First month I am happy.
Full of plans of “what to do‘s?
What will it be?
He is full of “I love you’s!”
Second and third
Are not a celebration!
I can be heard
With all the stomach irritation..
Fourth, fifth, and sixth
I am thinking of names
I’m not quite as sick.
There are no pains.
Seventh and eighth
I wobble, not walk.
The weird things I crave.
The scary birth talk.
This is month nine.
I feel all this hurt.
Pain in my spine
With all this hard work.
Is it a boy that’s coming out?
Will he play ball?
Is it a girl, put here to pout?
Then the Doctor makes the call.
"What do you want to name your girl?"
He asks with a smile showing all his teeth.
I thought to my self “She’ll be my world”
"I think I will name her, my heart…Charity."
With all this sweat on head,
And a very tired grin,
I simply spoke up and said
I think I’ll do this again.
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