"After this birth, I can stop counting the years between the abortion and today, wondering about the age of a ghost.' [An interview]Read Now
MW: You said you had something you wanted to share with our readers?
Anonymous: Yes. Long story short, I had a baby a little while ago. I was flipping through my notebook and came across something I wrote when I first found out I was pregnant. No point in keeping it to myself when somebody else might enjoy it too.
MW: Lots of somebodies. We love wise words around here…
Anonymous: Good. It’s from November 19th, 2014.
MW: (Laughs) Thank you for the time stamp.
Anonymous: Here goes…
I realized today I only have today. I’ve spent so many days counting tomorow’s, like pennies in a jar. Saving for something. Some other time to spend it. That time, it seems, is now.
I’m pregnant again. Fifth moon, fourth child, although the tarot reader said this one is returning. One of my babies who I left behind and wondered about has found me again. After this birth, I can stop counting the years between the abortion and today, wondering about the age of a ghost. The prodigal son has returned, and he grows in my womb, triumphant.
Some things are too personal to be published but still I write.
I can feel him in there, making me nauseous. Why does the body want to vomit up babies? It’s a mystery I’ll never understand. I keep him down there with tiny meals, lemon water, and dry heaves when I cry.
I still cry. Over the littlest things. Despair creeps in the wind, in the early setting sun, in the snow that falls in place of rain. It’s too cold for me outside. But inside has no breezes. Still, I’m tired of seeing what’s gone. If I have to pretend or outright lie to myself, I’m investing in happy endings.
My friend told me four babies are easier than two. She said it with an exclamation point. Four is nothing! She said. Hmph. We’ll see. I’m reading the postcard but I’ve never been to France. I can’t take nothing for her journey.
Still, I think I understand. Four babies is more hands to hold than I have arms, unless I become a divine Indian statue. Even those are only metaphor. Four babies means trusting someone else to hold, to help. Four babies means letting go of the idea that I can do it all myself. Four babies heralds the practicality of faith. The deliciousness of release. She said all mothers are supposed to do anyway is keep their children alive. I’m not sure if that’s true but it sounds good. For sure, four babies reminds me to give it to God/dess. I am the portal but she is the stars. She is the stars.
Sleep covers my days like a blanket, makes me fit for dreaming. I dream of possibilities, and for the first time, they are really possible. They really are.
I think this one might make me a woman. Welcome, friend. I’ve been waiting for you.
MW: (Fans self) Girllll…. you DEEP.
Anonymous: I know, right. (laughs) Thank you for letting me share.
MW: The pleasure was mine.