For My Children

For My Children

The swelling is the evidence for all the world to know you're growing
there and they sneak quick peaks at your dimensions and comment?.Mmm,
carrying high and neat, a girl for sure? Ohh, you're all around, bound
to be a boy.

But
Away from eye gaze
and speculation
we sit in darkness
curled around in each other
and play games.

I draw my fingers across my belly
over and over
in relentless rhythm
and you flutter
rapid beneath.

I push gently
here
then there
and you push back.

I hum tunes
over and over
mellow with emotion
and you quiet
suspended beneath.

I hold my swelling tummy
encircled in my arms
for hours
impatient for you.

You head butt me
in the bladder
impatient too.

After the first shock

the squeezing
the bruising
lung burst
light thrust
faces
tear wet
skin
sweat wet
hands
mucous wet
there was a honeyed silence
in yellow dawn light
and low viscous lulling voices
wide-eyed awestruck gazes
sensual soft love hands caressing stroking
and a satisfied peace.
Child,
the indescribable smell of you,
warm and new,
that invokes angels and harp music.
Surely heaven smells like this.
Round little head
with a breath of hair
those eyes, cheeks, lips,
that nose.
Lacework fingers intertwined with mine
and entangled in my heart.

Since then
Life is a collage
memories
a web of light and dark
photographs
clarity and confusion
bluebattered suitcase of precious moment baby clothes
ease and struggle
love sucked smudgy books and toys
rollicking rolling belly laughs and wrenching sobs
endings and beginnings.
You know how it is with children just learning to walk
you wait they stand
you watch they wobble
they lean precariously to one side
one leg in the air too long
down they go.
If you're quick
they plop down into your waiting hands
then with a woops! and a chuckle
you set them up again
and wave and applaud.

Having children
that's what it's like.
Waiting hands
and
waves
and
applause.

Judith Morgan