Poem -
it
''You've miscarried''
''What''
''You conceived but the pregnancy didn't manage onto the next step, it was only the size of a lentil anyway as you're only four weeks, probably smaller''
''It''
''Sorry, is there anything else I can help you with''
''No thanks''
I get up and leave as he nonchalantly calls his next patient in, sipping his coffee and I am still here checking out of the hospital thinking
When did the size of my baby define THEIR importance?
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Comments
It is astonishing to me that a medical professional would consider your child an, "it" due to the development. I think you have a great start here, but wondered if you could elaborate more.
For example, you could start the poem at an earlier time, perhaps when you first learned of the pregnancy (if you new previous to the miscarriage. The joy you must have felt, the excitement, the worry, the picking out names and nursery items. Having a miscarriage is no small matter and I would have made a complaint to the doctor who gave you so little compassion.
Keep writing.
Thanks for sharing your poem.
I can so identify with this piece my friend ...powerful ?