Homebody

I am content

It’s beautiful here

The game is dirty and I’m naive.

The shadows have never felt so warm, so welcoming.

She extends her arms to me, and hugged me tightly.

There is a certain freedom here,

A certain appeal.

I’ve gain nothing, if I’ve lost myself.

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My Sugar dumplings

sugar dumplin

I wanted you.

You entered this world and made me the happiest person. For once, something that I was apart of was completely perfect and whole.

At 37 weeks and 6 days you made your debut.

You arrived just under two weeks of your due date and Id like to believe it was partly up to my own efforts. As my growing belly became bigger, and your movements more forceful, I grew so impatient.

I wanted to meet you.
I wanted to hold the little human that I helped created.

So at 33 weeks I started drinking raspberry leaf tea. At 34 weeks I ate four to six dates daily. At 35 weeks I took 30 minutes long walks. I spoke to you, I read to you. At 37 weeks, it was official. I did an insane amount of squats and at nights your father and I adult wrestled.

I worked for you

My water broke at eight in the morning and eight hours later I was pushing you out like a boss lady, all while watching an episode of  family guy.

Now here you are, almost eight months old already and your labor and delivery is kind of a haze. I’ve some how forgotten the horrific details , all that is left is now stories of your perfect crinkly fingers and toes.

In retrospect, laboring and recovery  was difficult. But now  trying to recall that experience feels like I’m telling someone else’s story.

Pitocin  induced labor to speed up the contractions. CONTRACTIONS that fried my nerve endings, sending my body in a frenzy of constant shock. Just absolutely the worst pain I’ve ever felt- It was torture.

think being electrocuted, then pause for few moments.
think tractor trailer slowly running over your back with all six giant wheels, one after the other, then pause for a moment.
being thrown off a cliff, then pause.

JUST TO DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN AND AGAIN.
terrifying.

At 6 cm dilated, I asked for the drugs. The epidural took it’s time to kick in, about 30 mins. My legs lost feeling and my body slowly got numb. It took the edge off. Instead of excruciating pain, I felt pressure as you made your way down the birth canal,

30 mins until delivery, I did three sets of pushes on the doctors command. You were crowning, I touched your head- wet, soft and hairy. One final push, and you were placed on my chest. 

You breathe life and purpose into my seemingly plain nonchalant existence.

You stirred the lioness in me- and you are my cub.

 

I Whispered in your ear,

there is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you- a promise I solemnly swear.

My sugar dumplings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Itch with a capital B

My most beloved,

Come from under your sanctimonious guise, let me look at you.

You are not fair. Your nature is duplicitous: You masquerade, flaunting democracy, promising equality.

I once thought you were a lady of dignity, turns out you’re nothing but a well-kept whore: spreading her legs to the city’s highest bidder.

You put your red lipstick on
And you whisper intimacy in my ear.
You enchant me with the liberties from lips- seductive words of possibilities.

You teased me, caressed me, tickled my neck then folded with my deck.

I mattered?
you cared,
I thought…

I opened up my pockets and emptied my heart, completely yours.
Completely brainwashed
Entrenched

Now I see you,
You are promiscuous, you have no loyalty, but to the coin. And I am poor.

You’ve abandoned me,
Our promise
Our dream.

You fling yourself to the man with the most wealth, prestige, with the most power,

And I am poor.

What must I do?

You spread your seeds wild and I am pregnant:

With fear
With insecurities
With rejections
And Unfortunately regrettables

How long must I wait until you throw me a glance?
What must I do to get within your bosom.

I have no money,
but my art made of gold.
Love me for me?

To my love….

I grow more anxiously every day. I just can’t wait to meet the love of my life. Your kicks have grown stronger, a little weird at first, but now I think it’s how we communicate. How did I fall so madly in love with you already? I’m so comforted by the fact that you are living within me- two bodies in one. I have these crazy dreams about how you look and who you resemble. I’m counting down the weeks until I finally get to see you.

Love ll92718

My love, your presence has grown even bigger in just three weeks. Your movements are swift and full. I count as you crisscross over my belly, and I lose track. You move so fast and random, but beautifully perfect. We have several more weeks to go- and mommy can’t wait. I can’t wait to touch you, smell you, to kiss away your tears, to get peed on, to hear your baby growls. I talk to you a lot and you react so well, I rub my hands over my tummy, you respond, and I get butterflies.

Love ll101618

Chronicles of June bean- partI

you were a real-life jelly bean, growing in my uterus.

