This season of life is full of simplicity
predictability
normalcy
it’s a little boy about to turn 4 who asks Mama to play with him and read him the same books over and over again
birthday party planning, holiday coordinating
co parenting changing,
his stubborn side showing,
refusing to eat meals and pushing as far as he can
but also so so sweet when he tells me
“Mommy, you’re beautiful”
“Mom I want a hug”
“Mom will you sit by me?”
toddler talks and stuttering over his words because he can’t get them out fast enough
Sesame Street on repeat and little boy jokes
daycare drop offs and after work pick ups
bedtime routines and storybooks
Single child syndrome, center of attention
this season of life is so simple
motherhood now is like holding onto the baby things while also helping him do the big boy stuff,
independence blossoming
I always wondered when we would get here
past the diaper days
the breastfeeding
the restless nights
and teething
it’s all so bittersweet
My only baby
maybe my only baby
through ***** ups and scoldings he still wants to hold my hand and be carried by Mama
this season of life is all about childhood for an almost 4 year old little boy

How can there be a space left
That was never filled,
Except with expectation.
The wonder of a face
Setting eyes on this place,
For the very first time.
A name waiting to be uttered
An identity ready to be claimed.


You lay in starched sheets
Surrounded by cheerful pink walls,
Waiting to be discharged;
After a labour that brought forth
The remnants of a life.
While at home I waited
Wanting to know your pain
To share what was still ours;
Our son lay laughing in bed
Unaware of his own small loss.


Then, like a pilot
Over the radio, as the plane
Leaves its fragile flight,
Last words of someone already dead;
The sound of an infants cry
Came across the airwaves
Of our baby monitor;
I know a trick of frequency
Picked up from a nearby house,
But never heard before
Or since, such coincidence;
As though to say goodbye.

There once was a tiny bundle of cells that grew in my womb
without the assistance of fertility medications or ovulation testing
a surprise spontaneous occurrence of the first sparks of Life
a product of the kind of ******* that happens on a honeymoon
between newlyweds full of bliss, lust, and hope

My womb once thought uninhabitable to such an occurrence
boarded a plane home five days later
cradling this new truth-
The Honeymoon Baby

Weeks would pass before my womb would begin to betray its secret
3 days late- nothing
5 days late- nothing
8 days late- the little blue plus sign and a whisper from deep in me-
“You aren’t broken?”

For several hours my womb and I jealously guarded this knowledge
My new husband not known for his enthusiasm wouldn’t share in my joy
So I sat alone feeding my hungry heart on now debunked beliefs
“You AREN’T broken!”

Having gorged myself to the point of bursting on a meal years in the making
I looked with wet eyes to my then partner of more than half a decade
“we made a honeymoon baby; I’m not broken.”
No, he wouldn’t share my joy.

His eyes turned to windows in the days that would follow
They screamed their disgust into the wide open parts of me
as pointedly and with as much passion as his mouth could ever muster
It was then that I began to silently pray the baby away

My silence only increased his vitriol until with a blast he climaxed in his rage
and I felt the cold of the recently adorned wedding band against my neck
as the hands which had held mine so softly so often pinned me to the door
Finally my silent prayers gave way to a singular scream
“I ******* hate you and I hate your child inside of me!”

My womb cried to hear the prayer spoken
She cried so long and so loud that she began to bleed
She heaved and sobbed her rage into rivers of blood that wouldn’t stop for weeks
and earthquakes of cramps that would rock me to my core
The unstoppable current of tears and blood carried the translucent sac
that housed the had been Honeymoon Baby into the ***** porcelain bowl
The baby I prayed away that would never speak whispered up
“You are broken.”

The honeymoon was over.
I hadn’t hated him before that.
Six years later to the day we signed divorce papers.

Good night my little wee one
It's time to close your eyes
If you'll but wait till morning
You'll get a big surprise
The sun will smile and greet you
In ever changing skies
For mom and daddy love you
Your the apple of our eyes

I've lived my life in stages
Searched the spaces between stars
Ripped out pages that I hated
I haven't gotten very far
But when I feel ages have passed me on
When I lay my head down to cry
I think of how you came to me
Straight down from the sky
This is for you
I stand front and center
Cherish words that you learned
by phrase and by letter
And I promise my baby it all will get better
If we only try
I am only trying to get by

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do
But just know in the end, I do it for you
You saved me, ornately, a tiny cherub
The weight on your wings I was unaware of

Rather than wait, they told me
As soon as I returned:
You were unexpected.

Of course, I thought it was a joke!
Family dinners don't usually

Start with
Unusual silence.
Not a word until our parents
Stressfully and tentatively announce your presence.
Having learned of menopause
I thought it was a joke
Not understanding that you,
Eleonore, were already on your way into my life.

I fell asleep with him drunk and stupidly in love. That's how most of my stories go. I was drunk, and I looked at him like he was God. I would fantasize and convince myself that I can finally be with someone that actually wants me. They leave and I accept the fact that no one would love someone like me.
My first lover told me I needed to stop letting people **** me so easily. So I waited and waited and still was unsure but I slept with them and they left. So I guess you were wrong, people just leave me.
I've been second-guessing people's feelings since they first state them. It annoys them but I'm never too sure until they get fed up and leave me hurting. I beg them to stay even if they will hurt me worse in the end, but I am hurting now so it won't be any different. It just doesn't seem to matter. I just need to feel. But once again I pick up a bottle and ***** the first person to talk to me because baby, I haven't been the same since you left. So call me crazy or a ***** but I want you to know I will never love someone more than I loved you. So please tell me again how I need to stop sleeping with people so easily because that's what I did with you and that got you to stay around for a while. A little bit longer than most. Please just don't leave me.
Everyone seems to leave me so I might just take this ***** and jump off the roof because baby I haven't been living since you left me. Baby, I haven't been breathing since you left.
I need to leave too. I think its better. I absolutely despise myself and everyone who has been around me. I hate this person I've become after you but baby, I was so young when you met me I don't know who I am to this day. Baby, I was so young.
Why did you have to introduce me to hurt like that so young?