Doctors’ offices demand statistics--
weight, height, family medical history,
number of pregnancies: 3
number of children: 1
The first bled through,
a brilliant wave heaving me
to a Maui beach onto my belly.
That doctor: You can’t shake a healthy
apple out of the tree. Apple a day,
The second, a surprise--
A singleness announced as
quietness. I spotted, shivered,
lay on our leather couch, clenching fists,
petitioning, "Give me this,
give me this one."
A warmth flushed my belly.
I thought I'd saved the baby.
I stood, blood drained.
No one told me breasts weep.
The third time, we intervened,
another doctor with hormones of faith.
She lived. Today is her thirtieth birthday.
I carry the two
would-have-been womb spirits
behind my left shoulder,
those I loved and who I believe
loved me to death.