Sick
again and again
and again and again and
miserable, tired, and sick
So excited you are there and growing
Excuse me, I'm going to be sick
We dream and imagine who you
are and will be
We plan and pray
We are becoming a family of 3
Though I am sick
***
After 7 months I am rarely
sick and you are obviously there
Then the itches start
and DO NOT STOP
Not with scratching
Not with lotion
Not with ice cubes
Not with sleep
I ITCH!
Will I itch for the next five weeks?
3 a.m. - potty time
Wow! I really had to go
Oh
Oh my
No way
You aren't supposed to come for a month
(and your Daddy isn't here)
Can't stop you so here we go
Pain
Pain
Pain and push
Pipkin turns to Grace
NOTES:
On my first Mothers Day I was given a bracelet, my Mommy Bracelet. It was a gift and a thank you for carrying, birthing, and now trying my best to help raise our daughter. I wrote this poem to remember how I got here.
'Pipkin' was our in utero name for our baby because we didn't know the gender before birth.
Sweet memory, in spite of itch & pain, still Grace! Happy Mother's Day, Kristi!
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