O oily bean (or seed, really)
(wikipedia denies your fabaceous pedigree)
We thought you might bring some good luck
Or at least get this little babe unstuck!
I knew discomfort would ensue
Small price to pay, I thought-- who knew
The "cure" would be much worse than the
"disease" it promised to relieve?
We'd hoped to see labor progress
But gastrointestinal distress
(To put it most delicately)
Was all that was in store for me.
So hours later, read the score
Castor oil: 1, Becky: sore.
Haven't they used this for centuries
To truncate overdue pregnancies?
I think whoever peddled this stuff
Must not have liked women very much.
So from here on out it's slow and steady-
The babe will come when it's darn well ready!
(wikipedia denies your fabaceous pedigree)
We thought you might bring some good luck
Or at least get this little babe unstuck!
I knew discomfort would ensue
Small price to pay, I thought-- who knew
The "cure" would be much worse than the
"disease" it promised to relieve?
We'd hoped to see labor progress
But gastrointestinal distress
(To put it most delicately)
Was all that was in store for me.
So hours later, read the score
Castor oil: 1, Becky: sore.
Haven't they used this for centuries
To truncate overdue pregnancies?
I think whoever peddled this stuff
Must not have liked women very much.
So from here on out it's slow and steady-
The babe will come when it's darn well ready!
4 comments:
stupid, horrible, beautiful beans.
The last line of your beautiful poem says it all "...the kid will come out when its damn well ready".
Try to find things that "distract" you rather than irritate the mom and babe-to-be..., e.g. read "Christmas Carol" or "A Child's Christmas in Wales" aloud; dress up and go out to dinner weekly to a favorite place; mom-to-be read a completely mind-distracting novel (having nothing to do with childbirth) written by a great storyteller like something by John Fowles--the French Lieutenant's Woman; get lots of sleep.
Love,
The grandparents-to-be who have been there.
Sorry about the misquote in my comment. My wording was much cruder that yours Becky. I erred when I attributed those words to you. I apologize. Should have checked back to your original blog.
They are beautiful beans. And that was a lovely but kind of sad poem. Sorry to hear it didn't work out so well.
I still say that pregnancy is the longest wait in the world - and that last overdue week is the worst of it all! Hang in there!
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