Life’s Percentages

“Life’s Percentages” was written right after losing my baby at the beginning of my second trimester of pregnancy. The grief and anger I was feeling was for the loss of my child and the dreams that accompanied her. I hope that it both comforts and inspires all women who have experienced miscarriages to see the light in the darkness.

As women we are made with the potential for unbelievable joy,
As we house the doorway for life.
But with that doorway comes the potential for unimaginable sorrow,
As we also house the entryway to death.
We tread this sharp precipice of life and death
And should the foul wind of an unbiased and sometimes cruel world blow our way
We may find ourselves stumbling down the mountainside of jagged stone.
Our bodies battered and beaten, our spirit shattered and broken.
Sometimes this fall is the result of clumsy footing as we slip on the poor choices we have made.
But sometimes our fall is the result of an undescerning breeze that cares not the merit of our character
Or the foundation of morality from which we build our house of good deeds.
It cares not what beauty and joy we may have brought to the world
Or what greatness awaits the future lives we touch.
Its mighty fist crushes our spirit house with its indifference
As it throws us down the crushing cliffs
And leaves us stunned at the bottom,
Questioning the good in this mysterious world.
Questioning the foundation of belief from which we built our spirit house.
It inspires the realization that there is no point to our human experience
That we are at the mercy of pure probability and percentages
That there is no guiding force
There is only choice and probability.
Sometimes the dice is in our favor
And sometimes it isn’t.
There is no point to this tragedy, only sorrow.
But like all broken bones, mine will mend in time
Leaving a knotted scar like the gnarled trunk of a mighty oak tree.
I will climb back up the daunting mountain of life to walk the precipice again,
Wiser to the cruel indifference of the mountain’s wind
Bracing myself for its next inescapable gust.
Respecting the sheer awesomeness of its beauty and the fine line I walk between life and death.
May I never take for granted the miracle that is life, both mine and those of my loved ones.
May I learn to focus on the light of joy potential in my womaness
And not the balancing darkness of the sorrow it can bring.
May I learn to love being a woman once again.

By Sherri Leeper

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