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[This poem was written between July 1 and July 11, 2011 by Jennifer “Xzotiqa” Allums]
I do believe this moment is part of His Master Plan But as I envision my son’s fragile body cuddled in the palm of my hand Mixed feelings fuel a struggle with insanity Just comparing how other mothers put such a strong focus on vanity Hoping their baby will have the world’s cutest curls Or feeling angry at the thought of a boy because all they desired for was a girl And here I lay-- Trying my best to portray The ultimate image of optimism and strength When in my heart I’m still in shock at the report that I’ll soon be saying my goodbyes To the baby boy we went through such great lengths To create Trying to understand how to go about this experience When not even a day will separate The joy of life and sorrow of death While this baby comes into the world awaiting his inevitable last breath...
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I used to think that the saying “I can remember it just like it was yesterday” was so cliché. That it was something someone said when they were setting the stage for the embellished account of events that they were about to expel. But. I do. I remember it just like it was yesterday. April 24th, I was scheduled for a level two ultrasound and genetic counseling. I arrived at my appointment and took my place in front of the genetic counselor. We had a wonderful conversation about Xander. I spoke of my history and his father’s history. I recalled the miscarriages that both of our mothers had and I informed the counselor. We chatted a bit more and I was sent out to the sonogram room.
She lies in my bed
On her stomach Sound asleep Unfazed Like this big ol’ world belongs to her And the statistics don’t apply She retrieves her second wind Giving out tiny doses of unpatterned breathing Her back arches as she inhales Then exhales a bit of heaven into my atmosphere I can’t hide my amazement Evident in the tears welling up in my eyes I quickly dismiss and brush away Or sometimes allow to momentarily stay... I wear my heart on my sleeve
Emotions wide open for all to see And yet you still have no clue Of what I go through On a Daily Basis Forced to wear masks Fake smiling faces No one on this Earth truly knows but me Struggle to keep my head above a raging sea Treading water with tired arms Weighed down with residue of false alarms... ©Jennifer “Xzotiqa” Johnson-Allums 2011
Eyes burn a hole in spaces beyond my peripheral Curiosity comes in the form of careless whispers Could all be a figment of my imagination Or possibly a premonition of what the future holds My “Welcome Back” to the Real World-- Which will never view me as a mother Until they see smiling baby pictures Or are able to hear the latest stories of adorable infant occurrences No, to the Real World I am no more a mother Than I was at age 7 Cradling my favorite doll in wishful arms 21 years later, these arms are now as empty as my womb… And they are sorry for my loss |
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