<html><head><meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html charset=us-ascii"></head><body style="word-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; -webkit-line-break: after-white-space;" class=""><div class="">Their Ages</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""><i style="font-size: 14px;" class="">A miscarriage is a natural and common event. All told, probably more women have lost a child from this world than haven't. Most don't mention it, and they go on from day to day as if it hadn't happened, so people imagine a woman in this situation never really knew or loved what she had.</i></div><div class=""><i style="font-size: 14px;" class="">But ask her sometime: how old would your child be now? And she'll know.</i></div><div class=""><i style="font-size: 14px;" class="">Barbara Kingsolver, Animal Dreams</i></div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">You grew up with three</div><div class="">Angel brothers and sisters.</div><div class="">My only child, I sought</div><div class="">To reassure me, you that</div><div class="">You were not alone.</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">Nathan, Leah and Lily </div><div class="">I named them. </div><div class="">Today Nathan would be 44,</div><div class="">Leah, 35 and Lily soon-to-be 30. </div><div class="">All three were lost in an unwanted</div><div class="">Gush of blood and pain, that sadly,</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">Even your birth and good life</div><div class="">Cannot mute. </div><div class="">I kept them alive </div><div class="">In my heart and yours,</div><div class="">Though their visage remained</div><div class="">Invisible. You grew</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">Before my eyes, beautiful,</div><div class="">Carnal, and complete. You grew </div><div class="">Surrounded by angels,</div><div class="">All that they might have been. </div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">Losing what might have been </div><div class="">Is loss, too. Invisible</div><div class="">Like a quiet disease. </div><div class="">A future frustrated or denied</div><div class="">Can fester in a heart,</div><div class="">Can rot a psyche</div><div class="">Unless mourned</div><div class="">For all its unmoored dreams.</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class="">So I named my babies,</div><div class="">Grieved my angels. I gave</div><div class="">Their memory to you</div><div class="">To walk with you in</div><div class="">The loneliness that is Life.</div><div class="">I kept them alive and</div><div class="">I always know their ages.</div><div class=""><br class=""></div><div class=""><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>- Rebecca del Rio</div><div class=""><br class=""></div></body></html>