooned by appeal-when numbness lured.
Apologies made, never bought.
Price paid turned out too costly.
Thought never known what would be wrought-

Must walk into the night softly
One wish, only to be released,
Granted-Now receive this token.
Words written in rhyme, love is deceased.
When promises made...were broken.

Admissions of a Scorpio

When you are on the road to recovery, from whatever you addiction was, the first step is admission. I was addicted to something... someone. Here are my admissions:

I loved someone.
I put someone before myself.
I made someone laugh.
I made someone smile.
I brought someone happiness...I think.
I hugged someone because I wanted.
I told someone that I loved her.
I trusted someone.
I told someone my fears ... and secrets.
I cried in front of someone.
I let someone hold me.
I let someone sing to my heart.
I did anything you wanted... because you wanted it so.
I did anything I could to make you happy.
I gave you 30 minute back rubs.
I lathered your feet with lotion and rubbed until my hands ached.
I started your day with a smile.
I ended your day with laughter.
I was there to wipe your tears, if you needed me.
I was there to keep you safe.
I was there to try and help you with it all.
I was there to be whatever you wanted/needed me to be.

And yet, you chose another over all these things..... pity.

Loss...

One sad morning almost 8 years ago to the day,
I had to witness the crossing of someone closest to me,
Our journey together had reached its end.
The river Styx was calling, beckoning for her.
Holding her close but knowing I had to let her go,
Is the hardest thing for a mother to do,
Checking her little pockets,
She needed two coins for the ride,
The ferryman wasn't a patient soul.
And there are no free rides where she was headed.
Then as fast as she came into the world,

She was gone,
Our time had come to it's close.
It didn't matter that I had journeyed from far away,
Hoping to get a last glimpse,
A last kiss or wave,
I had to let her go home,
Lurking in the shadows of the parapet,
Letting grief wash over my soul,
I had to turn away,
Couldn't watch her cross over into the
Promised Land.
Couldn't watch her be entombed in time without decay,
I had to journey on.
Never thought that I would feel like this,
Never thought I could understand loss.
I lost something that day
Something so dear and precious,
Priced more than the rarest diamonds or finest pearls.
She is priceless to me.

I finally understood loss...
It was the day I said goodbye to my daughter.

Dedicated to Little Miss Mi'Kaya Denise Whatley-Carmichael

Born: February 11, 2003 @ 4:42 AM

Mommy misses you, sweetheart!