This black love story touched me so deeply. Not because I know what it is to lose a baby, though I know a few people that have, but because for a significant other (Karega) to put themselves aside to be able to love their significant other through such a transformation makes me curious about attaining such an elevated love. I'm almost jealous. Those who know me can attest, jealous is a word not used by me. I have learned that we all have different journeys in this life and many times the grass is not greener. However, after experiencing pregnancy and the birth of the best thing that has ever happened to me, stretch marks, stretched breasts and sleeplessness aside I can say the love that he aspires to give her, I aspire to get.
Months ago I started writing this poem about having such a joy in my life and how parent's love survive the loss of a child but it seems my love is unable to survive the healthy birth of one. What a peculiar development. To love someone for years, make a baby in love and what should have stitched you closer seemingly ripped you apart. Forgive me, it's not the baby, it's a number of things, things from me and him but if a honest conversation will ever be had about everything without blame or ridicule, that remains to be seen. But oh to be loved after the transformation of a body you knew your whole life that morphed in an instant, must be nice. To be forgiven, even in your missteps, must be nice. To be respected, to be taken care of without question...must be nice.
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