You would be turning eight years old today- yesterday- I’ve lost count.
Honestly, I never counted.
Twenty-eight days. Calendar tracking, it never felt important.
Do you know how improbable that it is to make a baby?
I had no idea.
—— I chose not to know.
To know you.
Over and over again.
We spent eight weeks together. And I never even began to know you.
That is until you were gone,
And all of life crumbled in my hands.
I ushered you out of me and a world that never said got to say good morning
One excruciating cramp and contraction after another
I bled that whole fall,
Like clock work, just as you were to be born
I patched the gape in my soul and body with your sister,
or are you two in the same?
It took nine months to rebuild all that I lost with you.
Stripped of a defense
raw and gaping
here I am.