I’m suppose to be glowing and swollen anticipating motherhood
Lullaby verse rehearsing to soothe cries to come as any mother would
I should have your name picked out and your crib assembled
Experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions and kicks; full of life, my womb should resemble
But my temple of gestation was raided…I’ve been robbed of the world’s greatest joy
Now I’m sobbing as I pay homage to what would have been my little girl or boy
For two months I enjoyed the essence of your presence within my garden
Feelings dropped in my dealings with your pops; because to him, you wasn’t part of the bargain
Towards him my heart could harden only so much
Part of him was you…and for you, I tried to pardon the disgust
I felt like a martyr when we discussed possibilities of abortion
But I refused to concede because I believed what I helped to conceive was important
Even if it meant “divorcing” the love of my life in order for you to breathe
It was a hard decision…But my mother gave me the option of living, and it’s half of her blood I bleed
Showing the same love to my seed, I said peace to your pops and did the shoulder frost thing
Fool witted, he was cool with it turning his back on the one carrying his first offspring
Mentally, it was exhausting to fathom thoughts random on how I was going to make this walk alone
Though I was prepared, distraught coupled with scared and I was weakened into pleading for him to come back home
It was like chipping at stone with a plastic spoon, I broke myself in the midst of that drastic move
Devastation was trigger by his revelation; he never wanted me that’s why he bastard you
And with that he threw me beyond stressing into the depths of depression
You fought for survival with me as your rival… I didn’t know your growth I was oppressing
That lesson was learned when the pain and bleeding began the proceedings of my fields getting tilled before harvest season
Stress was like oil as it infiltrated my soils, I let that happened…I should be charged with treason
And now I’m grieving as your estimated arrival date nears
I’ll never be able to let go of the what could have beens…I’m suppose to be a mother echoes over and over as I shed these tears
