Those days of urine waterfalls in the WC and drinking rivers of milk, a result of the pregnancy of my suffering wife. Ingesting things that would have sickened a goblin, such cravings. And worries about her shape vomited forth depression and can you really care?
Those mornings with our shared nausea, sympathetic on my side. A woman fears losing with such a change.
A deluge of tears and refusing touch because she feared the end of our togetherness.
Then the birth with that post-partum funk fogging the house.
After the mountains of excrement, diapers, and late nights, the sun finally shown again.
Later, the empty nest. That's another story.
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Author:
JDB (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 28th, 2024 15:22
- Comment from author about the poem: When my wife was pregnant. I tried to support her. I also experienced sympathetic morning sickness as well as labor pains at the birth of our two children.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 34
- Users favorite of this poem: kwrites
Offline)
Comments1
Depressing left with the smell of diapers a brown smog and the smell of diesel. Powerful poem
Yep. An interesting time.
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