This last semester of college (woo hoo!) I wanted to take a fun writing class, not just writing the typical papers (which…I need to be doing right now. Shh…). I wanted something specifically about writing fiction or novels since that’s what I would like to do later on in life, but you know we don’t always get what we want. I ended up in Creative Writing. Sounds promising, right? Except the entire class is poetry, and no other forms. I was hesitant at first since I consider myself a writer not a poet but, it’s actually enjoyable just to be creative in general and comes easily. I’ve gotten good feedback on the 3 I’ve done so far, so I’m going to be brave and post on here too. *deep breathe* And just a note: I am by no means an expert at this and I take a less formatted/traditional approach to poems so if you don’t like poems that don’t rhyme and don’t fit a formula, click away (ahem, my husband). I just do what feels good/right for me.
This one is the most recent and I thought was appropriate to share since we all know pregnancy and fear of miscarriage is on my mind constantly now. It has been exactly a year since the twins came to be, I wanted to capture their short life and our experience together. I imagined what it was like for them, in a way to honor their memory but also to bring myself comfort. *deep breathe* Here we go…
My Twin and I
I was conceived out of careless love
Yet, I never doubted I was loved.
There were two of us,
My twin and I.
One stronger, holding on longer,
The other slipping away before they knew
We were two.
My heart beat too slow,
I felt God call to let go.
I heard the doctor through the womb
Tell my mom to let go of hope, too.
I felt her stomach tighten,
Her tears start to flow as she said, “No.”
I felt the heartache she never thought she would face.
While she waited, prayed, and hoped,
I joined my sibling above.
She waited and held on–an entire month–
Before our remains were sucked into light.
I watched from above as the moment she awakened,
I wish she wouldn’t hurt—I wish she knew.
We’re okay Mom; we’re dancing with no need for shoes.
Laughing and playing with the Father she praises,
We’re better than okay—
From my view above I like to watch her with my sister,
Laughing and playing with the daughter she adores.
Reading books, playing puzzles, and tickle monster;
I know she thinks of us often–
We could have had those moments, too.
Almost a year later since we came to be,
I see another take our spot,
Comfy and warm just like we were,
And my parents delighted with joy.
Will this one follow us, will God call them too?
Will my new sibling form as we could not?
Either way, help my Mom know—