(Warning - quite a sad poem)
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This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.
In a room full of strangers, the most important stranger
Squirts cold and smelly jelly on my slightly rounded belly.
I smile, everything's comical.
You read about these moments,
And we've waited in a fever of anticipation.
Excited by the chance to send out a photo,
We clutch the required three quid,
And crane our head around medical students,
Three nurses, and the all important doctor,
Ultrasound expert
- I've just remembered, his name was Jesus.
The screen is blurry, dark, morphing into
Alien shapes.
Shifting, sorting, I smile indulgently
At the grainy haze,
All to be expected,
Sometimes, the photo's don't even *look like a baby,
but -
There's a silence
And then something in the room shifts,
Nurse and scanner share a glance,
The students remain glazed, this is the seventh of the day
And they don't know enough, to know a thing,
But those who know, know,
And suddenly, I know.
There is no baby on that screen,
Because there is no baby.
Questions remain to be asked,
Am I sure of my dates?
The pregnancy looks younger...
But I know
Even before they fail to find a heartbeat,
And have already retreated
Into oblivion,
Where I will remain
Through the ensuing operation,
And for months beyond.
I cry, I cry,
I cry, endlessly,
Wondering why.
This happens to many.
I have shared their stories, since.
But you cannot know,
until you know.
That's the worst place, so far,
I have ever had to go.