Heartbeat – a poem for happy, sad expectant mothers

Last spring as oak leaves finally came in green I stared at them, blue sky between, felt sad about things outside my grasp, no control for what may happen next.

But before the spring turned up sad I found out about you one Sunday afternoon. Tucked quiet, happy in my womb, I thought all that’s left for me to do is to celebrate. Because here you are —all of you—irrevocable you. No matter what, no matter if, no need to know anything more.

So while sickness doubled me over and sad things crippled the future I held you close in prayer and hope, loved you like the sure thing you are.

And when I couldn’t bear the birdsong, you were the bright spot in my world turned over. The Lord knew, how He knew, oh my Lord, thank you.

You were all heartbeat a year ago now, an ultrasound in my hand, then just like that, like your brother and sister, you took my whole heart on your way out, but a mother’s love survives it, and I smile back at you.

It’s Sunday evening and we’re in the garden on its velvety floor fresh mowed, your bare feet pressed to April earth, time never does stand still, but it’s still the first time for you.

Different sad things and some the same cloud the blue sky this spring, but I’m breathing so much better now, heart outside my chest and all, close with my Lord in desparate prayer and left again to celebrate while helping wobbly you stand in the garden before its great and glorious bloom.

Not even midnight in my wounded soul can stop God from doing such beautiful things. How raw, how impossible that can feel, but how good to know it is true.

(I have shaky legs too, in case you were wondering.)

So—

Do you hear that soft birdsong so melodious, unflinching? Do you see those strong oaks bursting forth like new?

Me too.

My darling, how radiant, how beautiful.

Oh my daughter, just look at you.

-S.V.F., Heartbeat