'Twas the night before childbirth, and all through the mother
Flew punches and kicks from the new baby brother.
The maternity pillow took up half the bed;
Her husband hardly had room for his head.
Sleep would not come, so she got up and wandered;
Creation and life and potatoes she pondered.
She caressed her belly, she sighed, and she smiled;
She felt a contraction, but just one, and mild.
Her belly was bursting, her hips had grown wide;
Her shoes by her husband now had to be tied.
The onesies were clean and snug in their drawers;
She was finished with all of her motherly chores.
She was no good at waiting, that much could be seen
So she paced around, looking for something to clean.
Restless and awkward, swollen and sore,
She tried to recall why she's said, "What's one more?"
Her ribs felt a jab from baby's sharp limb;
Through worries and memories her mind did now swim.
Contractions, deep pot holes, a much too long car ride,
Blood-spurting cords, bruised husband by her side,
Back labor, huge needles, the hospital bed,
She thought how "Is this much pain normal?" she'd said.
Though over the years she'd thanked God she's a girl,
She whined now, and prayed for a good epidural.
As she prayed she remembered the blessed relief:
The old-man like stranger with wrinkles, no teeth
Warm, soft, pink skin, and sweet baby smell,
Strong healthy lungs and the very first yell,
Calm sleepy sighs, quiet breathing in sync,
The best-tasting orange juice ever to drink,
The look of proud daddy gently receiving
God's newest blessing, and once more believing
That He who creates and provides and sustains,
His gifts far outweigh the fear and the pains.
Eyes dancing, grinning, skin jumpy and prickly,
she whispered once more, "Come baby, come quickly!"
Flew punches and kicks from the new baby brother.
The maternity pillow took up half the bed;
Her husband hardly had room for his head.
Sleep would not come, so she got up and wandered;
Creation and life and potatoes she pondered.
She caressed her belly, she sighed, and she smiled;
She felt a contraction, but just one, and mild.
Her belly was bursting, her hips had grown wide;
Her shoes by her husband now had to be tied.
The onesies were clean and snug in their drawers;
She was finished with all of her motherly chores.
She was no good at waiting, that much could be seen
So she paced around, looking for something to clean.
Restless and awkward, swollen and sore,
She tried to recall why she's said, "What's one more?"
Her ribs felt a jab from baby's sharp limb;
Through worries and memories her mind did now swim.
Contractions, deep pot holes, a much too long car ride,
Blood-spurting cords, bruised husband by her side,
Back labor, huge needles, the hospital bed,
She thought how "Is this much pain normal?" she'd said.
Though over the years she'd thanked God she's a girl,
She whined now, and prayed for a good epidural.
As she prayed she remembered the blessed relief:
The old-man like stranger with wrinkles, no teeth
Warm, soft, pink skin, and sweet baby smell,
Strong healthy lungs and the very first yell,
Calm sleepy sighs, quiet breathing in sync,
The best-tasting orange juice ever to drink,
The look of proud daddy gently receiving
God's newest blessing, and once more believing
That He who creates and provides and sustains,
His gifts far outweigh the fear and the pains.
Eyes dancing, grinning, skin jumpy and prickly,
she whispered once more, "Come baby, come quickly!"
