The next poem was written after I found my son.  I call it FOUND.

 

May thirtieth two thousand and three,

what a promising day I believed it would be.

Over cyber space the news would arrive,

by 10:45 I knew he was no longer alive.

 

In shock I sat, not a sound could I glean,

as I read the words that appeared on the screen.

Heart pounding, mind racing, I read it again,

time stopped as I struggled to comprehend.

 

I was repelled by the news, this I could not abide,

I ran gasping for air as I screamed and I cried...

My baby has died, my baby has died!!

 

All the dreams and hopes that once kept me sane,

have regressed into madness, into unspeakable pain

For my son is lost with no hope I will see,

he is lost to death, to what never can be.

 

They snatched him at birth,

that's when he was taken away,

not once in my arms

did I feel him lay.

 

I was never to mourn all those years ago,

now that I grieve, I want all to know...

I'm still a mother, just like others you see

although mothering my son was not meant to be.

 

I was made to deny his existence to all,

now I sing his praise while I hold myself tall.

'You need time to heal', I hear people say

but I'll carry this pain till my last dying day.

 

I hearken back to when we once walked this coast,

he was growing inside me, just hidden to most.

On the same shore I stand with the sand at my feet,

in the wind broken promises of when we would meet.

 

The roar of the surf,

my sobs it does hide,

I can't understand

Why my baby has died, why my baby has died.

 

The oceans expanse shows me that I am small,

in the great scheme of life this means nothing at all.

No change can I make to the results of this day,

nor to the fact he was given away.

 

My wisdom has come too late for rewriting,

now feelings of hopelessness I find myself fighting.

I will swear by these words, this pledge I do make...

Never again will I deny or forsake!

 

I searched and I found, I found and I lost,

all this has come at such a high cost.

To lose a child is unspeakable pain,

to lose the same twice is hard to explain.

 

My memory will hold him each say I draw breath,

I denied him in life; I will not do so in death.

I could fill the Atlantic with tears that I've cried,

now that I know my baby has died, my baby has died.

© Written by Denise Marconi Leitch

After finding my son Michael Joseph Woll

Lost to adoption:  Dec. 23, 1969

Lost to death:       May 26, 1988

Laid to rest:          May 30, 1988

Found:                 May 30, 2003