Poetry From An Unconventional Mind

Infertility

Infertility

A (somewhat open) letter to my body.

Dear My body.

I wear this curse you gave me

As a badge of shame.

It's like an ill-fitting cap

Emblazoned with the letter 'D'.

Your parts make you a woman,

But some of you is missing,

They say that bearing children

Does not define a woman.

Why then do I feel

As though i have failed.

Achieved an 'F' in the class

Of 'How to be a woman'?

You torture me each month,

With cramps, hot flushes and blood,

But how dare you do that

When you took so much from me.

You took the basic human right

To give another life.

Some days are easier than others

And i can almost forget.

Then another birthday nears or

Someone else falls pregnant.

I'm happy for them, I truly am,

Though it may never be my turn.

Your favourite trick it seems,

Is giving me false hope.

A missed period and bated breath,

Thinking maybe the doctors,

Just maybe they were wrong.

The single line looks like a laughing face.

There is so much more that makes a woman,

Than being a wife or mother.

That is not the point I am making,

I know that to be true.

The point that I am making,

Is that you took that choice from me.

So I hope you're happy with yourself

You unforgiving thing.

Now you know the true extent

Of the effect you've had on me,

Emotionally, physically and psychologically,

So here i'll end this letter.

Yours Disgracefully

Me.