Mozart: Symphony No.36 `Linz` mov.2 / Heechuhn Choi · Korean Symphony Orchestra
For
LISA and SCOTT
who have made
our lives
complete
October
October...October!
the month of my birth
and that of my first-born--
Could it be also the start of
another's existence?
Could my body possibly hold
in its warm, dark recesses
the secret beginnings of new life?
Comes a gentle heaviness
deep in my womb...
as always before,
But nothing more...nothing,
And day upon day passes
in trembling wonderment--
Do I dare even suspect it?
Half-frightened, half-hopeful,
in silence
I wait...
November
The autumn rains come
to water the fertile earth,
to prepare her for spring
seedlings now hidden deep
beneath her bosom.
And so my tears of joy come,
preparing me for my
coming season,
and the new life hidden deep
in my once infertile womb.
December
Today I heard your heartbeat,
O tiny fetus!
Through the magic of electronics
midst liquid, swishing sounds
spoke the soft steady "lub-dub"
of your own life-blood.
Doctor didn't have to tell me
for I've known it many weeks,
But I loved to hear him say:
"You're going to have a baby."
And I felt all warm
and tingly
all over again.
January
My son has weaned,
my first-born, my babe--
now just past two,
almost a child.
He nestles close against
my bulging form
And I rock him gently...
My pregnant body has withdrawn
from him
its warm, sweet flow of goodness,
So he withdraws from me.
Yet, even now, he is content
to rest his head between my breasts,
to sleep quietly near me--
But he suckles no more.
February
Suddenly
it's all so real...
the gentle flutters deep inside
that come
in the quiet night.
Now I attend the classes--
wearing my special clothes,
seeing all the other big-bellied women
and life-size charts
of babies being born,
taking home
free diaper rash ointment,
incredibly tiny Pampers, and
brochures from (alas!) the
formula companies.
Stirs within me
a pleasant nostalgia
of my first pregnancy year,
and immense desire
to hold the little one
close to my heart.
March
I have busied myself--
too much so
perhaps,
for the pressure
is great
to complete a thousand things
before
the baby comes.
Yet
I feel guilt,
frustration,
and my own
neglect
of those I love
most.
And I weaken
and weep...
sleep...
and try to begin
another day.
April
For a moment
I relax
and feel the warm April sunshine,
the coming-summer breezes
soft upon my face,
whispering through my hair,
and I delight in the acrobatics
of my unborn child.
My little boy runs laughing
across the quietly greening meadow,
sprinkled with pink and yellow,
white and blue;
the last of the winter nestlings
are flying north,
and cotton clouds drift high
in a cerulean sky.
I am content,
secure in my nest--
for this moment.
May
Days...and nights
etch their way into memory,
bringing
summer storms,
unbelievable heat,
disturbing my tranquility--
and I almost take for granted
the constant presence
of my growing babe.
Until someone sees me
and says,
"When are you due?"
June
forty weeks
have passed
contractions
come
hours go by
filled with intense urgency
stay close
my husband, my love
your voice becomes
my strength
and I am much in tune
with the rhythms
of my body...
I cry out now--
ah, blessed moment of birth--
our daughter is here!
minutes old
she suckles
such love flows
between us
I wait only
for the joyous reunion
with our first-born son
our family is
complete
July
Tonight
you cry,
in sheer awareness
of life,
and I offer you the comfort
of tired arms and
full breasts
...then we pace the darkened hall,
feeling each other's presence
until
we are both at peace
once more.
August
Pregnancy is past
(postpartum, too,
so the doctor says).
Grandma has gone home
--the holiday is over--
and the realities of
motherhood
are begun
anew.
September
What happened to
my precious toddler-boy,
the one I bore
not quite three years ago?
I see but obstinance,
so foreign, so repulsive
--not my son at all.
What happened to
the mommy
who was always there
for only him
to snuggle close to in the dark?
He feels rejection now,
so new and so confusing,
and struggles hard
to make it not be so.
We are estranged,
and I am so lonely.
October
She smiles at him
as the first time
she ever smiled,
pure adoration,
as she alone can give.
He reaches out toward her,
as in the beginning,
a tender touch
and genuine,
but he alone must do it.
An old relationship is restored,
new bondings are established
with a hint of sibling love
and promises for a beautiful
tomorrow...
--10/15/1979
