United States

I tell myself that it's just a little bit of spotting

A teeny bit of unsustained bleeding

Nothing more

But it's much more than that

It's almost like we're trying for a pregnancy



And again and again

A bit closer each time

We keep trying

But you can't get me pregnant


In the short term, it's a relief

But I can't say wasn't a little bit crestfallen—

The way you said it, you seemed disappointed too

I wonder if it crosses your mind

Every once in a while


With every day that goes by

You're deeper into me

I think about you and I

And I only see us closer

I see a home with you


The tubes on the irrational hope of being a mother

Have been cut and tied

There's still some warm, relaxed feeling

That comes from thoughts devoted to the idea

But now it's without substance


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741