There is a space right in the center of a woman’s breast,
stretching between her waiting arms,

that craves a baby. It aches to be filled with the
soft bounce of new flesh, the warmth of new life.

It was here that I felt the wishbone break and
suddenly Thanksgiving was over. Celebration was

tossed aside as I snapped apart and became empty.
The hollow of the marrow leaked a plague stain –

bright red between my thighs. The world was silent
noise, all scurrying and rushed, while whispers passed

and the nurse stepped back as I shattered on her table.
She said, “There is no heartbeat.” and I thought instantly

of a washing machine – the steady thwump, thwump, thwump,
and knew that someone had turned it off.

Someone had snapped the wishbone and I was all
hollow marrow and no heartbeat.

© Laura A. Lord, 2016

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14 responses to “Wishbone”

  1. As a woman who had a long jagged road of infertility before I was blessed with the second life I’m creating within me right this moment, this literately brought me to me knees. You write like you are knitting strings from the hearts of readers. Truly inspirational.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m so happy to hear that your journey is moving towards a happier future! Loss is one of the few things that I think every person can relate with, unfortunately.


    • I think miscarriage effects men just as greatly. It is still loss. My husband I think suffered in a different way through this. For him, it was much harder to not be able to “fix it” for me.


  2. My wife and I endured 7 miscarriages and your post has resonated deeply – thank you. I didn’t experience what my wife Kate felt – but if it was only half as much as what I felt, it is truly devastating (I know it was more likely twice as much!). Luckily, we were blessed with one wonderful and beautiful loving daughter (who had her first school disco tonight). The scars and pain remain – but in our daughter we have found so much love and excitement. Thank you also for sharing your observation of your husband – I felt so useless and unable to fix / solve (men like women also feel that maybe it was something they did, something they didn’t do – that it was their fault). I wrote a poem on my blog about miscarriage from a male point of view – the miscarriage of duty (it certainly wasn’t as good as yours).

    Liked by 1 person

  3. A beautiful write and felt shivers through the bone. It has been a while this story was told.
    Stuck in a wrapped up furry blanket and a silly crow that came to visit. You come from far Lady Laura. And will smile tear knowing little Tommy is growing up under great loving care of a strong mummy.

    The days of feeling broken
    I remember I cried
    when I read your story,
    The pain never leaves us.
    I remember I cried
    when I felt hopeless
    unable to help in any way.
    When it had been my turn
    that one day.
    Time coming to halt
    And All I remember was…
    If only…

    And when my hearts wants to write I write.
    Big hugs and kisses
    The Silly Crow

    Liked by 1 person

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