Three Minute Wait

Image from Wikimedia Commons

Three minutes can become an agonizing eternity 

Alone in the bathroom at 4 A.M.  

I hold that white plastic stick like a talisman, 

Praying that the tiny spark of hope 

That always resurfaces at times like this 

Would not be extinguished once again

With tears of disappointment. 

After years of dealing with a malfunctioning body 

Flooded with deceitful hormones, 

I understood that crushing emotion all too well. 

I’m afraid to breathe, 

Fighting back another wave of nausea, 

Wondering if this could just be anxiety,

Maybe a touch of the flu, 

Or perhaps something more…

My hands shake as the timer rings 

And I glance down at the indicator, 

Terrified of what I'll find.  

In that moment, 

Two pink lines showed me 

That miracles can happen, 

Even to someone like me.

~~~ This poem was written for the latest prompt from Poetic Bloomings in their poetic memoir series, asking us to write about a moment that changed our lives.  The moment that I found out I was pregnant with my daughter Emily certainly qualifies.

I was diagnosed several years with polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS.)  PCOS is a hormone disorder that affects an estimated 6-10% of all women.  Besides causing infertility in women, PCOS can also cause other symptoms including high blood pressure, insulin resistance leading to diabetes,  abnormal hair growth patterns, and obesity.  PCOS is treatable with medications, diet, and exercise, but there is no cure.  You can find more information about PCOS here.

Emmy at 2 months

Emmy age 11

  

Empty Womb, Tired Heart

Empty Cradle by ARemington @ deviantART

I hear the refrain
of those that claim to care,
the endless chain
of  Why
and When
and Just be patient, dear.

They don’t understand
the gravity of my condition,
the anticipation that swells each month
until red flicks of disappointment
trigger more despair, more heartache,
my grittled hope cracked and fading,
maternal arms still longing
for more than an empty cradle,
clinging to the desperate dream
that love will finally plant the seed
I’ve waited to watch grow and bloom.


~~~~This poem used most of the words from this week’s wordle at The Sunday Whirl.  I’ve also linked to this week’s Poetic Bloomings prompt asking us to use a line from another poem written for the site as the title of a new poem.  My title came from Suspension (a shadorma) written by De Jackson.  Be sure to check out her poetry by following the link.