Dramatic Delivery,

I wished for you,
For as long as I could remember.
The mirror of my elders.
The beginning of family.

So many arduous efforts.
Invasions of my body.
Until you became the seventh son.
Draining away my energy.
Clear down to my bones.

Walking the halls,
On Ivee poles.
Becoming a ghost of myself.
Taking everything,
you needed first.

I gave it so willingly.
Eager to give whatever price
It took to keep you,
Deep in my womb.

Binding, stiches,
Monitoring ever bite,
Avoiding everything,
Even the most distance sneeze,
Or cough. Neighbors. Even;
Your father.

Counting the weeks,
Deliriously happy
When your tiny bump
Finally sending out
That promising swishy sound,
thump, thump, thump.

Needles turning my veins painfully
Black , blue, purple and the tell tail yellow,
Again, and again, week, after week,
Blood out, vile tasting medications in.

They lead me about;
To their imposing offices,
Stacks of legal briefs,
And Experts telling me
What the future could be.
No chance;
That I was not going to sign,
Their liability away.
It was all on me.

What was I getting myself into?
High risk delivery,
Like some outer space world.
Meters, monitors, and straps.
Infernal beeping.
Minuscule babies full of tubes.

Dire predications,
Medical terms and charts, and
Little models
That looked more alien
Than any gift from God.

And I waited;
Aching back, swollen legs,
Pounding headaches, and
Violent seizures,
Without a whisper of warning.

Long weeks of you dancing
Against my brittle ribs,
And jumping on my bladder,
And you oblivious
To it all.

But you had to make
Such a grand entrance.
Nothing easy; feet first,
Face up. Silent Fists clenched.
Refusing to let any of us breath;
For agonizing moments.

Then you, to hushed room,
Finally wailed.
Insulted as we counted;
Fingers, toes, and wondered
At your perfection.

But for all their expert opinions,
For the catastrophic bill,
They were glad to wrap you up
And send us home.
Before my wobbly legs,
Could barely stand.

Be sure and pay on your way out.
Raise him up,
From the seat of your pants.
Don't have any questions; or sex,
For six weeks.
Good Luck, So long.
Doctors tee time is a two.

I understood a little bit of it

Hell. I felt the needles, the seedlings forthright existence.
I remember 'knowing' I was a woman only after birth.
Bravo PS.

Doctor's office.

I wrote this to put in my great grandson's baby book. They never really realize that not everyone just gets preggers by dropping their drawers. lol

Thank you, Star.