Baby , little baby .

Would you even love me , if we created something beautiful and it never saw the light . Would you hold my body or caste me aside , would we turn into blameless faceless and hands full of acusations and no room to bury grief …

Spend evenings laying on coffins and waiting for this to end .. you don’t have to stay anymore … you can run …. And I still hold the bellly and the body … You can deny your body was ever a home … I have no choice to still leave the shutters open and hold the windows and the heartbeat … the faint jolts of laughter …. There was someone here … in me .. standing in mirrors and turning to the side … place hand.. hides shame .. and regret .. I know it all …. Lost and found… I tell her it is not your fault .. I tell her she may try again … and I tell her she will be a a good mother ….

Because on the days when she is longing for baby feet , she will say it’s her fault in the middle of the night when he doesn’t hold her or stay …

When she finds herself craving … to become more than a woman … she must know she can try again …

When she looks at her hands at the doctors with good news … she will doubt .. if she will be good .. she will need to know she is still a mother if she loses it and she will be a good mother …

And when I sit next to her I ask in Spanish … if she would like a hug … I stop in the middle of speaking … and I get nervous I want it to be translated perfectly .. I know how much words mean … I ask him to ask if she consents to a hug … I hug … I speak my Spanish .. it’s broken … it’s grief …. And I become professional .. in the moments … that pull me way to deep into personal … I tell her te amo … becaUse she must know she is loved …

She is loved

She is loved

She is loved

She is still a mother

Even when her body cannot hold a host .