The Author Wants You to Know...

Name: Marina Martins 

Brazilian, living in the US

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"The agony, the struggle, now a distant past,
As mother and child, love’s die cast."

In the throes of labor, I found my way,

A journey full of day and night’s sway.

The call of induction, though not my plan,

High pressure led, by a doctor’s hand.

 

A gentle balloon push, a cervix’s plea,

Three more centimeters, a step towards glee.

No anesthesia, ‘til Tuesday night’s tune,

With doula’s help, ‘neath pain’s moon.

 

In tubs I soaked, through hospital halls,

Contractions roared, like ocean squalls.

The pain, relentless, followed its course,

Until epidural’s grace, sweet relief’s source.

 

At four centimeters, dawn did rise,

Medication surged, with new sunrise.

With ten, Maya’s birth hour near,

Through labor’s strain, love’s bond clear. 

 

Seven forty-five, the world anew,

In love’s weight, two point eight five grew.

The agony, the struggle, now a distant past,

As mother and child, love’s die cast.

 

In the hospital’s embrace, our first night spent,

Vaccines given, tests intent.

In care’s embrace, we both find rest,

As colostrum feeds, love’s bond blessed.

 

Our babe, a vision, perfection’s sight,

With each coo, love’s flame alight.

Tomorrow’s promise, homeward bound,

In love’s embrace, forever found.

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