The Glass Baby

Apologies to fellow MDCers. This might seem familiar as I posted it when I wrote it back in December. But, conception, fertility, hoping for another a baby, parenting after a loss - all these have been on my mind a lot recently and I still don't think I can express how I feel better than this.


The Glass Baby

I wake one morning
Aware of molten glass
Pouring into me.
It burns and the pain makes me cry.
But my tears don't cool the fire
So I grit my teeth and reach down.
I pull and push until a shape is formed -
A tiny glass child.
I look at my hands, burnt and bloodstained,
And I fold them over my belly
To protect the fragile life within.
IT ISN'T ENOUGH.
Until suddenly, my little glass boy floats.
I look inside and see his sister.
She is rocking him and crying tears of joy.
Her tears surround him in a warm, wet bath.
He floats, protected and happy,
My tiny man.
Her tears reflect in the glass of his limbs
And Rainbows burst from my womb.
Her tears, my broken hands, his rainbow
Surround him on our journey
'Til he bursts forth in a gush of her tears and my blood.
I recognise his newborn cry
As a call of goodbye to his womb mate
His newborn limbs flailing a wave
To his loving sister,
Who smiles and kisses his head,
Before wrapping herself in our rainbows
And tucking herself back into my heart.