NEWBORN INTENSIVE SHARE
POEMS FOR THE NICU
BY SUSAN ERLING MARTINEZ
From my wheelchair
When a large-bellied woman walked by.
She casually glanced my way
As I forlornly returned the glance;
My heart alive with envy.
Do you know what a privilege it is
To walk around pregnant?
Secretly, I compared waist sizes.
She looked about seven months.
I was six and looked like a beached whale.
The two babies had pushed and shoved
My skin into gross and astonishing
proportions.
Bet she’s shopping for baby junk to fill
Her new red and yellow nursery
While I timidly venture into the shops
Touch the tiny clothes
And cry.
A part of me is deciding what outfits
I’ll bury the babies in.
At night, surely she dreams of caressing
Her pretty, plump child.
At night, I imagine premature labor pains
And gushing ruptured membranes.
Soon, she’ll be rocking her squirmy infant
While singing sweet, motherly songs,
Without barely a moment of doubt or uncertainty,
She birthed a healthy babe.
Not fair.
Not fair. Not fair.
My bed clothes gather around me like a shroud.
My eternity has come and it’s not at all heavenly.
My fear of losing the babies consumes me
And I will allow no one to soothe my anxieties.
My efforts seem fruitless when I believe deep down
In the essence of my very soul
That I will never pull this off
Never be able to bring this high-risk pregnancy to viability.
How I long to be that unknown, pregnant woman
At the shopping mall!
MORE TO BE ADDED