Who Gave You the Right to Procreate?

I almost cried at work tonight! There are few things that penetrate my cold hard exterior that I’ve built in order to do my job. Few things make me feel, makes me think, few things.
I met a baby tonight, one who had just begun to live and was almost ready to die. The mommy didn’t see the need for antenatal care, so she went nine months without seeing a doctor once. Her baby was born with a heart condition, it was difficult for me to watch him, pale, blue struggling to breathe, struggling for life and not feel agony. Sometimes when I think that humans can’t be any  more cruel, they up and surprise me yet again. That infant will probably not live to see a month, and that is a tragedy. There are couples and families that have tried in vain to have a baby, some who spend thousand of dollars, trying every new and experimental treatment on the block, just to be told that they would never be able to have their own child. It’s sad, that the ones who want can’t have any and the ones who have don’t want.

Sometimes I wish I was a rabble rousing, holier than though, evangelical nut, who was on a crusade to rid the world of IDIOTS WHO GO NINE MONTHS WITHOUT GOING TO THE DOCTOR ONCE. It bothers me, that they feel that having sex has no consequence and they have no responsibility to the growing person  inside them.

Firstly, I’m pro-choice, I don’ wave it like a banner or hold rallies about how awesome and right we pro-choicers are but I am. I don’t condemn someone who is pro-life, that’s their choice and I can respect that, but I believe in the ability to choose. I never want to be one of those persons having babies and being unable to care for them, thinking that its the government’s job or relatives’ job, or even the random man of the streets’ job to feed my children. If you can’t afford them, I don’t believe you should have them. There are enough abused, neglected and abandoned children in the world, without adding to the quantity. Being pro-choice for me, doesn’t mean using abortion as birth control or being loose and irresponsible. Yet to have that option of birth control and abortion should the situation call for it. I can tell that the backlash from writing something like this may be great, but fuck it, who cares.

Where I come from, prenatal care is a free service offered by the public heath department, you can go to the clinic and see the midwives, get standard care at no cost. If you want to see a specialist of course you will spend specialist money. There are always options and there are always excuses.

I conducted a research project when I was in my final semester of School of Nursing, investigating the percentage of women for 2010 who didn’t have prenatal care and the complications that occurred as a result. What was surprising was the high amount of women who didn’t see a doctor was approximately 30% and from that percentage only 5-6% actually had complications. The problem was however, was when the complications came, they were usually devastating to mother and infant.

This culture that we have cultivated of entitlement has really begun to dig us deeper and deeper to societal despair. No one wants to work hard for what they want anymore, they demand. From everyone but themselves, and it sucks, further reinforcing why generally, the poor always remain poor. I’m so tired, seeing women running into the hospital, in labor, ready to deliver a baby that she doesn’t even know the due date. It also bothers me, when they come in bleeding, after having taken four cytotec pills, bleeding out almost half of their blood volume and expecting us to save them. It’s the job, but it bothers me, that women feel they have the right to procreate just because they have a vagina, but with every action, there is consequence, I just hope it won’t be too high.


Grieve for you

My girlfriend lost her baby a few years ago… I didn’t speak to her for two weeks… She recently had a loss in the family… I sent her a message, expressed my condolence and didn’t speak to her for ten days! I missed her, ached at the pain she probably felt.i just couldn’t help.

I don’t do well with death, I think that’s why I’m a good nurse, I feel nothing, in the moment, I usually feel more for the family and not the deceased, genuinely I don’t know what to say, can’t express the grief I know a person must be feeling, so I shut up! After loosing my baby last year, I was devastated, i was also annoyed and pissed off at the insensitive advice and sympathy that others seem to volunteer unprovoked .I locked off my phone and ignored social media for almost a month after…

I think it cheapens someone’s pain by saying “everything happens for a reason” and all the other bullshit that some well wishers like to utter. It hurts, when others can’t feel the pain we feel, it’s sad, that the world never stops because we’re hurting. It should dammit!

All The Things wrong with me

Had a rough night with the baby last night… Didn’t sleep till two Am, then she was up at 3:30. Here goes nothing.

I’m tired of being tired
Piling my feelings into big black bags of nothing
Pretending they don’t exist
Pretending for you that I’m ok.
I’m tired of being
Pinning my poetry down to frustration and stress
I’m tired of being unwanted,
The ugly duckling
Too smart to be dumb
But too dark to be pretty
Staring into puddles and looking glasses
Trying to see the beauty in a distorted me.
A hormonal
Strung out version of my former self.
The self the couldn’t give a shit
Who is just tired of being fucking tired
And depressed
Going through the lengthy checklist of all the things wrong with me
That I should change so that I could win you!
My mythical nirvana,
Yet, the closer I get to you,
The more you look like a landfill
Reflecting the green of the garbage around you.

