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.


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