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- Art
- art and medicine
- art therapy
- arts in health/arts and health
- French literature
- poetry
- French literature
- poetry and prose

I am so happy. Blooming they call it.
We worry about you -
mummy must still take her tablets.
To make her better, to keep us safe.
We stare at you on the screen,
Our bouncing bean. Our precious little girl.
I do not know why but sadness encompasses me
It drowns me, it steals my bloom.
One minute you're there in my belly
I know you're there, constantly jabbing, reminding me
I don't quite know what I think of you but
You can't come out yet, you're too small -
Everywhere is in pain, all over, all-consuming pain
My head aches, my body hurts, you're killing me.
My body bulges.
I want you out, I want it over. Hurry up.
I am laid out on my back. White. Sterile smell.
Tugging, pulling, fighting. Talking.
You are torn out of me 3 months too early
I glimpse you, you are rushed away.
You live in a box, I don't see you for 3 days
Everyone else does.
You're beautiful, I'm told, a real fighter.
I didn't want you out, I didn't want it over. It's too …
Footnotes
Competing interests None.
Provenance and peer review Not commissioned; internally peer reviewed.