I was not called to be a mother all the years I might have been. now there is him and in his eyes I see them, the children I never had.
calendars turn, a battle of wills. forgive me, love, my body has won.
so quietly we grieve the babies I bleed.
'The Children (I Never Had)’ explores the bloody battle of infertility, of hope and loss, played out monthly by women everywhere in their fruitless quest to become mothers.
Our year of reproductive discontent was poetic and ugly and bittersweet, so like the melancholy I carry for the babies I did not.
These are the children I imagined would be ours, and the menstrual blood that defied us, every twenty-eighth day.
'The Children (I Never Had)’ explores the bloody battle of infertility, of hope and loss, played out monthly by women everywhere in their fruitless quest to become mothers.
Our year of reproductive discontent was poetic and ugly and bittersweet, so like the melancholy I carry for the babies I did not.
These are the children I imagined would be ours, and the menstrual blood that defied us, every twenty-eighth day.
