Tiptoe
By Ani Difranco"tiptoeing thru the used condoms
strewn on the piers
off the west side highway
sunset behind
the skyline of jersey
walking towards the water
with a fetus holding court in my gut
my body hijacked
my tits swollen and sore
the river has more colors at sunset
then my sock drawer ever dreamed of
i could wake up screaming sometimes
but i don'ti could step off the end of this pier but i got
shit to do
and an oppointment on tuesday
to shed uninvited blood and tissue
I'll miss you i say
to the river to the water
to the son or daughter
i thought better of
i could fall in love with jersey at sunset
but i leave the view to the rats
and tiptoe back"Jessica stared at the ground, her fingers picking the worn hem of her jeans to bare threads. “We didn’t want to get pregnant, but we were ready to welcome it. I felt like a goddess. My body feeling so sacred as I carried a baby in my womb.” Then the blood had come. The community garden where she worked was sprinkled with it. The restroom seemed to be swimming in it. Stuffing a shirt underneath her to protect her van, she had driven herself to the hospital. The nurse came whisking in yanking the curtain closed only part way. Not even looking at Jessica she paged through her charts. “Well, it could be a complete miscarriage. No heartbeat is detected. Yet, the fetus seems to still be attached. So, perhaps it is still alive. D and C a possibility. Miss. Miss? Did you notice any discharged tissue? Yes? Well, that possibly could have been the fetus. THEY want to do a pelvic. Check your cervix. A catheter is in order. Need some urine, you know, standard procedure to check your hormone levels. Need it without blood, THEY’RE ordering one immediately.” She remembers her anger at her child being called discharged tissue. 'A baby. My baby. Not some fucking tissue.' She named her own little one (Now dying) Ellie.
Ana leaned forward. So quietly: “I found out that I was pregnant and my mom drove me up here for an abortion. I was only eight weeks along. For some reason it is easier to justify the smaller the baby.” She paused, “I’ve been so depressed lately.”
Sam pulled out a cigarette. She had the look of a librarian. Meek and professional. She was anything but. Addicted to mountain dew and nicotine, she was quite wild, on probation and owing thousands of dollars for smashing a McDonalds window. “If I had to do it over again, I would have disguised myself better.” Was her only comment despite having spent months in jail for the escapade. Her lighter flared up shining on her face behind her cupped hand; “I had a miscarriage when I was seventeen.” She puffed on her cigarette and rocked back. “My boyfriends mother had to take me to the hospital, he was such an asshole. He broke up with me a week after I found out that I was pregnant. They poked and prodded at me! You’ll be okay Jess. I think about my baby all the time, but it gets easier.”
My miscarriage left me feeling empty and dead inside. My womb felt like a sepulcher my body dehumanized. Women were created to bring forth life, not to experience death within themselves. Healing comes to help us embrace life and become what we were meant to be. Even when the odds are against us.
He was born in 1930. The hospital did not have the technology to keep his two pound body alive, and they left him in a corner to die. His mother brave and young scooped him up and stole him from the hospital. Despite his cleft palate she fed him with an eye dropper and rigged an incubator for his frail body. He survived.
Attending a conference with my family a man approached my father and I to discuss pro-life issues. He proudly explained that he was in charge of making pro-life commercials. “You know,” He exclaimed, “I come from a city that has more churches and church attendees per capita than any other city, and yet we have the highest instances of abortions than any other city. I just don’t get it!”
I do, and there is healing yet to come...fetus, blood, tissue, son, daughter, baby, fetus, it, tissue, fetus, child, baby, baby, tissue, little one, ellie, baby, baby, life, life, him, him, him, him
(With the exception of baby Ellie; names in this story have been changed in order to protect privacy.)
hey sember,
a very strong memoir. Keep up your creative thinking and keep writing! You're doing great stuff. I think you've got lots of profound thoughts to share and express.
peace.
Thank you Jesse. I am honored that you would check this site out. Thanks for the encouragement. I have much to learn. Sem
Sem,
I am sitting with my friend Adrianne in her room showing her the site. I was not expecting to see this poem, it is my favorite and that is saying a lot seeing as you know how I dont understand poetry. I can hear Ani's words swirling around almost audibly. Is this part of the book you were always talking about? Be encouraged dear friend, you can do it. Our ever FAITHFUL creator has been preparing you for this.
i love you.
karla
You really amaze me and challenge me. You challenged me with this posting and you challenged me today. The word challenge gets a bum rap these days and is often considered negative, like when someone says your child is "interesting" and they really mean that they are "challenged" to love your child. Yet children are so lovely and life is more precious than we can even comprehend. It is unsure and uncharted and it is though the future is nothing until it is here and we experience it. I am uncomfortable and comfortable at the same time. Making this a perfect time to be comforted by the Comforter and by you, my friend. Love you. leda
Karla: you make me smile. I posted that poem knowing that when you saw it you would go 'Oh, Hey!' Come visit us, but be warned if you do: you might never leave! ;o} Here on the frontier there are falling leaves, and although my neighbors are all barbarians and you, you are a thousand miles away, there are always two cups at my table. Okay, make that seven!
Leda: Broke, children, illness, travel, italy babies, loving enemies, faith, trust, hope. Faith, trust, hope. Prayer. Love and thank you.
sember, your writing is beautiful. and powerful. thank you for sharing these stories. your heart shines beautifully through them. i'm left with thoughts on a hurting world, and the miracle of healing, and life. thanks.
Who are you calling a barbarian?! I have enjoyed reading all that you have posted and am still searching for a thought provoking, possibly controversial response; but, considering the amount of sleep I get with three little ones, I am fairly sure that a clear idea is beyond reach.
Kelly: thanks for the comments. I have to constantly fight to break free of my little bubble of safety. I don't like my bubble, but it is a constant battle of priorities and discernment.
Amber: Well, you're the barbarian of course. You and those Goodman people! ;o} Children are a challenge. But it is only for a season. Just think, by the time you start sleeping at night those boys will be out late with the car and once again you will be awake, wondering if they are safe. We'll call each other in the night, asking 'has your son gotten home from his date yet?' 'Do you think our kids went to that party together?' Oh, joy!!
i just found out im pregnant..i was looking up the poem and ranlking my brain on what to do..im still so torn. but i just wanted to say i enjoyed the writting
Crystal, just saw your post. Don't know you, but wondered how you're doing? Thoughts are with you.