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Tuesday, 29 January 2013

These things happen.


O God ! O sweet Jesus!
What am I going to do?
Womb baby trembling,
Carrier trembling too.
My mother will kill me,
Daddy, the neighbours, the shame,
A gone-away lover,
A baby with no father's name.

Hospital corridors; sterile
and cold theatre hood,
Masks; gowns; confusion,
Red pressure and blood.
Defiant and screaming
she pushes her way into air,
First contact, first kiss,
first glance at her father's fair hair.

Then gathering strength
from baby, family and friends,
We face this tough world together,
Make mistakes, make amends.
So much to give thanks for
to God and those who stood by,
We respond to the 'why not'
But no one may ever ask why.

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