This Poem was Submitted By: Vivian Watts On Date: 2001-12-15 23:38:04 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Labor of Love

You were born on a sunny and clear San Diego day. Nearly all days in San Diego are sunny and clear. The weather was a portent of your personality. Some days in San Diego are stormy. You were born on the Monday after Super Bowl Sunday. The ref had his stopwatch and I had mine. I was determined to have you      "naturally."   Brainwashed into thinking help for the pain would make me less worthy of you. You daddy coached me thus:   Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in... okay, nevermind the breathing, just scream! And, finally, "PUSH" Oh, dear Lord.  I could push. I did push. I became PUSH.  And, then, miraculously, your head. Just your head. time    stood       still For one full, surreal moment,    your head was in the world       while your body was in the womb.   We all waited expectantly for the final contraction. After which you were you;     separate from me. A process that continues to this day.  

Copyright © December 2001 Vivian Watts


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