By Lisa Huddleston
Ready or Not
Nine months times three
you grew in me
until the time arrived.
Did my body push you out or
did you choose to escape
the confines of a space grown
too small?
Eighteen years later and
the labor pains
begin again.
The time has arrived again
and again
I am straining to
let nature take its course.
Frankly, it hurts like hell
to rip you from my heart–
even more than the tears of
your first deliveries.
Natural childbirth this time.
No anesthesia. No epidurals.
Just one big push and,
One, Two, Three,
You’re gone.
Bloodied, wailing, and
ready, I pray,
to face the
world.
Sounds like a mom grieving the loss of her daughter going to college. What a milestone that is. Exciting for the young adult and bittersweet for the mom. I’m with ya, girl!
Sending out number three this fall. Yes … bittersweet is the word. But very proud of each one.
I love this poem – so glad I have stumbled across your blog. Your writing inspires me and I’ll be visiting again. Thanks.
Thank you, Chloe.