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"She is brave and strong and broken all at once." — Anna Funder When spoken, it might seem innocent Like any word – just a word Afterall it doesn’t have hands to maim It doesn’t have feet to trample the faith Even though it rests on the tongue In such a way that it freezes the soul It is just a word – no less, no more Just a word But it rises up in my center, breathing Harsh pangs, deafening my hope Pouring out something akin to acid Inside my mind – into my thinking, my remembering It is like an ocean filled with black, bitterness Weeping that gorges itself on my dreams, Resting like fog over the hills of my memories Just a word, playing sharply Biting into my flesh, skin peeled back Layers of aching, throbbing like Grief that never breaks away from its Primary need for misery that is as angry As the shadows that surround it Murky memories unfolding, stirring up the past The heavens open up and pour out souls The unborn who were once given the fate Then, just as quickly, the chance was taken away… Infertility bringing with it – the same shame That remembers only to drench the disgrace In murmuring tears, like small blessings Who drip, melting away the dream, silencing The hope – but giving something new to the soul – Relief from the degradation, the stain That the word barren suggests, The desolate word, the destitute – the infertility Of – not only the dream, but the beautiful In touching the face of belief that flavors every reality The need to see – reflected in that child A smile from the womb who brought faith to life Only a word, but a word that silences the truth I’m not just a woman because of my ovaries I’m a woman because of my hope that believes Even through infertility – I have a purpose That only God could have stimulated within me, A instinct, a intuition, a intention – blessed by the Love of a Creator who gave me hope – Despite the verdict, infertility can’t kill the place inside That believes in the love that only God can provide!
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