Four

It was painful, but what hurt the most

was not the physical pain. ย the scraping

of my uterus

reminds me of candles

not blown on a birthday cake.

of unknown names and faces

that haunt me.

that time, I wanted it to be taken,

convinced,

university mattered more than life.

the second time, it was dead

before I looked down

to watch my tummy

grow.

the third time

it was a boy. and my dad

was alive to hold him.

the fourth time

it was a girl. at the

ultrasound I cried.

i held my breath

praying i would have

a daughter.

to replace being

a daughter. but that

is eternal too.

pinched with love

and Greek sayings.

So when the nurse asked me how many children do you have? I paused.

I really wanted to say four

but my husband

would not understand

how I think about

the other two

all the fucking time.

Two, I replied, a little breathless. a little jaded.

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58 thoughts on “Four

  1. Wow. I’d wanted to say this was sadly beautiful, but the more thought I give it, the more it seems to be beautifully sad, if you get the distinction. Either way, you got me. Wonderful.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Holy crap! That was so powerful. Raw and real. Feelings and regrets that are hard to forget (and shouldn’t forget, right?)
    Great piece.
    Btw, thanks for visiting and following my little blog.
    ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  3. It’s amazing how often the world tries to get us to get over something they can’t bear to feel. You have four children even if not all of them are with you. You have to live the truth and those who can’t deal with it or don’t want to don’t have to listen. I’m sorry for your losses. I’m glad that each of them has a mother.

    Liked by 1 person

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