Shh...it's a secret.

We meet in secret rendevouz all over the place.
The only way we know each other is the sadness in each other's face.
We are the mothers that suffer still with who most have forgotten:
our tiny little babies with fingers and toes that each numbered 10.

Today we had a meeting in an anonymous flea market booth.
I paused to see the baby boy rattle and little pillow for his first lost tooth.
A tear welled up and I gasped to breathe and to my side she drew.
She simply said "I know what you have been through".

This is one example of the small chance meetings
when we stand with each other and make sure we each keep on believing
that our children aren't gone; they simply went home
and that in our grief, tears, anger, and sadness we do not stand alone.

Each meeting makes me smile then brings me right back down again
because another mother knows the pain that I live daily in.
I'm not alone in holding his urn and wishing he was here.
I'm not alone in wishing it was my baby I was holding near.