Messy 39 Week Poetry

Breathless on the edge of monumental.

Feet at precipice, known behind, uncharted before.

Wind swirling, inviting, tempting.

Jump, jump, jump.

My belly tightens; my baby wiggles, so little room left.

Numbered days left inside; birthday secretly claimed.

Only you know when; only you can decide.

I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming.

It’s odd, the waiting and wondering.

So little I can control; so little I can do.

Remembering the first time and all it’s pain.

Choosing to open hands to purposeful pain again.


Who are you tiny baby?  Boy or girl we don’t know.

Do you look like brother?  Do you act like daddy?

You have been you for nine months but veiled from us.

One day soon we will look on your face with awe.

I hate this awful heartburn; I want it gone right now.

I hate how much my bones hurt; surely I must be breaking.

And yet to be un-pregnant, to return to status quo,

I must jump off that great big cliff and let you come on out.


I think about our Zuzu, baby lost last spring.

My heart just can’t decide how it feels, here on this cosmic bluff.

To make the leap to greet you, new baby coming soon,

It feels brave, it feels weird, it feels a little wrong.

You’re not her and you cannot be

And of course you shouldn’t be either.

You are glorious and loved alone

But had she not died you would not be.

For months and months you’ve prospered

Grown healthy and big in my womb

But how come you and why not her

The Father’s ways confuse me.

I’ve been excited, I’ve been detached

It’s hard to go all in.

Last time I jumped I fell so hard

Yet here I stand again.

Please come out with crying.

Please be pink and strong.

Give your mama some new wings

Let’s fly together, little one.


I’m trembling; I’m shaking

Thinking about your labor

Quaking in my soul

Thinking about after.

Days of child will be gone

Replaced by the era of childREN

How will I ever manage having two

Regardless, the expense is beckoning.

It’s been a long time now

That I’ve been a natural birth devotee

But at 39 weeks of pregnancy

I start to wonder why again.

Oh it’s going to hurt so much

Take everything I’ve got

Why say no to epidural magic

Why jump without a parachute?


I can recall medical reasons

More effective pushing, easier breastfeeding, et al

But that’s not really why I’ve got

A great big birth pool in my living room.

“Oh you’re so brave!” people say,

To give birth at home

But it doesn’t feel brave at all

Just comfy and right and normal.

I think about what’s coming next,

The beast that is postpartum.

I think about what’s coming next,

The love that is new baby.

My labor will be (I pray) just one day,

One day among thousands

My mothering will go on and on,

And I’ll need to know how strong I am.

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One thought on “Messy 39 Week Poetry

  1. Pingback: Tuesday Tidbits: Mothers and Babies | Talk Birth

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