I wanted you to find me worthy. Knew
the night of conception that you were a son.
I waited, not patiently, for your arrival.
I did not like being pregnant. There was no glow.
My belly grew stripes, hips spread, to make room for you
my perky breasts tore through my seventeen year old skin.
Not for years after your perfect birth, would I be
able to look in a mirror without revulsion.
Two weeks before your delivery I was done with you
but I didn’t know that. I tried bumpy rides, gulped cod liver oil
determined I was, to free myself of the blossoming burden
The day you were born my blood pressure spiked
your blood and my blood too much for my
parched heart to bear. They broke my water
or was it yours? Reached inside me with a hook, tore
a hole. Ready or not, here you come.
You turned sideways, perhaps, looking in another direction
you changed your mind too. They say babies know
in-utero if they are wanted. Oh how that sad truth
breaks my heart open to the joy of feeling today.
Moments before they planned to cut you from inside me
you turned back. Looked down at how far you would have
to fall to meet me and agreed. Out you swam in a river
of blood, wet and wrinkled, already an old man.
The doctor was surprised when I asked to see the cord.
My legs still strapped in stirrups, he lifted the
the purple snake vein, I touched it gently.
The warm line between your life and mine, severed
thousands of years before that day.
Scrunched eyes squinting against the light
you cried out! I could not answer you.
I knew when the nurse placed you in the cradle
of my arms that I was dead. Some time long before
you were born I died.
You were four months old the first time I really saw you.
I took a pill for pain. Something lifted. A heavy presence
stepped aside and there you were.
A bundle, cradled in my arms, I rocked
back and forth, I stared. Brown eyes wide
looked out of a face so sweet it made me cry.
Hello, I whispered, I am here.
Then the magic pill wore off. The weight
of the world returned heavier than before. I tried,
I searched and stole and sold myself, wanting desperately
to live the way I was supposed to. I stayed for you.
Never to have you again.