(Please note, this is a borrowed image of an embryo at the same age)
You had only 28 or 29 days of life.
Yet you had done so much.
From one cell to so many,
From microscopic to identifiable in form.
I delivered a smoothly covered kernel, that just fit into my palm.
I washed away some of the decidua, and there you were,
Floating in a small, clear sac, tightly attached to a thick, veinous placenta.
You were smaller than my thumbnail,
But glowing a pearly light color.
A spine, curled at the lower end, edged up the center of your back.
Your chin was tucked in toward your chest,
but darker spots in your face showed where once your dark eyes would shine.
Tiny thickened ends showed where your hands and feet
Would once extend out of the buds
That would someday stretch into your arms, your legs.
And your belly protruded in bright red and purple,
Where the umbilical attached
And your liver lay beneath.
A pearl of great price.
A beautiful creature.
A great loss.
Even just two weeks after the pregnancy test that told me you were coming,
I could see that you were fearfully and wonderfully made.