One. Would have been my parents’ first grandchild.

Two. Gabrielle. A girl.

 

Three. I didn’t tell anyone

about him until he was gone.

I thought it would be less painful for everyone.

It wasn’t.

 

Four. She would have been born in May,

my favorite month.

Five. He’d be turning 22 now,

done with college.

 

Six. Stephen.

Seven and eight. The twins—

two sacs,

no heartbeats.

 

Nine.

The number of plants in my garden.

There are always

nine.

 

To learn how to support those who have suffered reproductive losses, visit https://LifePerspectives.com or download the free Safe Place app.