“I didn’t know you were expecting again,” she says.


I put my hands

to my twenty-seven week belly.



to feel my baby’s last kick,

the deep abyss of stillness that follows.



the hollow silence

underneath my lone heartbeat.



every day

my daughter will die like her brother.


My friend’s baby—

a rainbow—

over a year now,

pulls on her legs,

gives me a suspicious look

over her shoulder.


“Yes,” I say.


I rub my hands over the skin where

my daughter sleeps underneath.

Later, she will wake up,

gently kneading hands or feet,

crossing or uncrossing legs,

pushing into my right side

like her brother used to do.


For a moment,

I will be reassured.



her first cry

as she is placed

on my chest,

new and wet.



to swaddle her,

name her,

bring her home.



my daughter to live.


“Yes,” I say. “Yes. I am



*        *         *

One more week. Or less. Expecting–wishful thinking, really–each day to go into labor. Saturday is Week 39, our voluntary induction day. It’s time to meet this little girl on the outside.


© Burning Eye


7 thoughts on “expecting

  1. Alex K. says:

    Prayers all week for you! Xo

  2. I will be thinking of both you and Anne…

  3. Thinking so much about all four of you. What a week. By Saturday you will have made it. I remember so well the last week pregnant with M. Absolutely surreal. I couldn’t believe he’d live, couldn’t believe he’d die, could only wait for that day…Hang in there. So close.

  4. we’ll be thinking about all four of you.

  5. That was beautifully and hauntingly written. I can only imagine how you are feeling. I have lost twins, and I can only think that maybe someday I will be where you are now.

  6. Aurelia says:

    This so beautiful, Burning Eye. I have always loved the term “expecting” but it is so complicated with a rainbow pregnancy in all the ways you describe. XO to you all

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