A Poem

November 22, 2010

This is not how I imagined 
trying to conceive. 
I had the same loving dreams 
that most young women weave 

Yet, here I am laying back
in a faded cotton cover 
A doctor stands between my thighs 
where you should be, my lover 

Life’s liquid in a catheter
inserted in my womb 
We hope that one will implant 
and life will start to bloom 

You hold my slightly trembling hand
and softly stoke my hair 
The doctor does all he can do 
and we add a little prayer 

I never doubt it’s worth it
but I often wonder why 
What comes to others easily 
so often makes me cry 

I lay here on the table
for my 30 minute wait 
and dream of steamy interludes 
where we procreate 

I mourn the loss of afterglow
wrapped up in your embrace 
The wonder of believing love 
is all you need for grace 

The two week wait begins
as we walk out the door 
and we’re filled with hope ~ but worried 
that we’ll be back for more 

I hate that it’s so clinical
when I wanted sweet romance 
So hold my hand and kiss me 
and lead me in a dance. 

And I will close my eyes real tight
as truth; I fervently declare 
“Our child will be a testament 
To the love we share.” 

By Patricia Gibson-Williams


1 comment:

  1. This is very much sentimental and it reflects all the pain of infertility and inconceivable by any women.

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