a poem of pain

I look at pictures of myself. I see my smile, I almost fool myself at times. My son makes me a mother. oh how I love him. He asks for something that I am trying desperately to give him. He does not know that though. so I smile gently as I tell him that God will send him one soon. I lie though. As his father and I know the painful truths. The 'almosts' and the 'losts' and the 'possibilities of never'. how he longs for a brother. But his big sister , that he will never know , smiles down at him from heaven . Many positives have turned to bloody negatives. There is a harshness of this pain in my heart and soul and body, I never expected to be a victim of. Two years now, of an empty womb. like they know the possibilities of an end to soon. After a while they just stop coming at all. That hurts almost as bad. I hold babies and I smile, and in the night I cry. A quiet suffering and painful longing. I try not to get my hopes up. But some months it may be late to come , but then the cycle starts and I know that again I have failed. Reassuring persons try hard to comfort. explaining with an ease that my son so full of health is here with me. They leave me feeling foolish like I am full of greed. I do not ignore the apparent happiness that's in front of me. He makes us happy. He makes us a family. He turned us two into three, I just wish to add another. My heart aches for my breasts to be filled with milk. to give nourishment. I crave to give life. The pain that is most difficult is that I know I do not suffer alone. How I wish those affected by the tragedies my body brings would not suffer with me. I wish to sooth and ease. But how can I fix those who are broken when I myself have been broken for so long. My words grow tedious, fully true , however generic. Reassurance bouncing back and forth. still their names swirl around my mind. ones lost, ones not yet able to conceive. they will forever haunt me in my days and my nights dreams . I need the strength that I pretend to have. How I plead for this hurt to grow tired of its battles with me and flee. for the pain to go and leave me whole again. Lord give me strength. fill my womb again, with life and not pain.And fill the cracks left behind by scars so deep within.