The Baby That Lived


She remembers the day I was born, saying she could have had twins
But the ghosts crying in the distance brings goosebumps to her skin.
She says she so wishes she could have had another
But thankful for me, so again she could be a mother.
She said when she thinks about me she thinks about the ones that died
My brother and sister, babies who were taken by surprise.
She remembers me as the last baby to live
And as the last gift God would ever give.
And what a bittersweet gift I would be,
She said I was her little Indian Baby.
No single resemblance to the ones before or after
So I think of myself as the baby from casper.
Dad said one morning he could hear them crying, the babies that died,
I too have heard them crying along with my parents many times.
To be the baby that lived I feel so much pain,
The bittersweet baby that always reminds them of the rain.
This is what she tells me on my birthday many years later;
"I always loved you , You are the baby that lived."
She said thank you for your sunny disposition and outlook on life,
Even though in the memory of you I hear their cries from strife.
"God knew you would be the last",
She says, reminiscing of the past.
Never knowing that it would be me that would make her sick forever,
The baby that lived, sometimes I think maybe should have been never.

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