Thursday, November 10, 2011

7/30 Imani

Imani


Your birth was more than memorable.
My first child, you would be the pure, the best of me.
You were late.

It was like you said, “I’ll be born when I want to!
Who are you and what do you want?
The apartment is paid for.
Thirty-six weeks is a suggestion,
I can stay longer if I want and I want!”

I went into labor with you at a play.
The 14th Street playhouse, the play,
It was great; grandma was involved, so you know it was great.

When the first twinges grabbed me, my mother
Let me know that pregnancy and childbirth was not like in the movies.
“Yes, you are having contractions
but it could take hours and
I am on a panel with Ruby Dee
and Ossie Davis so, hold tight.”

I held tight.

Red beans and rice, midnight. I couldn’t help myself.
They laughed. All of them.
Me clutching my stomach, your home, hobbling through the house.
When I got there, to the hospital, your doctor no where in sight.
It was supposed to be all Zen and well, Zen.
The nurses were tripping.
The stand in doctor an Asian man with the last name of Gonzales.
I laughed, you laughed later when I told the story,
I mean it was funny, despite the pain.

My mistake was yelling at the nurses.
Telling them how I heard about switching babies.
Checking your birthmarks and other distinguishing marks.
This could be why they left me in a hallway after
birth, freezing and damn near feverish.
Meanwhile they dressed you in ribbons and bows
showing your beautiful self to the other patients.

When I saw you.
My heart doubled back on its self.
You were so beautiful that secretly,
I hoped you looked like me.

Twenty – three years later.
You are making your way.
You always accepted the me ,
who is me,
no matter how uncomfortable I made everyone around us.
I don’t hold my tongue;
you know this and love me anyway.

I wish you the world.
All shiny and sharp and confusing.

You are my child, you got this,
you will work it the way it suits you.
I know that you know that I love you.
You can do no wrong in my eye.


Do the damn thing!

Make your mark!
Make me proud, like you already have!

My baby is in the world now.
The possibilities are endless!

Give them hell, take names and call me
so we can talk about the fall out.

Rock the world baby.
Because that’s what your momma intends to do.
Later, we will compare notes.
I rock, because you rocked me first.

Love,
Your Momma!

No comments: