Alma

I felt you one morning
In the rush of my blood
In the heat of a Cyprus November
I swam with you
Far out into sea
My little water-baby and me.

You showed up in two pink lines
In a hotel bathroom
In the chill of a British November
You made me sick at breakfast
And forced us out into the frozen morning
To breathe deep and quell the nausea.

At 7 weeks you vanished
Into the black hole of a scan
We panicked
Waited
You kept me fatigued
Nauseated
You were there.

At 9 weeks you were gone
The black hole gaping
Hope snatched away
In a flurry of leaflets
Surgery or medication?
Offers of condolences and cremation.

You were gone
But you refused to leave
And my body colluded with you
Refusing to bleed
Withstanding ferocious pain
And fresh rounds of medication.

We had two more days together
Quiet, helpless days
Outside of time
A place where we could both briefly be
Then the blood
Arriving in a raging torrent
Tore a searing path through me
But still you didn’t leave.

I loved you
Even as they ripped you from me
Put you in a metal tray
And carried you away

I loved you
Even as I continued to bleed
My skin turning the same pallid shade
As the scuffed linoleum
Of the examination room.

I love you still, my little water-baby.

I didn’t decide to call you Alma
But somehow you just were
You flooded my soul
And every atom of my being
With your wonder
For the brief time that you were there.

I will never stop loving you
Even as the grief comes in crashing waves
Even though my heart keeps breaking
In sharp, breathtaking ways
Because you changed every part of me
Irreversibly.

You existed, Alma, my love,
And that is enough.

by anonymous

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