Seven months pregnant my belly so stretched
Red lava running up my tummy to my breasts,
Constantly fighting to have you at home –
Frowns at my stubbornness, hips and rude tone.
A big bonny baby is safe ‘they’ say
Where nervous old midwives can monitor all day,
But faith and conviction are hard things to shake
I keep pushing my Homebirth afraid I’ll soon break.
Many hours later you were ripped out of me
Silent, not breathing, me you did not see
But Big – you were big – ‘they’ were right all along
While I exhausted weeping – my baby was gone …
And now you sit there my big-bellied boy
A scar on my tummy, so much pain to give Joy.