The second act of a prayer unanswered. Anything and everything.
We should be welcoming you, under these winter moons, saucer eyes full of stars, an office we turned into a nursery. Around the new year, a box arrived full of maternity clothes. I won a sweepstakes I didn't even remember entering but you, the only gift worth anything, keep slipping through my fingers. Anything and everything. I want to tell you this year will be different. I clutch my belly, over lullabies and classical music. I go through tea withdraw and stop eating chocolate. We go for runs and I do yoga. Fertility acupuncture, once a week, I take the supplements, prenatals, anything and everything. And we daydream, over blankets and baby names. I switched sides of the bed and lay on my left. You are everywhere and nowhere, anything and everything. The stars are bright enough in our Lexington skies to wish upon and I do: breaths of please and what I wouldn't gives. Friday night walks to temple, in the locket you gave me the first time. I would give anything and everything. Your daddy says, our babies will never know how hard you worked to bring them here but I will. And I will never forget. And I clutch my belly tighter. Anything and everything, for you.
0 Comments
|
mom & dada dream come true Archives
March 2024
Categories |