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A Postpartum Night Reuben Tacas
Dear Baby, Do you cry like everyone else? I hope you’re just hungry. Yet, I still blame myself. They say you are mine. I can’t question the doctor, But deep down—How? Can I be your mother? I want to forget it. What they put me through— The cuts. The stabs. The bleeding. For you! They just wanted you! What am I saying? My tears swell with regret. I love you, okay? Don’t you ever forget. People say this is normal, But they don’t have a clue. How. Much. I. Hate. To. Hear. That it’s painful and true. Dear Baby, I love you like no other. This will be different than before—I swear. You’re alive and well unlike your brother.
