Pure delusion

Still no sign of a baby,
Still all barren and bare.
No bun in the oven.
No anything, anywhere.

Still empty and waiting.
Still counting the days.
Endless frustrating
Baby shower parties.

Still pretending not to notice
A billion mothers walk past.
Suppressing the ache
With a terrible, fake laugh.

Vitamins and potions,
Tablets galore,
Bonking my husband
Like a desperate whore.

Another month gone
And still full of grief
For the life that I wanted
But couldn't conceive.

Losing my faith
And along with it hope
That it'll ever happen.
It's a really sick joke.

A test of a marriage
For better or worse.
We never expected
The infertility curse.

The worry of age.
My biological clock.
Terrible thoughts of using
Another man's cock.

Losing my grip
On these whirling emotions.
Crying in Waitrose.
Causing commotions.

My femininity in question.
A redundant, duff womb.
An incomplete woman
An imposter, a loon!

Ignoring friend's babies
For fear that I'll crack.
If I held one a moment
I may not give it back.

Flippant remarks,
And unhelpful words.
Just no idea
Of this ongoing hurt.

"Don't think about it."
Said so ignorantly.
Years of my life
thrown right back at me.

A change of direction.
That's what's required
To boost my morale,
Be re-engaged, re-inspired.

An action packed life.
I'm managing things well.
Counting my blessings
When my friends speak of hell.

Of persistent insomnia
Of nights without sleep.
While for me, it's a bonus
A blessed relief.

I can lie in til 10
Or siesta at two
With no threat of tantrums
Drool, sick or poo!

I look on the bright side,
Am thankful for a lot.
I learn not to forget
To ‘enjoy what you've got’.

Then all of a sudden,
My chest starts to ache.
Another announcement
That’s all it takes.

Again all alone.
Trapped in this cycle
Of endurance and fatigue
It's physical and mental.

I want to hear mummy,
And a new baby's cry
To have my child with me
Not a week then goodbye.

I want to know motherhood
Present a child to my mum.
A way to say thank you
For the friend she's become.

Phone calls at midnight
A calm, listening ear
Plenty of hugs
To soothe the raw fear.

More prodding and poking,
Appointments and queues.
Undignified positions.
More time in loos.

More peeing on sticks,
More far Eastern cures,
More consultants and nurses
What more to endure?

The worry, the stress,
The fear and confusion.
Starting a family?
It's just pure delusion.
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