You’ve invaded my space and made your cocoon in my womb. You rebel every chance you get, and it’s only been a bit over a month? I’m still not sure. I think I can sense you, sense that my body as given itself over to something greater. I never expected it to be like this. You greeted me with swift cramping and swollen sensitivity of my lady lumps. Not that was abnormal, but cramps that usually subsided within few hours before the red flood didn’t quite go away and still no flood. Sneaky! I had a lot of plans that never included you. But here I am scrambling to give you the life I promised you several years ago.

Soon after, an ugly feeling settled at my stomach. It rested there for a few days. A permanent hangover. I prayed for release, to rid myself of this unsettling feeling in my gut. The nausea stayed there, unrelinquished and brewing.

I remember, my body bent over and curled to the floor, I’m on all fours now.

A fierce and berating growl escaped from the depths of my belly and vibrated against the back of my throat, bringing with it morning’s breakfast, apples and curdled milk. My chest burned up, I could then feel the acid penetrating the walls of my chest. My body shivered, and I pissed myself.

It was this very mind etching moment, I decided you’d be an only child.

Mothers, sisters and female friends told me it would get better. But it was hard to think of the light at the end of the tunnel.

At eight weeks and six days, I finally went to the doctor.
And you became so real to me, no longer were you the thing that occasionally fling me to the floor,
you were a real-life jelly bean, growing in my uterus. You catch unto the left side of my womb. You were real!

For three and half months I vomited three times a day following each meal.

I could not hold down liquids, especially water. I was so worried about you. How can I possibly nourish you when it had become physically impossible to keep food down? I read, and I tried every old lady’s tale I’ve heard about, seeking means by which to sustain us.

I thought about you much more than I did about me, quite an anomaly, given that I’m a naturally a self- centered and selfish human. But you flooded my consciousness, can I hurt you if I sneeze? Even that became a legitimate fear.

Can I color my hair?

Can I pierce my nose?

Can I take baths?

Can I still go to the gym?

Can I eat tuna? I like tuna.

Coffee?

Like women before me have done, so did I. I gave up all that I loved and enjoyed, just to preserve your health. I completely placed you above me. I gave up coffee, and listen, no matter how overrated that is, it’s a big thing for me. I don’t have a lot of things that I enjoy, but a Mocha at IF Coffee, surely hits the spot.

But this was not a sacrifice.

Thank you, for latching on this time around. And I can’t wait to see you….so I can start drinking coffee again and going back to the gym…lol

No but seriously,

I patiently wait to meet you.

a bubbly wine

You are unkind.

You are cruel, hateful and vile.

You have cast me away.

You rebuked me.

You told me I was not good enough even though it was my best.

You entrapped me in mediocrity then try to brainwash me that it’s good enough.

Well it is not. And I am not Mediocre.

I will not be trapped.

If there is no place here for me.

I will build one.

You tried to silence me.

But I will not sit, cry and shut the fuck up, as you’d wish.

You do not know what it is like.

To dream,

To be hungry.

To want to die…

I have, and I will not sit here and fucking weep.

Hate,

Quite frankly,

I will grab you by your horns, let you be my bitch.

You be at my beckoned call.

I will squander you,

use and abuse you, as you did me.

Ill make good vice at your sacrifice.

I will climb on your back, and a tower atop,

Of the years of humiliation and shame.

I will rejoice and be glad

I will have the last laugh.

Cottage Cheese

and we break hearts again.
So, I tell them it’s okay this way,

I am afraid,
I’m afraid to apologize and tell you I love you.
Fear that you might snark at me and say something unintentionally or intentionally  mean.
I fear that you might push me away to an even colder place- of dismay, regret and hate.
I’ve been in their residency for over half an year now.
And yes, its thrills are seductive,
and pride is strong and I feel powerful.

I miss you.

I look myself in the mirror, and striking features resembling yours, reflected-
pain, shame, guilt.
But, I guess you haven’t had any of those, because you are perfect. And it’s always been like that.

And I guess that’s why I’m writing instead……

Fear that you might not accept me,
And fear of making myself smaller- to make room for you.
Because you have always been big.
Bigger than me, than anyone I know.

Fear that you might accept me, and we break hearts again.
So, I tell them it’s okay this way, we need the space.

Too much thoughts of you and it opens wounds.
Scar tissues that I’ve never let heal, just to remind me to never get close to you.

And Yes, sweet painful memories,
on eyelids,
bitter phrases on finger tips,
and my lips.

I want to forgive you,
But,
I want to hate you too.

You’ve said you love me, but I never once felt it.
You have been so frugal with your emotions and scarce with your affections.
Stingy with your sincerity.