Literary Mama writing about the many faces of motherhood
Birth Plan

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Behind a sterile blue curtain, the doctor announces:
It's a bloodless extravagance!

Bird-legged and bruised, I am propped on feather pillows,
a chorus of nurses humming along with a string quartet.
They feed me morsels of freshwater mollusks by hand
and when I try to speak, my mouth snaps shut.

The room goes quiet except for the dancing of toddlers
in the amniotic kiddie pool. My palm opens to reveal her:

a single rotating pearl

which the nurses whisk away for cleaning.
The room erupts in applause–even the one-armed janitor
claps hand to blue-jeaned thigh. I try to bow

but the doctor waves me down, snips the single red thread
emerging from my feathers.

Someone makes a ring of her which I wear on my right hand,
my highest and holiest creation perched
on telephone-wire bones.


Jaclyn Desforges is a writer, editor and writing workshop facilitator. Her poetry has been featured in Mortar Magazine and Peregrine. She is currently completing her MFA in creative writing at the University of British Columbia and she has a three-year-old daughter.


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