Make Love To Me

So I’m still in my postpartum depressive mood, I must say that coming back to WordPress and my blog has really helped a lot, and I’m so much happier, not as miserable and very approachable… So newest poem.


It’s strange
That I can’t remember how your touch feels
Or the thrill of watching you undress,
I see you naked
But I’d like to see you undress,
Minus chest and pubic hair
And the exhaustion that covers your face.
I keep forgetting your body weight
That sweet pressure
As you cover and pleasure me.
We are knee deep in dirty diapers and vomit,
Sometimes forgetting that we need a break,
Need some time to just be lovers
To be subtle
And patient
And intimate.
It’s strange,
That I get angry when I see you naked,
Secretly envious of the underwear touching you.
It mocks me,
Inhaling the sweat that use to excite me.
But I’m tired,
Doing the work of three persons without rest
I think it’s a test
That God designed to test me
And us.
The time has passed and we should be ready,
But my body is tired
My soul self conscious
And just not feeling pretty

Obsessed with Marriage


When I was younger, after growing up in a home where my parents ( dad and stepmom) weren’t very happy, I swore that marriage would be the very last resort for me.
Fast forward a few boyfriends, a seven year old drama queen, a newborn, bills, taxes and life later, I think that I have changed my mind.
It seems that I have moved from one extreme to the next, from no marriage, to I wanna get married now now. Now my significant other and I are in a committed relationship, I love this man deeply, yet I can’t help wondering why is he holding back? I know I can be a real bitch at times and generally I don’t mean anything by it. Could it be my attitude? Or he’s being a total jackass, whose holding out for effect.
Thing is, even without the official proposal I have already started planning my wedding, lol. I know I’m not the first woman to do that sooooooo… šŸ˜œ. These pass few weeks however, in my postpartum depressive state ( please note never to make serious decisions at this time) I decided that I no longer wanted to marry him…. Lol! Wow! I think he laughs at me sometimes, more than he normally should, but it’s not my fault that I like to express myself, I am a poet, after all.
Nevertheless, I’m watching that little bugger, cause I intend to get married, IN THIS DECADE! Before my vagina looses it’s elasticity and my breasts sag any further. Will keep you posted.


Life can be so unfair and we can be so pathetic


I’m sick to my stomach
And I’m almost starting to complain about the unfair, one-sided nature of life
I’m knee deep in strips again
And wiping
And pissing on yet another miserable strip of plastic and paper.
And I already know the answer,
In my mind I think you’re the problem!
Due to your endless useless, youthful frolics and constant emissions
My dream of becoming a mother becomes more and more distant.
I could be wrong though
What if it’s me?
What if the universe didn’t want me to conceive?
What if I’m not strong enough
And this constant blame game is getting us nowhere.
Every cycle is just another disappointment, another reminder of failure
And you haven’t been speaking
But your body language has spoken volumes.
You’re getting tired,
Tired of taking the blame,
Tired of making first and last moves
tired of the routine and delays
Of checking temperatures and fertility charts
To simply make love to your wife.
I know…
I’m tired to.

The Day After Today


Its quiet now,

This time of night

When creepy crawlies go to bed and

Even the restless have to call it quits.

Nothing to disturb me

But the whirling sounds of machinery and nature

On every other night, dreams stalk me,

Reminding me of days

When demons and angels were very real;

standing guard



Depriving my body of nightly rest.

I would like to wake from a dream without blood leaking into my mouth

With my heart maintaining it’s steady normal pace

when all was right in my world

Yet, Its almost daylight

And even the sun cant penetrate

the dark, stagnant crevices of a dream bent on destroying me.

It’s quiet now,

As the sun shines in,

As life begins to stir

And the workaholics start their day with coffee and the morning paper,

I finally have some peace

Until the night comes, the day after today…



wrote this piece during my pregnancy when I was having one of those nighmares.

Time is Passing

times passingĀ 

as i lay cooped up in this bed,

with only seven more months to go

i cant help

staring at the walls

the floor,

a book and my feet.

boredom has begun to set inĀ 

as i lay in the cotton cavern of hope

praying that i can make magic…

not the illusionĀ 

that’s been eluding me

I want to make magicĀ 


and nurture itĀ 

within meĀ 

as i lay,Ā 

feet in the air

calm and collected

thanking god for another day,

another timeĀ 

another chance to make lifeĀ