We arrive with our eggs
carried like loose change
until time and sperm meet
and a baby grows where
nothing has lived before.
We cast the best eggs first
save lesser ones for later
like unmarried daughters
the non-chosen cells - still
awaiting Mr.Right.
The price for children is pain
mental and physical.
Childbirth is the well-kept secret
of forcing a bowling ball
through a buttonhole.
Unmentioned too are cramps which
yield only to tub, hot pad
or drugs - the feeling of one’s
innards being yanked out
like a dropped transmission.
And Lizzie Borden days when PMS
changes our minds to war zones.
Anger and profanity replace finer
feeling and a flat tire is reason
to call the suicide hotline.
Did I choose the wrong gender?
I wonder until 20 hours in
when they hand me you, made in me.
A miracle to erase
the memory of pain.
WOMEN
Comments
6 responses to “WOMEN”
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This expresses so well the pain and joy of mother-hood. As I grow older, the joy of having grown children and grandchildren makes the experience all the sweeter.
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I love it Cindy so true to life.
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I love all your poems, Cindy! This one in particular touched me. ❤️
Love, Jill
On Wed, Jun 3, 2020 at 9:40 AM A WELL-TRAVELED HEART wrote:
> Cynthia M. Sheward posted: ” We arrive with all our eggs carried like > loose change until time and sperm meet and a baby grows where nothing has > lived before. We cast the best eggs first save lesser ones for later like > unmarried daughters spinster cells – homely but good at ho” >
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Thank you, Jill.
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Thank you, Suze.
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Thank you. Children and grandchildren are our riches.
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