POEM.

They held my hand as I counted,
A gentle care for my past trauma.
And as the numbness swept down,
Up rushed a rising nausea.

POEM.

One for the c-section mamas this caesarean awareness month.

There’s a mark, red and angry,
Stretched tight across my skin.
And as the weeks and months go by,
It fades to paper thin.

POEM.

[content note: reflects on birth trauma, tread gently if this may be triggering for you]