It hardly seems possible that a whole year has passed since I wrote THIS. But my little mermaid would be 11 today. Time passes so quickly. When I was pregnant, I had great plans to write a lullaby for her, her very own special song, and sing it to her to welcome her into the world. But I was so busy getting ready for the new arrival, I didn't have time. I thought, 'it's OK, I'll write one when she arrives.' I thought I would have all the time in the world, that when I brought her home, I would be able to sing it every night, for many years, to send her off to sleep.
When she arrived I knew there would be no singing her to sleep, no years of kissing her goodnight, that I could never take her home. I wished I had written that song, so I could welcome her...and say goodbye. Instead, I sang what I could remember of an old gaelic lullaby...and lament...late one night in the hospital, just her and I together. I didn't want anyone to hear me singing. I didn't think they'd understand. But it was something that I needed to do, the instinct was very strong.
Months later, I did write her lullaby. It's not a lament, it's the song I might have written if she had come home safe and well. But I don't have a reason to sing it very often. So I sang it tonight, and it's rough and painful, but maybe she hears it and knows it's her song. And it's here if you want to listen too.