I miss being a mother - a poem

I miss being a mother

People are surprised when I say this

Peering into the eyes of a 14-year-old as they mutter the words of miscarried

I do though, miss caring for one younger than me.

When I talk about it, people wonder if I carried

In the barren womb that lay under my rounded belly.

It’s somewhat symbolic to me, I did have children,

Many of them actually, Myself and the toddlers and tykes 

that come and go in my short life.

I was burdened with the loss of something that carried a big part of me

Flushed down the toilet, I had to care for others and I saw myself in them

I miss my little children

I miss carrying my child, though not birthed of me

I know they were not much younger, but they were mine

I miss being a mother