To my fourth child.

Just entered this post in the April writing contest over at Scribbit. Go and check out the contest... maybe you can enter too!

Edited to add: I didn't win! But out of 56 entries, I was one of three honorable mentions. :)

I wouldn't call you an accident. I understand the workings of basic biology... cause, and effect. But then, I didn't really put you there on purpose either. One day, you just were. A part of me, growing, consuming, becoming.

For a short time, we were comfortable together. But I knew what was ahead. I'd done this before and knew that soon, I would curse your existence as well as I cursed my own.

You were merciless.

You might as well of sucked the marrow clean out of my bones. A little thief, you robbed my body of all things nutritious. You built your own bones, grew your own cells, while I tenuously soaked up the leftovers, often left with nothing but bile, and sweat, and tears; a life sustaining factory - exhausted, discouraged.

It wasn't easy bringing you into this world. But multiply the pain, the exhaustion, the endurance ten fold, and I'd do it just the same.

Because you are mine... you are me... you are you.

There was a time when my body was not yet a function of productivity, a well of sustenance. Back when pelvic exams were still considered a gross violation and my skin, a smooth plain, unmarred, unmarked by the painful stretching of accommodation.

But my heart was unmarked then too. Unaware that tiny hands and feet would soon pull my heart right out of my chest, shaping it, molding it, and forever keeping a little piece of it for themselves.

I am changed forever because of you, and the others that came before. I am bruised, I am broken, I am split, stretched, scarred, marred.

And I am whole.