The Essence Of Who I Am

For years I would have nightmares about my husband missing the birth of our baby 

Before I had met anyone 

I dreamed that maybe he couldn’t make it home from the military 

Maybe my phone died and the baby came to fast 

Or that I was now widowed and holding his legacy alone 

I didn’t think I could do it without him 

But something even worse happened 

I myself missed the birth of my child 

With thoughts circling about how the male doctor told me I was too small to have my baby naturally

Unconscious

I wasn’t the first or second or even third person to hold my baby

I couldn’t make sure he was treated well

Unresponsive 

The animal part of me wails at the thought 

Wants to scream and throw up 

Birth is so animalistic 

Imagine tying a birthing animal down on its back

Arms and legs restrained 

Yet still barely conscious. 

Then after they cut the baby out don’t give it to the mother right away.

Clean it themselves and wrap it up

My body trembles with grief 

My thoughts are erratic as this poem 

I want to throw up

I want to throw up the pain of what happened to me 

I’m thankful my baby is fine

But what about me

M.A.P

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