Sam

I am not necessarily desirous to send bad news out onto the wavelengths. But I find that if I don't talk about a lost child, it seems less like he was real. I wrote the following poem two weeks ago. We lost/had Samuel Nielsen two days ago.

Chances

I suppose numbers are easy, simple, clear,

a seemingly accurate measure of something, anything:

your intelligence, your appearance, your worth.

But I have been, and remain evermore skeptical of their truth.

Statistically, only 1 in 10,000 babies conceived have

Trisomy 13--

3 number 13 chromosomes in the cells--

as if that defines, measures

what happened to Annie's body,

as if it tells how she looked, and moved,

how I felt when she was born, dead.

How is it possible 1 in 10,000 was us?

Statistically,only 1 in 100 babies conceived have

Triploidy--

3 of each of the 23 chromosomes,

69 instead of 46 in the cells

1 in 10,000 are born live.

0 live past 10 months of age.

0 known connection between Triploidy and Trisomy

So, how is it possible that 1 in 100 was us?

What are the chances?

Where is the number that describes the likelihood

of losing 2 babies this way?

What are the chances

that this baby will live long enough

that there will be 2 graves side by side?

Or, will this baby be gone in 1 month, 1 week, or 1 day.

Where is the mathematician, the statistician

who could calculate the probability

that I would feel this

heavy, sickening, chocking, ache

again?

Too improbable to be accidental

Too random to be random.

Numbers, like me, can't answer or define this one.

But, I seem to feel that Someone can.

Someone who knows not only what this would do,

but why I should face it once more.

Someone who not merely numbers his children

like the sands of the sea,

But knows each one.

Already I have carried this baby

for 12 weeks

Perhaps someone could figure what the chances are that

I will carry my child one week more.

But no one can measure how this small number of

weeks, and days, and minutes with my child

will affect every other day of my life.

It will be measureless, numberless,

unquantifiable.