To My Three Children by Rachel Clarke

I did not birth you

There are no stories of a 20-hour labour

Emergency Caesarean

Or home birth in a pool

I know not the rush to the hospital

professionals to thank

A new love in my partners eyes

I have no bonding story

Of the playlist of songs

How we chose your name

Your first cry, your first poo

How you lay bloodied on my breast

Both of us in tears

Mine was not the first face you saw

But for each one of you

I saw you and I loved you with outrageous joy

And my deep and painful wound teenage wound

“You will never have children”

Gently healed with the balm of your smiles